Sunday, November 29, 2009
Callie Anne: Nov., 2002 - Nov., 2009
Her brain tumor and cyst were killing her. Her quality of life became unacceptable, little by little. I could not justify making her go through brain surgery or radiation, spending many of her final days with medical procedures, risking becoming worse off instead of temporarily better. She was already uncomfortable. She'd been through enough. In her final days she became more and more limited. She could not get in and out of the car, up and down the stairs, she could not clean herself or keep her balance. She could not run around and play, or even drink easily. She was dizzy a lot and needed to lay still. She had six medications a day to try and keep her going and reasonably comfortable. She was hungry, thirsty and irritable from her meds. She had some pain and some dizziness. She still loved being with me. She remained mentally alert, eager for treats, and longing for attention. Given everything she had going on, she even remained in a good mood.
The kindest thing I could do for her was to chose to let her go, before things got worse, which was inevitable. I wanted her to go to sleep at home, after a good meal, in the arms of her parents, and not not in the middle of a seizure, on an operating table, or after struggling through more IVs and medical procedures.
The most the doctors could have done was postpone things a bit. The tumor itself was inoperable. The end was grim - one day she'd lose balance and be spinning and dizzy and unable to walk and panic stricken. We may have been able to buy her more time, maybe even a couple of years, but the tumor would have gotten her in the end, and in the interim she would have to go through a lot of medical procedures and endure a lot of hardship and there would be a lot of risk - she could end up worse off, not better. I would rather the end be peaceful. I could have hung on longer, but it would have been for me, not for her. She won't know the difference. She has been uncomfortable, and coping and adapting to more losses every day, and now that is over.
Although I will mourn her loss forever, I will also always be happy and grateful we shared one another's lives. She was the smartest dog I ever met. I could not have asked for more.