Sidney

You wouldn’t know it just by looking at him, but Sidney is one tough dog.  I call him the “Energizer Beagle” because no matter what life throws at him…abuse, neglect, hunger, bad teeth, a heart murmur, and most recently, congestive heart failure… he bounces right back and doesn’t let anything get in his way or slow him down. 

He’s spending a third night at the vet’s office, hooked up to an IV delivering fluids to cleanse his ailing kidneys.  Within just a a few days he started sleeping all the time, declined to join his three canine pals and I on our daily romps through the woods, lost his appetite, and his fur began falling out in clumps.   
 
I took him to the vet on Thursday afternoon and Dr. H. took one look at him and said he wanted to run blood tests and take an x-ray.  After Sidney was brought back to the examining room and we awaited the results alone together, I just knew in my gut that it was going to be bad news. 

             

Sidney’s kidney values are extremely high.  Last year at this time, when the animal experts and I were deciding whether or not to put him through another round of teeth cleaning, they had come back normal, but he was diagnosed with a heart murmur.  He’s been on a steady regiment of heart medications ever since, with two more prescriptions having been added this past fall ( Dr. H. has seen that same drug combination lead to kidney problems in other dogs before).  Our best option at this time was to stop giving Sid his heart meds, especially since one of them acts as a diuretic, and get some fluids into him.

I took off work early yesterday afternoon so I could spend some time with him before the vet’s office closed at 5:00 p.m.  His values hadn’t changed much, although his appetite had returned (“he ate with gusto!”) and light and life had returned to his eyes.  The vet’s office was testing him again this morning and so I drove to their office (which is a half hour drive away) to get the results in person and keeping my fingers crossed that I would be leaving with him.  However,  Dr. S. (a vet who I love…she actually takes the time to listen as well as explain things in detail to you), told me he was spending another night…his BUN (blood urea nitrogen) value was still off the charts and the others hadn’t dropped much either.  Remarkably so far, his heart isn’t reacting negatively to being off his meds.  Dr. S. commented on what a tough, resilient old dog he is.

             

I adopted Sidney from the local animal shelter in April 2000 when he was four years old.  He had been discovered by a couple hiking in the woods somewhere in the Chatham area and had been on the brink of starvation and suffering a form of the mange (I wish I knew who those people were—I have always wanted to thank them for saving his life).  That’s all I know about Sidney's existence before he came home with me, although I have caught glimpses of what his previous life must have been like just by observing his behavior for the past 13 years.  He wasn’t potty trained so he was most likely an outdoor dog, and he had a strong fear of men--it took him a long time to trust my husband after we had started dating.   Although he’s mellowed with age, he still takes his time warming up to men, but once he does, you have a friend for life.  However, I’m still the only person who is able to touch him on his backside, near his tail, without him freaking out.

Sidney is my protector and comic relief.  When I cry, he is the one who comes to me and offers comfort with just his love and presence.  He loves to be held in my arms and cuddled like a baby.  
 

I am trying to remain both optimistic and realistic at the same time—but it’s a strange balancing act and reality is gaining a stubborn foot-hold this time.  I’ve known for several months, despite his spunk and spurts of energy, that his life is winding down.  He’s 17 years old.  Just a month ago, during one of our hikes through the woods on a gorgeous, Saturday afternoon, watching him revel in all his handsome Beagle glory, I sent out a prayer to the universe asking that he be allowed to enjoy at least one more summer.

It probably sounds like I’m being very brave and selfless, but I’m not.  I don’t want my dog to die—but what I want and what he needs are probably two very different things.   What I do know is that I absolutely refuse to inflict any unnecessary treatments on him that will only prolong his life but do nothing to enhance the quality of it.  I don’t want him to die all alone in a kennel at the vet’s office.  I just want to bring him home so he can be surrounded by all of us humans, dogs, cats, and chickens. who love him best.  If nothing more can be done for him, I want him to die wrapped up in my arms, knowing how much he is loved.  I want to be the one who helps him transition from his place in this world to whatever adventures he has to look forward to in the next.           

The one I am most worried about is Di’ogi.  I adopted her from the same shelter just four months after Sidney and the two of them have been inseparable ever since.  Di’ogi is Sid’s security blanket, and we all lovingly call him the “Barnacle.” It’s as if he believes Di’ogi is a literal extension of himself.  I think that during all their years together so far, they’ve only spent one night apart (when he went in for a surgery).   These past couple of days have been hard for her...I catch her looking around for him and she’s sticking pretty close to me--not allowing me to stray too far outside her line of vision, lest I should go missing too.