None of us had any inkling how this day would end. We did the usual things. I shopped and had lunch with the kids. The Mr donated blood and checked on the yard project he's working on for a neighbor down the alley. I slept through the hottest part of the day, and woke with a jolt when he came running in and said something was seriously wrong with Murray.
Murray had gotten stuck in the corner where the flagstone patio was half-built, where he has gotten himself stuck before. From a distance he looked like he was just tipped over sleeping as he so often does in his wheels, but when the Mr got closer he realized he was having a seizure. He pulled him to the center of the yard and removed him from wheels. He thought it was heat-related, and tried to cool him down. He was rigid and having tachycardia, and his eyes were dilated. After a few minutes of holding him in the yard, Mr S-P carried him into the kitchen, and we set him on his bed, hoping for improvement. More seizures followed, and we decided it was time to go to the emergency vet. We had very little hope for a recovery at that point.
The vet gave him medication to stop the seizures and put him on oxygen, but he never really regained lucidity from the time the seizures started, unknown hours earlier. After consultation, we decided that there was a probability of brain damage, and the kindest thing was to let him go peacefully. The vet did say she did not think it was heatstroke, based on his body temperature, but we couldn't really pin down what the primary cause was. A reaction to his increased medications? The effects of recurrent UTIs on a senior dog? A miscreant throwing something poisonous over the alley fence? We will never know.
We all said our farewells and are at peace with the decision. Tomorrow Mr S-P will take him up the mountain for a final time and bury him near the cabin. It was where he was his happiest, which is where good dogs should be.
No comments:
Post a Comment