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Crossed Rainbow BridgeI used to tell people that I owned 2 dogs, Baron and Bliss. Bliss adopted Beau so he was her dog and Yorkie, my grandparents’ dog, was just staying with me until he was ready to be with them again. Last night Yorkie decided it was time. I certainly wasn’t ready. I know we are never truly ready, but I was a little more than caught off guard and unprepared by this sudden unexpected departure.
About two months ago Yorkie started coughing. Seeming as he was previously diagnosed with an enlarged heart, a heat murmur and high blood pressure I assumed the worst. I mean Yorkie has been at death’s door for years. His collapsing trachea, his eye removal and all his heart issues had me praying for more time with him whenever he came down with a new ailment, which seemed rather often and disconcerting. Hs mortality was never far from my mind, until last month.
But going back to two months ago when the coughing started, we went to the vet and of course weren’t able to discern if this was a respiratory problem or a heart problem so we started on cough suppressants and antibiotics. After fiddling around for a few weeks and having the cough worsen we opted for x-rays. I guess I might mention at about this time my vet of 10 years sold her practice and moved away. I am a tad picky about my vet and even when I moved 4 hours away I still brought my kids across the pass to this trusted clinic that was now being run by complete strangers. A few more vet visits and no improvement I bit the bullet and found a new vet who came highly recommended and whom I had previously met. We got straight down to business, she ran some tests and we decided to have an echocardiogram preformed on Yorkie to see exactly what was going on with his heart.
This brings us up to the last 4 weeks. Just before Yorkie’s appointment I took him to the groomer and got him all cleaned up and beautiful. He proceeded to break out in an itchy rash which I assumed was possibly from the groomer’s products or the new down comforter I had gotten. At the time of his eco my new vet went ahead and prescribed an antihistamine and some antibiotics to clear up his little rash.
Then I got the news. The cardiologist had rated Yorkie’s heart as NORMAL. It was explained to me that there are several degrees in the ranking of a heart. Normal being the best and trivial being the next in line, trivial meaning just what it sounds like. Yorkie’s heart was NOT even considered borderline trivial. His heart was not enlarged (it was considered quite typical for his breed and small stature), there was no heart murmur and no sign of heart disease was found. How amazing is that? He had been at deaths door for years and now Yorkie had a whole new lease on life. He was going to live forever. To say I was little overly ecstatic is putting it mildly. Skinny healthy Mr. Yorkie who loved to go to the dog park and although didn’t care much to be held was always right by my side and desperate to go with me where ever I went. My relief at this news was tremendous and I walked much lighter knowing that I no longer needed to be so worried every time Yorkie wasn’t acting himself.
A week passed by and the little man’s rash was not getting better. I called the vet and she prescribed a steroid over the telephone. Another week passed and I was abhorred as Yorkie’s rash didn’t improve but worsened to the point that his entire body, nose, inside his ears, EVERYTHING was scabby, crusty, and painfully itchy. I made an appointment and took him into the vet again. The vet was noticeably concerned as well. No more messing around it was time to get serious. Skin scrapings, biopsies, hair testing, cultures, and all sorts of tests were prescribed and preformed. I would have to wait for the results. Yorkie was put on yet another round of antibiotics. His coughing had subsided weeks ago, how odd that he was having an entirely new issue just as we find that his heart is so healthy. If we can just get him through this so we can get on to living already. I am still so overjoyed that he will be around for years to come.
My new vet went on vacation/continuing education. Five days went by and I still had heard nothing from all the tests. Yorkie is lethargic, not eating, hasn’t been himself for weeks but I assume it is because he is the walking itch. How uncomfortable he must be, why haven’t they given me anything to just sooth his pain? I call in to the clinic and am told with the recent bad weather the labs are backed up. I am frustrated and that old heavy burden of worry gets the best of me. Finally day six arrives and I have had it. I call into the clinic and make an appointment with a vet I have never seen before, I wanted to wait until tomorrow and at least see the one I had previously met, the one who had been briefed by my new vet before her vacation, but my old fears were back and I just wanted assurances so in we went.
Dr “Stranger” spoke in very technical terms. We were there for some time as I asked questions over and over tying to understand. It seems the tests results all came back that day and Yorkie’s own body was causing this rash, I don’t even remember the name of it. It was indicative of a deeper issue. Something was wrong with him, but no one new what. The “cancer” word was tossed into the mix and a laundry list of tests was recommended. I just sat there a little stunned. It was just too much to comprehend all at once. I needed some time, I needed to think about this, when was my vet going to be back, can’t we just start the treatment and maybe do one test at a time instead of everything all at once?
There was a treatment for this ailment, it was simply a medication, but this vet that I didn’t know at all wanted to hospitalize Yorkie overnight because he was a little dehydrated they wanted to give him some IV fluids and see how he was in the morning. NO. I begged her to let me take him home. I didn’t want to leave without him, I was sure that if they just let me take him home, I could get him to eat and drink. Yorkie was injected with fluids (subcutaneously) and I was given some special canned food and the pills. Well not really. The receptionist forgot to put the pills, his medication, in to the bag, so I paid for them but didn’t have them and had no idea until I got home.
Yorkie seemed to be feeling better. I set him on the ground when we got home and he went directly to the water dish and took a long drink. I was happy again. We went into the house and I quickly opened the can of special food and gave it to him. He gulped it right down. He almost seemed to inhale it, this was a good sign. Relief was close I could feel it. I made Yorkie a little bed in my bedroom so I could keep track of his water intake and fed the other dogs. After feeding time I sat down on the sofa hit the mute on the television to check my phone messages. I heard Yorkie coughing. Not again! He was sitting up instead of lying down, he looked very uncomfortable. He had thrown up a little bit of water and wet food. Poor baby, I grabbed a towel and picked him up. We sat on the couch and I held him on an incline and he seemed to sleep. Then I heard the most awful sound coming from him. Gurgling is the only was I can describe it. As soon as I shifted positions it stopped but I grabbed the phone and called the vet. “Bring him in” is all they said and just like that everything went dark and that awful heaviness returned as if it had been there all along just waiting and mocking me for even thinking it had gone.
I can’t believe I had to stop for gas (this vet isn’t the closest), the pump was broken, I went to another. We drove and I started begging God to help him. He was still breathing. I was sure it sounded normal, but I new something was wrong.
It was the longest drive ever. I begged him to be okay I wanted him to stay. But I told him that if he wanted to go, he could but I couldn’t bare it if he went without me being there. I knew the vet was closing and I knew they would want to keep him overnight, I knew that if I left him there alone, he would die alone without me. I made it very clear that I wanted him to live. There was so much fun we could have. It wasn’t his time, he was too young and his heart was fine, there was no reason for him to go. But it seemed he has truly been suffering these last 4 weeks with this nasty rash and I didn’t want him to suffer anymore. Couldn’t we get him better so he could stay with me and we could go to the park, play with his squeak, do all the things I thought we’d do now that I knew his heart was good?
The last 10 minutes of our drive I stopped praying and just spoke directly to Yorkie. My hand was still on him and I could feel that he was breathing, but I knew what was coming. I didn’t want to know, but I knew. “Please don’t die without me. I want you to get better but if you have to go I need to be there, please let me be there. Don’t go when I am not there. You have to wait for me. Do not die with out me.”
It was just awful. Just turn right and then left and then right into a parking space. I needed both hands. It was but a moment. I pulled in and looked down and he was gone. Just like that. In the parking lot of the animal hospital, Yorkie left me. It was awful, just horribly awful. They worked on him, but I knew he was gone. They have no idea what the cause of death was. Did he choke on that last bite of food? Should I have left him at the hospital earlier where they could have been watching him? If I hadn’t stopped for gas would we have made it in time? I am plagued with guilt. Did he hear me when I used to say things like I have too many dogs or when I jokingly chide him in front of people about all the money I spend on him or was I too harsh when he had accidents? Oh I used to get so angry when it was time to eat he would just go insane and bark and spin and bark as I prepared the food (which can take some time when you have a house full of dogs) and I would yell at him. Oh what I would give to have that experience just one more time. My heart is breaking but the world keeps spinning. I learned long ago that life isn’t fair. It just seems cruel to put a little innocent dog through so much suffering just to take him away in the end.
I know Yorkie isn’t suffering any more. I know he was never my dog. I know that he gets to be with Grandma for her birthday. I know that it is my own selfishness that makes me so sad. I miss my little Yorkie Porky Pie. There is/was a lot of emotional stuff tied into my relationship with this 6 pound little man. He is family and he was my link to Grandpa and Grandma and they are of course linked to my mother who was an exceptional dog lover herself I am told. We are all linked. My world was changed last night forever. But I will never regret the precious little time I was blessed with having Yorkie in my life. He is sorely missed.