Her Last Day

Sleeping on my bed

I miss her most tonight. I thought, "It is time to go to bed with my computer and books"  and then "but first I have to take Nikki out first."  But of course Nikki is not here anymore.  I miss going out at night with her, seeing the moon, the stars, the trees sighing and the slight fear that someone may be in the shadows. But I had my guard dog with me.  Some people are afraid of little dogs or any dog. They bark. They might bite. Mine would probably lick someone to death first. But I felt mostly safe with her.

Yesterday I took my little girl Nikki dog to the vet. I knew she was very thin, last time we went she weighed 11 lbs. She should weigh 15 lbs at least. Now she weighed 9 lbs.  I knew she was not eating anything anymore but her treats. I knew she was not strong enough to get up sometimes when she squatted to pee.  I knew she had a stage 4 or 5 (out of 6) mitral valve prolapse (heart murmur) for years and takes a pill for it.  I knew she had a tumor in her abdomen that had grown very large, so large I could grab it with my fist and not begin to get my fist around it. I could feel the ridges of it even. It was taking up space in her tiny body, pushing her organs out of its way. I knew she was not having fun anymore. She hardly noticed when another dog was around. Normally she would bark her head off at another dog and try to chase the squirrels in the yard.

I had made an appointment last week to see the vet and make sure it was time. But I cancelled it because I couldn't face it. And I was sad, crying and depressed all that day.  So when I described to the vet assistant what was going on with Nikki and then the vet, Dr. Endicott at Woodhaven Veterinary Clinic, came in, I said, "It's time, isn't it?" and she nodded sadly.  She told me we could do it right then, that day. Or I could come back later that day or schedule another day. I was not prepared to do it right then. But I knew if I left it would be even harder to go back. And I knew my little companion of almost fifteen years was not having fun being a dog anymore. Her quality of life was very low.
She now weighed 9 lbs. She had lost 6 lbs over the last year. Her muscle mass was gone, she was skeletal, she was miserable.

The vet, Dr. Endicott, was the very best vet I could have ever asked for. She told me that I had given Nikki a glorious life, that she was not the dog she once was and showed me the picture of her they have of her healthy and full of life. Dr. Endicott explained exactly what would happen, as I cried. She said "Have you ever had to do this before?" and I shook my head and cried some more. I knew it had to be done. But I looked at my little girl and all I could think was, she has one bow in her hair. She needs to be washed off again (she was peeing on herself when sleeping) and she needed brushing.  The vet pointed out these things would probably be stressful to Nikki. Yes, they would be.

I had been told I did not need to be in the room but I knew how frightened she would be if I had left. So I stayed with her. She had been with me for almost 15 years, and I would be with her until the end. 

So the vet gave her the first shot, of sedation, after which I would have ten minutes to be with her. The first shot went right through her skin and came out the other side. She had no muscle and was so thin. So the vet got another shot and gave it to her. I sat by her and laid my head on the table with her as she lay on a very soft fleece pad. I petted her and looked at her and talked to her. She looked at me and occasionally blinked. Then the vet came in and gave her the next shot which would be much faster and I was looking at her and touching her when her life left her.

Dr. Endicott held me as I cried, devastated.  I was told I could stay with her as long as I wished but Nikki had left. So I kissed her and went to Devon's to be with the family I love. We all went to the Farmer's Market in Issaquah and I had a pulled pork slider and a strawberry ice cream cone. Thanks, Devon and Annie for being there for me when I really needed you.