Bye Bye Hound.

Just before christmas this year our family dog, Barney, who'd been with us fort over ten years was diagnosed with an inoperable tumour on his side. It had been getting bigger and bigger and the dog had been getting smaller and smaller so the vet did some tests and found out that it was not a lump of fat, it was a malignant tumour and there wasn't anything to be done but give the dog steroids to improve his appetite and perk him up a bit while we waited for things to get worse and to call time.

On Saturday the dog was fine. A little bit wobbly on his back legs but still up for raiding the fridge and going for a walk with my dog Geoffrey. Yesterday the dog was very much not fine. He was hot and listless, he wasn't even interested in eating cheese and he just lay on his bed looking miserable and fed up. My dad decided that he would release the moths from his wallet and pay for the dog to have an emergency appointment at the vet's because he looked so thoroughly fed up and we thought he'd picked up an infection while in kennels.

So off we go to the vet's me and my dad, having carried the dog to the car. We carried him into the surgery and sat down to wait. A spaniel came up to him adn he didn't even try and start a fight (he'd alway had a strange and irrational dislike of spaniels). Eventually we went in and the vet told us that the chances were that it wasn't an infection, the raised temperature was being caused by inflammation in the tumour and the reason his back legs were becoming unstable was that the tumour was encroaching on his spinal column. He told us we could try the dog on antibiotics to see if it was an infection and buy more time, a day or so, but he said in in that tone and with that expression that says it would be pissing int he wind to even try. So we agreed to call time. We said goodbye and my dad even shed a few tears, something that he didn't even do when his mother died. Mind you, the dog was a far nicer creature than his mother.

The vet and a nurse came through with a large syringe full of blue liquid and asked if we wanted to stay with him while they injected him. My dad said he couldn't and so did I. So we gave the dog a hug and walked out fo the room. Stupidly, like the idiot I am, I looked back as we were going out and he was watching us. Now I feel bloody awful for not staying with him while he died, I should have not been such a bloody wimp and stayed, he should have had someone stay with him that he knew and I didn't do it. I feel like a proper bitch.

He's not in pain now and we called time at the right moment, I know we did because he'd only shown signs for a day, he hadn't been in pain for months. But their house still doesn't feel right without him, I still feel like a failure for not staying with him while he was given the injection,my dog and my father are pining for him and I miss him. Poor old hound.

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4 Responses

  1. So sorry! I know that pets are just as close to people as family, sometimes even moreso. This is so sad!

  2. Oh sweetheart I'm so sorry you had to lose your dog.I wasn't in with any of our cats when they went either so I know how you feel, but at least this way you have only the memories of him alive 🙂

  3. Thanks. I just feel bad because he was watching us as we left the room and although he had a vet and a vet nurse there he didn't have anyone he knew. It seems eerily quiet in my mum and dad's house without him.

  4. I had a similar experience with our cat…. I knew he was in pain and weak but looking back, in denial about it being his last moments. To this day I regret not being with him when he died because he and I were so close and you're so right in saying its all in the eyes. But you know, I realise now, its more that I can't forgive myself rather than the other way around. Your dogs at peace – I guess that's what matters. *hugs*

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