I feel like I've been absent from my blog, and, the reality is I have. I have been thinking about writing a blog post for a little while but have lacked motivation. What should I write about? All the self-judgements come flooding through even thinking about writing a blog post, the list is endless.
Today there is no self--judgement, just a place to come and say to myself and anyone who is reading this, is that a week today on the May Day Bank Holiday, I had my beloved cocker spaniel Conny put to sleep. I took her to the vets on Monday29th April as she had been off her food a little and I felt she needed to be checked over. The vet took a blood sample off her and told me to come back on Wednesday 1st May.
Wednesday morning arrived, Conny and I went back to the Vet, to be told that her blood sample was showing some high levels of phosphorus indicating issues with her kidneys. The Vet decided to keep her in for a renal flush, Treatment of kidney failure in dogs occurs in two phases. The first phase
is to "restart" the kidneys. Large quantities of intravenous fluids are
given to "flush out" the kidneys. This flushing process, called diuresis,
helps to stimulate the kidney cells to function again. If enough functional
kidney cells remain, they may be able to adequately meet the body's needs
for waste removal. Fluid therapy includes replacement of various
electrolytes, especially potassium.
I went back to the Vets later in the afternoon, I saw a different Vet who told me Conny was a very poorly dog. They also scanned Conny whilst she was in, one of her kidneys was very small with signs of deterioration and her liver wasn't looking healthy.
The prognosis wasn't good.
We were told to keep her on a low protein diet and bring her back on Friday for a review.
We took her back on Friday, they took another blood sample to check her blood levels but couldn't say how long she had left, we were given the option to have her put to sleep there and then. We were both stunned and said we weren't ready for that, we would take her home, see how she goes.
We made her as comfortable as we could, we sat with her when she wanted company and left her to sleep on the sofa when she wanted some peace. My daughter Jenna came home from University to visit and say her goodbyes to Conny, Jenna was 8years old when I got Conny.
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| Jenna & Conny |
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On the Saturday we took Conny to a place she loved to go swimming (Fairhaven Lake), we drove her up there in the car and she found enough strength to walk into the park and into the water. She had a potter around on the grass and then came home. Over the week-end people who knew and loved Conny came to visit and say goodbye to her. We were so touched by this. On the Bank Holiday Monday Conny had stopped eating. She was on the sofa (her favourite place) and I told her it was okay for her to go, that she didn't have to hang on anymore. I asked her to give me a sign that she was ready. She touched my face with hers and I knew but didnt' want to believe it. I asked the Universe to send me a sign to confirm what Conny had told me. A pigeon flew into the garden and dropped a feather, Conny loved to chase pigeons out of the garden. I picked the feather up and took it to Conny, she sniffed it and I placed it on her cushion for her, she rested her chin on it and she looked peaceful. Later in the afternoon the Vet arrived and put her to sleep at home.
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| Conny resting with her feather |
It's been a very odd week, trying to adjust to life without her. We have another cocker spaniel (Jasper) who is 3 years old in August, he is missing her too. The house
feels is, very quiet without her, she was definitely the noisy one! She was full of character. I could set my clock by her, wherever I was in the house between 5pm and 5:30pm, she would come and find me to let me know it was time for her tea.
I have been very lucky to have had such a wonderful dog, a dogs love is unconditional and I loved her unconditionally in return.
GOD is Dog spelt backwards
I read a post which Elizabeth Gilbert author of Eat, Pray, Love put on her facebook page, she wrote a tribute to her cat Clifford which she had to have put to sleep this week-end. She writes:
While
it was clearly Clifford's time to go (as I joked in tears to a friend,
"What kind of unfair God would pluck a geriatric, diabetic, toothless
animal with arthritic legs and increasing incontinence right from the
prime of his life?") it is still heartbreaking. We love our furry-headed
friends in a way that is different, more inexplicable, and more tender
than other kinds of love, and when they go, it makes us ache to our
core.
But here is what I keep thinking. I met a monk once in
India who told me that one of the karmic roles of our beloved pets
("part of their service," he said) is to come into our lives as
teachers. They are sent here not only to teach us how to love, but also
to teach us how to die — because they do it so well, and so
uncomplainingly. We need these lessons, you see, because we are so
famously bad at death, we humans. We are so afraid of it, so angry at
it, so resistant to it. But our furry-heads, they see death differently.
And as they slip away from us, they try to show us, "Watch me do this:
It's really not that difficult. You just have to let go..."
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