LadyCarrie

Dear Marty, Thank you so much for the article. I said earlier something akin to I'm still suffering from "third-degree burns" due to vet abuse. This is true; however, this is also true. Our vet who will be away until July 27, and cannot treat Callie now, could have written "Ivan Died Last Night." He loves his patients passionately, and treats his clients in a way that makes us all feel special. One Christmas Eve, we awoke to see Ashely walking with her hind leg dragging. We knew she must have a disc injury, but we didn't know how bad it would be. This vet, who could easily have assigned another vet to work on Christmas Eve since he owned the hospital, was there treating, euthanizing, and crying. We saw him go outside to a vehicle to euthanize a huge dog as the family stood around crying. He managed to hold his own tears back until he and we went into an exam room. He said that he'd had to do that twice already, and it wasn't even noon. We've known this man for nearly three decades, and felt God put him there for us that day, for Ashely was seriously injured. We hadn't expected to have him treat Ashely on Christmas Eve, so were delighted that he could see her. He helped us with Ashely, and she recovered well. Jerry and I took turns holding her for six weeks. The only time she was on her feet was to use her potty box. All three Doxies are potty box trained. Jerry made their boxes so they stand on a grid over Wee Wee pads in a cut-short plastic sweater box, so never get their feet dirty. Over the years, we've hugged and cried together over our vet's pets and ours. He has a cemetery for his pets in the yard near his house. He said that he hurts so badly when his are sick, and he hates it when he has to leave them at his hospital to be boarded. He came home early last year from a trip back East to visit his daughter who was in medical school, because his dog was caged in his own hospital. I remember when this daughter was a wee girl. She was home-schooled, and now she recently graduated from medical school. She's to be a pediatrician. She got her first training working with her father. The reason our vet is away until July 27 is that he and his family are in Hawaii celebrating his daughter's graduation. I knew she was graduating this year, but yesterday, I could think only of Callie. It crossed my mind that this is the time he visits his daughter, but I was too rattled to put it together. We were delighted that the vet we saw yesterday is one we already know and like really well. We learned that she recently bought the practice, but our vet is still going to be working with her. We're happy all the way round about this situation. He will still "be there" for us with Callie, when it's her time to leave us ~ just like always. Hopefully, he will still be there when we lose our last baby, Beauregard, our little red smooth Doxie. Beauregard turned fifteen in May. He is deaf, and has cataracts that have dimmed his vision greatly. He has a cyst on his eye that sticks up like a tube, and which has to be lanced periodically. He has only five teeth left, all in the back. He still loves to play ball and laser light, and appears to be our last baby to leave us. Thank you for listening to me prattle on about people you don't even know as I trip back through my memories of my babies. Now, the tears can come. Blessings and hugs, Carrie

I thank each of you who have written to me here. I love all of you for your support. These days are difficult for us, and for you. We will hold onto each other, as we lift each other up. May God hold each of you tenderly. He is our hope, and our salvation. Blessings, Carrie

Dear Carrie, I send you hugs also. I'm sorry you've lost your grandfather, but glad the wake helped your feelings (I'm Scottish and Irish, so I know about wakes). I hurt for you regarding your little Copperpot, because I understand your not being able to reach peace yet. When we feel something could have been done better, a death is so much more difficult to become at peace about. I know things needed to be done better regarding Ashely (our Doxie who died last Oct 10), but I choose to forgive the egotistical, hot-tempered vet who caused my baby to die. Forgiving him doesn't mean I have to like or respect him. Nor does it mean that I can't tell the truth on him, which I do at every opportunity. I don't tell the truth on him in order to harm him, but to protect others who are as ignorant about kidney disease and anesthesia as I once was. The first vet to tell me that the anesthesia should never have been given was the one who euthanized her. She is a long-time friend. Later, other vets confirmed what she said. Thank you for graciously allowing me to use your thread. I was so rattled yesterday that I didn't even think about it. In truth, I'm still rattled today, so hope I'm writing all right. Our posts may look really confusing since we both are named Carrie. I started a new thread about Callie's trip to the vet yesterday, but will still come back and visit you here. See you here ~ and there. When I copied and pasted to the forum, the spacing went a bit wacky. Blessings and warm hugs, Carrie, too

Dear Forum Friends, The vet looked into Callie's mouth, and said immediately “You need to be thinking of her quality of life.” She went on to say that she's in end-stage kidney disease and that her teeth and mouth are too bad for surgery to be an option (kidney disease causes awful things to happen to the mouth: decayed teeth; ulcers/abscesses; and sore, swollen, and bleeding gums). She was ready to euthanize her, but we just couldn't do it yesterday. We made the right decision for yesterday. Soon (no matter when, it will feel too soon) we will have to make another decision ~ one we will hate, but hopefully, we will know we chose the right time. Unfortunately, dogs with KD don’t just lie down and die peacefully; instead, they often die having terrible and terrifying seizures that can happen when no vet is available. Our regular vet told me that he was sure I would not allow that end to happen to Ashely. Prayerfully, I won’t allow it to happen to Callie either. The doctor said that she will come to our home to euthanize her when we are ready. With my heart screaming "NO!," my mind was logical enough to mutter, "Thank you." I reel at times with remorse regarding Ashely; not because she was euthanized, but due to the reason it had to be done early. I still have “third-degree burns” due to vet abuse. Euthanasia is often needed as an act of mercy, but it is permanent. I feel like I can't do this ever again, yet it appears I/we must. I know many of you are feeling what I feel, and so you know. We speak heart-to-heart here. Prior to Callie’s exam, Amberly and I agreed that we wanted to try treatment by bolus at home, if nothing else could be done for her. Water is a wonder "drug," and it saves lives ~ human and animal, even when there appears to be no hope. We knew we couldn't continue giving Callie amoxicillin or Metacam, because there's nothing in her tummy. We needed another method of administering an antibiotic. The vet agreed that the bolus treatments and a long-lasting, powerful, injectable antibiotic called Convenia could be tried for a week. The vet said that she will put her on this regime, along with Buprenex for pain (strong) for a week. We will know soon whether it will work. If she's still sick, in pain, or can't eat normally after a few days, we will know we tried everything we can do. This plan just might buy her a bit more "quality" (somewhat quality) time. All of us "old" ones have pain of some kind at some level some of the time. Her pain level will be kept low. I promise ~ myself and you. The bolus at the vet's office made Callie comfortable, and she rested well last night. She was given no medication at the vet’s office, yet she relaxed soon after she was given water by bolus. We know that at best, we are buying her a little more time. The objective is that she will eat and drink. If she will eat and drink, we will keep her on comfort care, provided she has a reasonable quality of life. If she enjoys her walks, a toy or two, and perhaps a bit of laser light chasing, we will consider this a reasonable quality of life. Amberly and I have "brought back" a cat (Sierra Sue) with hepatitis; prolonged the life of Dewey, a diabetic cat, for several years; saved Beauregard Doxie’s life after adverse reactions to Metacam; made Ashely more comfortable for a while; and helped Callie to recover from another problem by use of IV and bolus therapy at home. All but the cat with hepatitis were treated by boluses, but we had the cat on the couch hooked up to a human IV pole. The vet had said that Sierra Sue had little hope. Amberly focused on "hope," and took her cat home. She called a doctor for whom she once worked, and said that she wanted him to come up and start the IV. He told her to go to the office, get an IV setup and a pole, and to start the IV herself (he was out of town, but on his way back). Amberly told him that she didn't know how to start an IV on a cat. He told her that she knew how, but just didn't know she knew. She argued. He told her to reason it through, and just do it since every minute counted. She argued some more. He told her to start that IV, and the cat better not be dead when he got to her house due to her not getting the IV started! I held Sue while Amberly started the IV. Amberly, our doctor friend, and I took shifts sitting with her around the clock for several days. Sue lived several more happy years ~ years she would not have had were it not for Amberly’s tenacity. The vet, the doctor, and I thought Amberly was prolonging agony. We were mistaken. I learned you really can tell a tortoiseshell cat is jaundiced (eyes, paw pads, wherever hair is sparse). We treated Amberly's diabetic cat named Dewey in the staff bathroom at the doctor's office. Amberly would bring Dewey to work with her, and put him in the bathroom for the day. After all the patients were gone, she would put a needle underneath the skin at the back of his neck, and "blow him up" with water. He’d look like a gray and white camel. My job was to be the human IV pole. Dewey’s vet said that it was a good idea for Amberly to treat him at home, because his blood sugar was inaccurate at his office due to his panic (vet didn’t like being shredded by a big, fat tomcat either, so it was a good arrangement). As I’ve written about our baby, Calico Rose, better known as Callie by her close friends, my mind wandered to some of our other fur babies. I didn’t exactly stay on topic, but I believe you will understand. Callie refused her lunch, but I was able to get a few bites of potatoes into her later (All right. I’ll acknowledge I chewed them for her. At this point, I’ll chew anything except dog food and rawhide for her, if she’ll eat.). She also drank some water on her own. I’d found evidence that she had pounded the water in her bowl with her paw again earlier, because she couldn’t drink. In truth, I question that she will be able to drink enough at this stage. Her output is more than her intake. She’s still unstable on her feet when she tries to walk, which is a symptom of Stage 4 (end-stage) kidney disease. I think we will know within another two days whether the antibiotic is going to work. We all know it can’t give much more quality time, for there is no cure for kidney disease no matter the treatment and the deep, deep love and affection lavished. I’ve been trying to write since last night, but could not. Jerry’s having a rough day. He said that his “nerves are shot.” He sat and held Callie for a little while. I saw him slowly and softly rubbing her little head. I took her again soon. It’s too hard. Blessings, Carrie

I have an update on Callie. I texted Amberly to tell her that Callie has become worse, and that I really don't want to wrap myself around anyone's head, but someone needs to be helping Callie. Amberly called the vet's office again, and Callie will be seen today as soon as Amberly can get away from work. That's the abbreviated version. Callie's showing increased symptoms of uremia. Her hind legs are not holding her up well. Her breath has an exceptionally strong ammonia odor (has been increasing over time; really bad today). She's beating the water in her dish with her paws, causing it to splatter onto the floor several feet away from her dish. She's thirsty, but can't drink. The diarrhea has increased in number, but there's no food in her stomach. Her skin tells me that she is severely dehydrated. Unless she has IV therapy, I don't think she can live until tomorrow. That's why I was threatening to wrap myself around someone's head. Our baby is in trouble. I had to. I've been down the uremia road before, so I know what I'm seeing, I think. Of course, my assessment is made without BUN and creatinine levels known. Amberly just texted me to say that she's on her way home. Please pray that we will make whatever decision is right for Callie. I so wish our regular vet was here, but wishing doesn't make it so. Jerry has promised me that he will stay parked on the couch in our bedroom until I get home. I don't leave him! The vet's office is only 2 miles away, so we shouldn't be long. One scared Carrie

We try to donate quarterly. I'm late this time, not because I forgot, but because many things are happening here. We'll donate today using PayPal. I asked Jerry to donate a couple of weeks ago, but since I didn't write it, bless his heart, he forgot. Yes, I'm from the Deep South. I was transplanted in California, Jerry's homestate, forty-seven years ago, and my root system thrives well here. I love my second home. Carrie

Thank you, Carrie, for your response, and for your kind words. I will pray for you as well, for I hear your hurting heart speaking. Yes, things have been something akin to a rollercoaster ride around here for a while. We lose our precious babies' hugs, so we turn to the arms of our virtual friends here, and give thanks for each one. Blessings, Carrie, too

Dear Mary, Thank you for responding. The first dental went well for Ashely, although she had KD already. She lived only 3 weeks after her dental surgery, even though her "numbers" were low. I believe it was ten days after Ashely's death that we learned Callie has KD, and her numbers were higher than Ashely's were even at the time of her death (prior to surgery). The anesthetic put Ashely in a downward spiral, and her numbers soared. We learned about Callie when we had her lab work done for her dental. The vet really hated to tell us, because our hearts were already breaking. He's been a family friend for decades (He knows about my husband, Jerry, and his growing aneurysms and all he/we went through). Callie had bad teeth even in Oct 2014, but we've treated her with amoxicillin and metacam (anti inflammatory for arthritis, which vet said would help with dental problems also). I haven't been able to give it her for over a week due to her not eating well. Because Ashely and Callie are cousins, the vet has been particularly conservative in his treatment of Callie. They've mentioned in 2014 keeping her on IV fluids for two days prior to any dental work, yet tell us honestly that they don't think it will help a lot. We were also told that she would be miserable while caged with her movement restricted. It's a tough thing to decide. I'm asking God what we need to do, for she is His baby also. He created our fur baby, so she belongs to Him even more than to us. He understands our hearts, and that gives us some comfort. Still, it hurts so badly. Death still has an awful sting. I'm grateful for His Rainbow Bridge. As I write, Amberly texted that our vet is away until July 27!! Oh, no! Callie can see another doctor in his office at 4:40 tomorrow. We will take it. Someone has to help her soon. They're to call Amberly back about the buprenex. I'll beg tomorrow, if need be. You are right in all that you said about our wee doggies. If Molly has no major health problems, I think I would get her teeth done in case the ugly beast KD, or another serious disease, raises its head later in her life. Carrie

Dear Kay, Thank you also for your care and understanding. I'm telling myself that Callie can have surgery, and can live a while longer. It's possible surgery might buy her some time. Right now, we wait. Thank all of you for waiting with us. I will keep you informed. I've yet to hear from Amberly. She's likely eyeball deep getting her staff lined out. It's early yet, but it seems to be taking forever. I have to let her call, because only she will know when she can drive us to the vet. Blessings and warm hugs to all. Carrie

Dear Anne, Thank you for caring. Our posts crossed each other. Carrie

Thank you so much, dear Marty. I know you and others here know this pain. Jerry came to get me yesterday when he found Callie shaking with pain, and evidence that she had vomited in his shop. I took her to Jerry's bathroom to weigh her. Her normal weight is 9.5 pounds (10 when chubby). She weighed 8.5 pounds yesterday (wavered on 8, but settled on 8.5). That is a huge weight loss for a Doxie. I brought her to the back deck with Jerry and me, and held her for a couple of hours in the late afternoon with hope that the cool breezes might help her feel better. She shook almost the entire time. I texted Amberly to tell her that it's decision time. She said that she will call our vet today. I asked her to get buprenex ordered right away for her severe pain, if possible. Since Jerry became unable to have Callie sleep with us, she has slept with Amberly. Both Ashely and Callie slept with Jerry and me for 14 years. Ashely slept in my left arm, and Callie slept between us. Poor Jerry often found himself hanging onto his side of the bed due to Callie getting crosswise the bed, bowing up, and kicking him with all the power she has in her inch and a half hind legs (a surprising wallop for one so little!). Amberly got little sleep after 1:30 a.m. this morning, because Callie's tummy hurt, and she had diarrhea.

Copperpot, I am so sorry for all the pain you are suffering due to your double losses. Your little Copperpot has to be one of the sweetest-faced dogs God ever made. Copperpot is a masterpiece. My heart is stolen, and I am smitten. I understand your hurting heart, at least somewhat. I'll tell you the reason for my understanding. I am hurting so badly myself as I write to you. We lost our little Black and Tan Doxie named Ashely Rose on 10 October 2014 due to kidney disease, and I still grieve each time I think of her, which is many times every day. In my situation, the vets have the guilt, although they don't feel it, and I have deep, deep remorse that would destroy any joy I might find unless I consciously fight against the pain each time I think of her. I cannot allow that to happen at this particular time; I have no choice but to suppress my emotions regarding her due to anticipatory grief regarding my husband. Losses come at us hard and fast, don't they? Within a few days after Ashely's death, our other little girl Doxie, Callie, was diagnosed with kidney disease. Ashely and Callie were/are cousins and one day apart in age. Callie turned fifteen on June 29. She has a growth between her teeth that will require surgery as soon as we can get her scheduled, because she's going off her food due to the growth and bad teeth. We delayed surgery due to the likelihood of anesthesia causing KD to speed up and take her life, as happened with Ashely. We can no longer postpone surgery by treating her with antibiotics and pain medications. We postponed as long as her pain could be reasonably managed. It is now out of control. We have suffered anticipatory grief for Callie since Ashely's death. We are not even sure surgery will be possible, but we think so. It's for sure Callie must not be allowed to suffer agony any longer. Her pain level is no longer at a level that allows her to have quality of life. I can hardly bear to say, "It is time," so soon after Ashely died. Going through this again simply seems impossible, but here it is. If the growth has become cancerous, we will not treat with chemo. Our baby girl has suffered enough. Kidney didease has already caused her to have severe nausea and diarrhea. If she could be healed, we would do everything possible treatment-wise, but she's already dying slowly (?) with kidney disease. We hurt. Carrie

Thank you, Simon, for your heart-felt, and lovely poetry. Regardless of age, or number of years together, the loss of our soulmate rips one heart in two. The very old are never ready either, and are often at their weakest and neediest, physically and emotionally, when their greatest hurt comes. You are right in saying that the sadness is the same. I hurt for each of you, and for all of us here. May God hold us all gently and tenderly. Carrie

We all still care very much that you hurt, and we still pray for you. Warm hugs, Carrie

Kay, You wrote beautifully of your experience with the fawn. Thank you for sharing your story with us, for it warms our hearts, and shows us your own kind heart. You are a blessing to your friends, and to God's created "critters" of the forest. Your act did not go unnoticed by Him. As Amberly was going to work a few days ago, she texted to tell me there was a doe "giving her two babies breakfast" across the street from our house. I've never had the pleasure to watch a mother deer nurse her babies. How special! Blessings, Carrie

Your outfit sounds so lovely and perfect, Kay. I'm so happy you found just the right thing. That's not an easy thing to do these days. I'm also happy for Arlie! Carrie

Teny, My family and I, as well as many on this forum, will pray for you, and for your country. We pray for peace and safety especially for you and your family, but also for all suffering there. May God help you in all ways you need help. Know you are being thought of through each day. Carrie

Thank you, Anne, for your wonderful sense of humor. I needed it today. Carrie

Hello, Each of us is searching for hope, perhaps especially some of those new to grief. I'm speaking from my own desperate hope that I will live as I grieve, rather than die while I live. Knowing that our spirit goes back to God who gave it, at the moment of death, gives me peace that my loved one will be safe and happy from the moment he exhales here on Earth and inhales in Heaven. I also know I will never be truly alone, for Jesus said that He will never leave me. Jesus created us to be social beings, and with a need for human relationships. He has and will provide whomever and whatever I need. I look to Him to heal my shattered heart ~ in time ~ and then someday, I'll join my loved one, and will myself be as happy as he himself. Your writing is exceptional, and thank you for hope and encouragement. Carrie

I, too, have a positive. Amberly's meeting went even better than expected. The "bad apples" will cause no more harm. Sometimes we must wait for God to answer, but this time, His answer came speedily. We give Him praise and thanks. Carrie

Kay, I'm so happy for you regarding the outcome of your situation at your church. It appears God removed the "bad apple" who was doing your church harm. Amberly is dealing with two "bad apples" at work. She is their supervisor. She has a good team, except for these two cause others to become disgruntled by their negativity. She's meeting with her supervisor about them this morning, so we are praying for an outcome and solutions that will benefit all concerned. Such will certainly be a positive for us. I say "for us," knowing you will understand that what affects our children, affects us as well. God is good, and will make things right. We wait for His timing (likely not as patiently as we should), for His timing is perfect. Carrie

Dear Suzanne, Thank you for your beautiful love story as told in your, "The Flower and the Spring." The love story of King Solomon and his Shulamite Girl comes to mind. By God's great love and guidance, I identify and understand. Blessings, Carrie

Fae, I hope you have a lovely day also, Fae. Thank you for thinking of me.❤️ Thank you also for your descriptive writing, which enables us to see what you see. Carrie

Dear Priscilla, I remember you, and your little Rosie. I'm sorry you are still hurting so deeply. I'm not at all surprised though. You are new into your grief over your losses of Rosie, your home, and your mother as she used to be. I took care of my mother for twenty years. After some time after she became total care, I did need to hire a live-in LVN. Your job is emotionally and physically exhausting. There are others here who are more capable of recommending particular resources that might be helpful for you. You do really have your hands and heart full. I'm sorry. You will know when to adopt a new "little love." Perhaps it's better to wait at least a little while longer in order to give yourself time to adjust to so many major changes. A puppy requires a lot of consistent training, so he or she will be happy and well-adjusted. As much as I love Doxies, there is no way I could have time for the training. We who are taking special care of loved ones have little time for extras. I'm speaking from my own circumstances. One reason I'm not surprised that you are still hurting is that when I wrote today's date on something tonight, I wrote the year as 2028. I wondered, "Where did THAT come from?" After a few seconds, I remembered. June 28 is our little Ashely's birthday (black and tan Doxie); she would have been fifteen soon. I had been thinking about her today as I ironed Jerry's shirts, so she was still in my subconscious mind. I had been thinking that Ashely's cousin, Callie, will be fifteen on the 29th. She, too, has kidney disease. Ashely died last October 10. When love is deep and long, so is the grief. I am writing this late, so if I have stacked up letters, I'm sorry. Take good care of yourself, and know that we care about you, and what you are going through. Blessings, Carrie

Remembering you today as you remember George. ❤️