My husband took Kodi who had just turned 11 to the vet who said it was either allergies or something really bad. The vet could not believe Kodi was 11. She said he looked too young to be an older dog. I think that's why we couldn't believe it could be bad. We could not afford the visit let alone tests so we waited knowing that if it was bad there wasn't anything they could do. After a couple weeks his breathing worsened and we had to find out. So he took him back for an x-ray which confirmed he had a sinus tumor. The vet didn't seem optimistic at all and even offered to put him down right then. My husband declined.
When he told me the prognosis I cried so hard. I mean Kodi is such a special dog, beautiful, obedient, almost knowing what you wanted before you said it, smart, loving, licky, sweet, attentive and just plain adorable. There was something about him everyone loved him, wanted him, people were just drawn to him. I couldn't imagine him not being here. Lately he was always right in front of me everywhere I went. I was constantly tripping over him. It was like he knew which direction I would be walking and there he was. Like he was trying to spend every moment near us. I called my homeopathic doctor and started him on a regimen. The prednisone the vet gave him made him look better because the swelling went down.
We could tell he was having trouble eating, some days he wouldn't. He started having trouble sleeping too. He started sleeping on his belly, I think to be able to lift himself up when he couldn't breathe. I noticed he stopped having REM sleep. Then we came home one night and I hear a shlopping sound, but he wasn't near his bowl. When I went to look he had bled all over the carpet, a pool of blood from his nose. Tom grabbed him since he wasn't wearing a collar and tried to get him out of the house and in the process, well let's just say it looked like a bloodbath inside and out. He had gone through the house on the tile to the garage and outside, up the walkway and right up to the front porch and sneezed all over. Tom got a blanket and drove him to the emergency vet. While yours truly stayed home and cleaned blood out of the carpet while trying to keep a toddler from walking through it. I even scrubbed the front porch and the walkway because two of my kids were out and I didn't want them thinking we had been murdered when they came home.
The vet had no hope, it was normal with this tumor. They gave him an herbal remedy to help. The next day he bled again and the next even more. He was barely sleeping now and so tired he would walk next us, but there was no more running, no more playing with the pups, no more picking up his rope. We called our family to tell them and my niece said she was coming and to wait for her. She loved Kodi and wanted to see him one more time. When she arrived we cooked a dinner of chicken and dumplings, a little comfort food for us and fed Kodi organic chicken and bacon. He did perk up a little. Just enough to give us hope even though we knew there was none. We comforted ourselves with spoiling him immensly. We took pictures with him on the front porch.
Then we made the long drive to the vet. We said goodbye to Kodi, the best dog in the world and left the room, My husband and 9 yr old son stayed with Kodi. I was so proud of my son who said, "I don't want to leave him alone." He is so compassionate even though it was a difficult thing for him. It seemed like one minute and then they were back in the lobby with us. We all sobbed, not cried, sobbed. I had to drive because my husband couldn't, he sat with our son and held him. As we drove away the sunset was the most beautiful sunset ever. Bright pink clouds near the horizon and purple above it in streaks. We knew God gave it to us. It was our comfort from him. It was a beautiful thing to look at as drove home in silence quietly sobbing.
When we got home we could barely talk. It was like none of us could believe that the vibrant beautiful dog from a couple months ago was just gone. Even the pups just laid there not moving. They barely moved for days afterwards. I learned from other experiences that you try to act normal, do normal things. So I took our 9 yr old to our homeschool group the next day, he wanted to go. People were great, hugging me and sending good wishes and kind words. To the point I felt bad for not giving that attention to others who have gone through losing a pet. I'd just never been that close to any pet ever so I just didn't get it before.
I'm thankful he didn't seem to suffer. He seemed happy until the last second, we even brought bacon so it could be the last thing he ate and smelled. He got to have chocolate right before the end. Why not. He was happy, I don't think he even knew what was coming he was so happy. Good for him. We on the other hand were devastated. All I had left was a paw print and a little bit of hair we'd brushed out before we took him in. No more cuddles, licks and fuzzy butt to rub. He loved his butt rubbed. We never did that video of his cat like antics, or when he'd run under the bed and hide and then jump out at us, or the way he'd run around the yard like a maniac trying to tag us like a cat, playing "you can't catch me". No more rope pulling or bone chewing or huge wads of that gorgeous hair on the carpet.
I was so glad for my niece being there. So glad for her comfort and love for him and the distraction of her company. When she left it got so quiet and sad. I knew my mom couldn't come with just losing Ashley. It's day three and I'm still crying on and off. One minute I'll think, "I'm going to be fine." the next I feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest. I know there's only one cure for this kind of heartbreak, the healing Jesus brings. When you have a minute, search the song, It Is Well (With My Soul). Read the background on it. I sing it for comfort and to know that others have gone through so much more and recovered. I'm not alone and I lean on my family and I trust God that he will heal my heart in time. In the meantime, I see the rope sitting there in front of the fireplace and cannot bring myself to pick it up, to put it away. It just seems to final.