One week later

It’s been a week since we lost Abby. It seems much longer, though. Time has slowed down since we first learned that she was going to be leaving us. After losing Meg the days got longer. Now they’ve slowed to a crawl. The house is quiet, the days unpunctuated by trips outside, feedings, barky interruptions.

We’re working through all of this, staying busy, and we’ve been able to talk and laugh about our lives together. Fortunately we’re not riddled with guilt, wondering if we did the right thing, and we had some time to prepare as her health slipped away.

But the days aren’t yet normal. It’s hard to tell when they begin, because the old routine of getting up early, getting everyone emptied and then fed, then emptied again — the way every day had started for many, many years — is now gone.

Two nights ago she showed up in a dream. She was once again The Happiest Dog Ever, just wanting to say “hey.” When I woke up I felt as if something had worked itself out, and somehow knew that we were all going to be okay.

In the beginning…

Abby’s first haircut, days after springing her from the shelter.

Many thanks to all of you visiting from cuteoverload.com. It’s been less than 24 hours since saying goodbye to the Abster; your kindness has made this day a little easier.

To all our furbuddies, a toast.
Hug ‘em tonight, or spend some time thinking about the ones waiting on the other side.

Letting go

Abby

aka Little Bunny, Bear, Muppet, Squirmelina, Bugdog

December 1991 - February 16, 2006

Lulled to sleep by the sound of grenades exploding

Abby continues her slow decline, but still finds pleasure in being in the room when Ghost Recon 2 is on the Xbox. When the explosions start, she’ll walk in slowly and either settle in front of the tv or on the sofa next to us, snuggled into a sweatshirt that she’s now taken as hers. Soon the sounds of slow, relaxed breathing provide a soothing background to the grenades and gunfire.

Not yet giving up

Abby had trouble waking up this morning. I found her sleeping next to her bed, shivering. She finally came to with a start, unsteadily followed me to the front door, and stood out in the yard a while before doing what she needed to do.

I carried her back in. She’s lost more weight, her rib cage is clearly visible, and she no longer has the strength to jump on the sofa.

She turned down all food this morning, even plain chicken.

By 10am I’d decided tomorrow might be the day. I didn’t want to take her to the emergency vet because they’re not familiar with either of us, and the strangeness might frighten her, so I’d hoped she’d last the day until we could go into the only vet she’d ever known.

She’s been sleeping most of the day, occasionally with hard shivers. If she’d slipped into lethargy or had stopped taking in water, we’d have taken it as a sign that she was ready to go.

But she’s still drinking water, and when she’s not sleeping is attentive and focused.

So we started feeding her with a syringe tonight. She didn’t like it, but she didn’t spit it out. We’re still waiting to see if the food stays down, but we managed to get a good bit of food into her.

There’s no way to know what tomorrow could bring, but for now we’re not feeling helpless.

Bad news

Abby’s bloodwork came back. Her BUN levels — which measure a benchmark toxin in the blood — were over 130. We don’t know how much over, though, because the machine only goes up to this level.

The vet said she has less than a month. Coming back from this level of kidney failure, especially given her age, is unlikely.

So we’re now keeping her comfortable, feeding 4:1 rice and chicken since she won’t eat anything else. She’s slowly losing weight, and seems to be gradually detaching herself from the world.

I can’t yet bring myself to write more about her. She came into my life as a puppy, almost fifteen years ago. We’ve been through a lot of changes together, and she was the one constant in my life, as I was in hers.

I knew this time would come. Just not now. Not yet.

Life as a list

There’s little coherence to my life right now. Everything is just bits and pieces. Part of it is the nature of my job, and with all the mini-crises going on, it’s hard to settle into anything for very long.

Cooking more than usual, and now own a food chopper. Only the best for Abby.

Listening to Parliament’s Mothership Connection and Deee-Lite. I have no explanation for this.

Playing Perfect Dark Zero. Still. The Phantoms — grrr.

Compelled to buy a pink polo shirt today. Maybe it’ll work with camo.

Two of my favorite things — chocolate and shortbread — are now in one candy bar:
Cadbury Dairy Milk with Shortbread. Picked one up at the grocery today, but haven’t started it yet. This is the kind of thing I’ll want to concentrate on. Cadbury. Shortbread. omg.

Waiting for Days of Heaven and Grave of the Fireflies DVDs. My mood has lifted a bit since placing that order.

Hexic for Palm. Someday…

Crisis not exactly passed, after all

Since Abby’s episode of congestive heart failure, we’ve been working to find a balance with medications to help her heart, but not damage her kidneys. Right now her kidneys aren’t functioning as well as they should, so the toxins in her blood are elevated. She seems to be feeling just okay, which is a step down from her usual energetic gregariousness. She had stopped eating on Monday, but on Thursday ate some chicken and rice, and has gained back a little of the weight she lost. We’ve discontinued one of the heart medications — enalapril — to keep from damaging her kidneys any further, but that means her heart has to work a little harder.

These tradeoffs are so hard to call. She’s eating again, but I don’t know if the protein will hit her kidneys too hard. Her heart’s enlarged and her murmur has gotten worse, but the medication was burning up her kidneys. The other medications help keep her lungs dry, but they’re upsetting what had been the fairly healthy chemical balance of a dog who was aging normally.

She’s going back in on Tuesday for another round of bloodwork to make sure her toxin levels haven’t increased.

Instead of working…

Here’s the Polish Poster Gallery, a collection of posters for American movies. Compare these to the demographically-correct American versions.

When life’s a little too overwhelming: Cute Overload.

A new puzzle every day at Jigzone.