Saying Goodbye to Scamp

Final moments with my dog.

Exactly four weeks ago today, I sat in a room at the veterinarian’s office while she gently told me that my dog did not have long to live. This afternoon, the same (pregnant) vet got down on the floor beside me and administered the drug that would send my ten year old Scamp to Heaven.

As I sit here now, with swollen eyes and throbbing head, it seems impossible. Scamp was always healthy, with boundless energy and a mischievous spirit. Looking back, there were some subtle signs. Maybe a year or so ago, he began suffering from occasional nausea. I wasn’t really concerned; after all he was constantly foraging for things he shouldn’t be eating – cat poop from the litter box, tidbits he found while rooting around the yard, delicacies from the trash can… Not to mention that he inhaled his food, and was on constant alert for morsels accidentally dropped by the humans. Before we could stoop down to pick up whatever fell on the floor, this dog would have darted across the room and consumed it.

One day I noticed that his gum seemed swollen. Assuming it was an abscessed tooth, I made an appointment for him. I figured that after some antibiotics and minor surgery to remove the tooth, all would be fine.

On our first visit to the clinic, she felt his jaw and her face changed. She commented that it almost felt like there was a growth under his gum rather than infection. She added that if it did happen to be oral cancer, the outlook would not be good. Upon hearing these words, I blew them off. Of course my dog did not have cancer. He was going to be as good as new. When they looked inside his gum, they would only find stuff that could be easily fixed.

They went ahead and drew blood for pre-surgery testing, which dealt another harsh blow. His BUN and creatinine levels were very high, revealing that his kidneys were not functioning well. We went ahead and scheduled the surgery, with the understanding that I would bring him in 24 hours ahead of time so that they could try to bring his numbers down with IV fluids.

The day the surgery was scheduled, I waited anxiously to hear the results. When the call finally came, the veterinarian suggested that I come in and discuss matters face to face. They had actually not performed the operation. There was no improvement in Scamps’s kidney function, and the X-rays they took did nothing to brighten his prognosis. I was able to see the films for myself, and compare the good side and the bad side. The good side looked like you would expect a dog’s jaw to look – teeth lined up evenly and smooth, porous bone. The other side was another story. Instead of being an even shade of color, this bone looked as though someone had spilled dark ink inside it. Tooth roots had been shoved out of the way to make room for the black hole that was growing. Even I had to admit that this was not good. She stated that her best guess was that this was a very aggressive form of cancer. She added that they could proceed with the surgery and verify what it was; there was a slight chance that it could merely be a serious infection that could possibly be stopped. However, his kidney function did not make him a good candidate to receive anesthesia. I chose to bring him home rather than take the chance that the necessary drugs could kill him. I was warned that in about three weeks, his kidneys would probably stop working altogether.

We went home armed with antibiotics, anti-nausea medication, bags of Lactated Ringer’s, IV tubing, and special dog food. I had retired from the workforce (earlier than planned) only a month before, and I praised God for that. He obviously knew that I would need/want time to devote to my dog and care for him as best I could. I was somewhat distressed by the big dent these expenses had made to my oh-so-carefully put together nest egg. Then I realized that if not for retirement, I would not have saved that money. Another praise.

Things went well for the first couple of weeks. I researched diets for canines with kidney failure and cancer, and began preparing fresh meals for Scamp and Neo, my 15 year old dog. Suddenly, Scamp rebelled against the subcutaneous fluid drips he was getting twice a day. Unable to force the issue on my own, I figured that when Roger got home, he could help me. When the weekend came, however, Scamp seemed fine. He was drinking lots of water on his own without getting sick, so we decided to forego the drips for the time being. Our reasoning was that if he did not have long to live, we wouldn’t subject him to something that he hated so much, especially since his overall health didn’t seem to be affected either way.

Sadly though, the lump in his jaw was steadily growing. He drooled almost constantly, and when he ate, a lot of food would end up on the floor. I had no doubt that the doc’s cancer diagnosis was right on. A few times it would bleed, enough to make me concerned for his welfare. He also began to balk about drinking. I knew I needed to make that phone call, but I couldn’t bring myself to do so. For the most part, this dog still loved life. He dug into his meals with gusto, chased cats, and basked in the attention he was getting. I had deep conversations with him, and we discussed his health, our future and the options we had. I’m convinced that he understood when I explained that we needed to send him back to Jesus soon, before he got to the point to where he did not want to live. I remember one of our walks around the yard… he walked and explored much longer than usual, seeming to contemplate that it might be the last time he ever saw those things. I prayed, asking God for guidance. I wanted my dog to have all the time he could, yet I knew that it would only get worse, and I did not want him to reach the point of suffering. This morning, after repeating my prayer, Scamp yawned. I was able to get a good look inside his mouth. Not only was the hideous tumor growing out the side of his mouth, it was also growing inward. About a fourth of his throat was blocked by the mass. Realizing that if I did nothing he could slowly suffocate, I was forced to act. I got the appointment for as late in the day as I could, so that we might enjoy our last afternoon. We cuddled on the floor, and then we went on an “adventure”. I always walked Scamp and Neo together. Due to Neo’s infirmities, our walks were usually limited to the yard, but occasionally we would walk alongside the road and go to the end of our block. Both boys always found this immensely exciting, as they did this afternoon.

After his last bath.

The drainage from his mouth made Scamp’s fur a constant stiff mess, so I washed and brushed him one last time, burying my face in his sweet softness. He was so excited when he realized we were going in the car. Our first stop was McDonald’s, where he got a cheeseburger, and then we went to the dog park so he could eat it. While there, we met an angel. A sweet young girl was there with two dogs, and she chatted with us. Seeing Scamp’s mouth, she asked if we had just come from the vet. When I told her what was going on, she showed heartwarming compassion. As Scamp finished his cheeseburger, she went to her car and came back with a packet of moist dog food. She said she used the pieces of food for treats, and offered the little bag to Scamp. After watching him eat a few pieces, she said she would leave us to our time alone and packed up her dogs and left. My heart was truly warmed by her kindness.

Yummy cheeseburger!

 I was showered with kindness at the vet’s office as well. Right after I made the appointment, I had realized that I had no pictures of Scamp and me together. I had been attempting to take selfies all day, but had been unsuccessful. I asked the tech if she would mind taking one of us. She actually took ten separate shots, and then had me look through them to make sure I had what I wanted. The procedure was explained to us, and we were left alone for a few minutes. No one made me feel rushed. After it was over, when his lifeless body lay in my arms, the veterinarian sat with me for a few moments, stroking his fur before leaving me alone to say my final goodbyes.

As I have done with previous dogs, I asked for a private cremation and to have his cremains returned to me.

Besides the grief of losing another one of my furry family members, I worry about how this loss will affect Neo. Although these two have had strife over the Alpha Dog title in the past, Neo does not like that his pack is gone now. While Scamp was in the hospital, Neo did not do well. He was listless most of the time, and had to be coaxed to eat and drink. When Scamp came home, the two dogs lay back to back the rest of the evening. Today when I came home, I found Neo lying with his head on the cushion that Scamp had been sleeping on. I had been talking to him as well, explaining why Scamp would not be coming home with me.

Savoring his burger.

I am trusting God… I know that He will be taking Neo one day. I have been blessed to have him this long. I have also been so blessed by my family and friends through all this. Roger has been sharing my pain – he loves all the dogs he acquired when he married me. He is on the road right now, but is still a comfort to me, even though his own soul is weeping. My children have sent their love, and the compassion of my facebook friends is sustaining me and soothing my heart. I am so grateful to everyone.

Life goes on. I hold fast to the hope that I will see this beloved animal again in Heaven.