My dog passed away today.
Saturday, July 10th, 2010Buddy Hwang, my dog, passed away today. He was twelve years and eight months old long-haired Chihuahua with a heart bigger than mine. He used to follow me everywhere when he could see. He was very ferociously protective of me yet easy to coerce with treats but was so quick to turn back into ferocious mode after he finished. I used to play hide-and-seek with him and he would always find me. Even when he was blind, he would walk around the living room until he felt or smelled me then sit or lay down making contact so that he’ll know when I move. Somehow, he would always make me feel better regardless of what was happening. He was diagnosed with diabetes relatively recently and had been blind for the last few years of his life yet his determination and ability to show me love and loyalty was unbelievable and this is what I will miss most about him.
On Thursday July 8th, I came home from work and as usual, as soon as he smelled me, he tried to run around and find his fluffy toy. This is what he always does when I get home. I held him and kissed him to tell him I was home and put him down where he could feel the toy. He started playing with it and kicked it around until he couldn’t find it anymore. He smelled the area around him to try to find it but it was out of his reach so I grabbed it and tossed it to his feet. When he calmed down a bit, he sat down and had a bit of a coughing fit that lasted about 5 seconds except with the last cough he coughed up a white foamy liquid. He also seemed to have fluid in his lungs as I could hear gurgling when he was breathing. I wish I recognized this as the warning to take him to the vet then and there. For some reason, he doesn’t seem to drink his water when he is home alone. I know this because his water is about the same level I had left it in the morning and he gulps down water when I get home. He knows how to find the water bowl and does normally when I am at home. So I knew he hadn’t drank in a while so I refilled his water bowl with some fresh water and he gulped some down. Eventually, he realized it was time for dinner. He heard me preparing his dinner and was excited so walked around the living room in a circle at a surprising pace, trying to hear and smell the food in anticipation. Sometimes he would whine or yelp telling me to hurry up. As he gulped down his food, I prepared his insulin and gave him his shot as he was licking his finished dinner bowl. He seemed a little out of breath but other then that he seemed fine.
I lay him down on my lap in front of my computer as it is our routine after dinner. He started sleeping on my lap. When my lap gets too warm, he gets up and I move him to the bed. The bed got too warm for him as well so I put him down to sleep on the floor and he napped for about an hour. At this point, I realized he was breathing with his mouth open, as dogs often do when they are trying to cool down. The room was not warm and he usually can cool down quickly on the floor so that was unusual. Around 1AM Friday morning, I was getting ready for bed. Buddy found his pee pads and did both of his business quite normally. Buddy alternated from breathing with his mouth open and breathing normally although his breathing seemed unusually shallow and quick. He wasn’t moving around normally and he would only take a couple licks of water when I put his water bowl under his chin whereas he would normally gulp it down to cool off before laying sideways to sleep. Oddly, he had his neck extended as if he was smelling something in the air except he wasn’t smelling anything at all. I put him on the bed and we slept for a little while.
At 4AM Friday morning, I woke up to Buddy having another coughing fit. I felt his chest and I could feel his heart was beating really hard and fast and he had very labored and shallow breathing still with his neck extended. I turned the lights on and realized he had coughed up more of the white foamy substance. I tried to give him a little bit of his food because he would normally eat at any given day and time. He refused. At this point I feared that there is something very serious wrong. I called the emergency clinic and soon took him there. The ER vet said that he was having difficulty breathing by himself so they placed him in oxygen so he could breath easily. They were trying to get some blood from him to see if he would be able to take Furosemide (which has a side-effect on the kidneys) but they feared that at his excited state, he could collapse if they tried too hard to restrain him for blood. I asked if it was possible for me to hold him to help him calm down because I couldn’t imagine what Buddy would be thinking and acting being handled by complete strangers. They recommended no because he could collapse and they didn’t want me to see that and feared what I would do if that were to happen. Eventually, they were able to draw some blood and found his kidney levels were slightly elevated but recommended to give him the diuretic anyway. Then they took some x-rays and sent the x-rays off to third party radiologists for review. The first diagnosis after several radiographs was congenitive heart failure. The ER vet told me she also suspected pneumonia but he didn’t have a fever so CHF was the most likely issue. I was told to leave him there until the internal medicine specialists came in during normal business hours. I was told Buddy was resting somewhat comfortably although he still was in a critical state.
Before I left, I was able to see him around 9AM in the oxygen box, he was on his stomach and seemed to be sleeping or just resting (his face was turned away from the front). They didn’t want to excite him so didn’t allow me to put my hand in or hold him. I went home with tears streaming down my face… I had never seen Buddy in such a bad condition and it was horrifying to leave him at a place he probably hated the most. At this point, I was just waiting to hear back from an internist.
Later that day, I got a call from the internist. The internal medicine vet said an ultrasound of his heart showed that it was relatively normal size and functioning normally so it was not CHF but they suspected it was pneumonia so were going to give him some antibiotics and recommended he stay there for 3-4 days to see how he did. The vet sounded optimistic but said Buddy is “not out of the woods yet”. At this point, I felt a little relieved because I believed there was still hope because their recommendation for him to stay there for 3-4 days meant that he would be fine during those days and also pneumonia was something that could be treated and fought. Later in the day, I wondered about how Buddy would be fed and his diabetes treated during this whole time since dogs do not react well to sudden diet switches. I called and they said I could drop off his food and insulin. Around 8PM, I went over to drop off his food, insulin, and eye drops he was prescribed several weeks ago for inflammation. They allowed me to see him. He was wrapped around in a blanket because the tech said his temperature was a little low. I let him smell my hand to let him know that I was there and pet him. It took him a minute but he lifted up his head and smelled around. I hope that was a sign that he recognized me but soon put his head back down. The tech said that he ate food around 4PM. I asked if he was still having trouble breathing by himself and the tech said that she tried to walk him earlier but he was getting excited and still having trouble breathing alone outside of the oxygen therapy tank. Yet I was still very hopeful and relieved that he seemed to be doing better, certainly better than the night before. I was optimistic for Buddy.
I was restless on Friday night and could not fall asleep. I prayed for Buddy to get better and was hopeful that the vet would have good news the following morning. I woke up around 8AM on Saturday but stayed in bed until around 9AM when I got a call from the vet. The vet said that Buddy was doing fine the night before but surprisingly collapsed that morning and had blood coming out of his nose and mouth. They tried to resuscitate him without success. The vet didn’t really seem to know why he collapsed. The shock was delayed by a few minutes while I was still on the phone. I could not believe that Buddy has passed away and I would never see him again.
I called my family that all knew and formerly lived and cared for Buddy that he had passed away at the hospital. I agreed to let both of my sisters discuss and decide what to do. One of my sisters and my brother-in-law came over to help me. They were there with me when I picked him up at the hospital and took him to be cremated. We were given his body in a cardboard box. The weight of the box was eerily familiar. A gentlemen coming into the hospital held open the door for us that knew said he was sorry. I thanked him. It was too much to hold back my tears. I held the precious box on my lap in the car and I could feel the push and pull of the Buddy’s momentum when we stopped and accelerated. I kissed the box a couple of times and cried some more.
At the crematorium, I was asked if I wanted a moment alone with the body. I said yes because I wanted to say my goodbye and tell Buddy that I loved him and also to thank him for everything. I did not want to see Buddy in that state but since I had not had a chance to say goodbye, I felt that I owed him at least that much. I held him in my arms as I would normally and whispered my love, thanks, and goodbye in his ear and gave him a final kiss before laying him back down in peace. Buddy was cremated alone. I wanted his ashes.
They say that hindsight is always 20/20 but I wish that I had taken him back home the night before so that if he were to pass away, he did so with me by his side so that he would know that I would be with him to the end like I know he would be with me. I hope that he passed away because it was his time and not because of any mistake that I or the vets made. Maybe if I were to have taken him to the emergency clinic as soon as I saw him cough up the foam right after I came back from work… I am very sad that he did not die as peacefully as I would have liked. As I write this, I feel a lot of guilt because I know that there are a lot of things that I could have done better for Buddy and not being there with him when he died is only adding to my guilt. I am truly sorry, Buddy… I should have been a better carer of you.
This is one of the saddest days of my life. It’s the kind of sadness that makes you feel an untouchable pain and strange emptiness. As I write this, I am still straining to hear the click-clacks of his nails on the hardwood floors. I look over to the bed to see if he is still sleeping. I am constantly scouring the floor looking for him. Ever since I bought my place and lived alone with Buddy, the only thing I had to do was to take care of Buddy. Now that he has passed away, I don’t know what to do now without him. People have said to me before that they hated living alone. I never felt that way but just came to the realization that I have never truly lived alone until today because Buddy was always here for me and now my place seems completely empty. I went out to a bookstore to find a book that may help me cope with Buddy’s passing but I felt the normal urge to get back home as soon as possible to be with Buddy even though I knew he was not there.
I miss him already and will miss him always. I will miss being able to hold him and stroke him. I will miss his pawing telling me to rub his belly; the look of satisfaction he shows with his eyes closed when I do. I will miss his smell. I will miss the feeling of his warmth next to me. I will miss his ability to keep time somehow and whine for food like an alarm clock every morning and evening. I will miss his excitement and welcome home after work. I will miss him sleeping soundly next to my pillow every night.
I write this as a tribute to Buddy and in his remembrance. Buddy, I love you and will miss you. You were my best friend and always will be my best friend. I will never forget you.
Love,
John
