Dogs, Death and Dying

We lost a family member last week.
He was only 8 years young - really young when one considers the expected lifespan of Miniature Schnauzer is 14-16 years.
For most of those years he was the epitome of health.
He had an appetite that would put a Great Dane to shame and he had the strength of 8 Huskies pulling a sled when he was walked on his leash.
He was solid muscle and athletic as hell, able to "leap tall buildings with a single bound!"
Just prior to my return from Florida in April, our groomer notified us that she found a very large tumor at the top of his leg, near the front right armpit, one she said was not there when she last groomed him in January or February.
Not prone to panic, I immediately scheduled an appointment with our veterinarian who examined Baxter, took a biopsy and sent us on our way saying he would call as soon as the lab work came back. When it finally did, almost a week later, they still could not define the exact type but did confirm that it was indeed cancer. I needed to come in and talk about the options.
I quickly scheduled a consult and though I went in dreading the thought of amputation, I left wishing it were an option!
The tumor had nearly doubled in size in 8 days and due to the location and need for large margins for surgical removal, surgery was not an option. The only thing worse than the terrible diagnosis was the location of this monster tumor. And we discovered new tumors in various other locations.
We were then referred to the oncology department at the amazing CSU Veterinary Hospital in Ft. Collins, CO, where further tests determined the cancer to be Grade 3, Stage 4 Mast Cell Tumors.

Prognosis: Shitty!
But I felt Baxter deserved a shot and a promising new cancer drug called Palladia was an option worth trying.
It's given orally 3x weekly, with steroids given on alternate days along with an antacid and an antihistamine, both available over the counter. Regular visits to CSU continued as they did blood work and monitored the tumors. He tolerated all his medications very well and appeared to have no side effects.
Within three weeks time, we measured substantial shrinkage of the primary tumor as well as others that were subsequently discovered during the initial week or so of tests and lab work.
We were hopeful and Baxter seemed to be thriving.
But while some of the initial tumors had indeed gotten smaller, new ones appeared and that was not a good sign.
By late August, a large tumor appeared near the initial site and it obviously annoyed Baxter, who began licking at it. In no time, it ulcerated and began bleeding, prompting an immediate return to CSU. I'll spare you the details.
The look on the doctor's face said it all.
The Palladia was not working and his cancer continued to spread. They felt it was only a matter of weeks.
So I forced a smile through the tears, thanked the doctors and staff for all they tried to do, put on my big girl pants and once again made the hour long drive back to Boulder, knowing it would be Baxter's last visit to CSU.
Short of futile, expensive and stupid heroic measures there was nothing more they could do and I knew it. I had promised Baxter I wouldn't put him through anything I felt he couldn't handle so we went home to make his final weeks as comfortable as possible and they were.
We continued with the steroids, antacid, antihistamine and a new medication to settle his stomach.
Treating the symptoms and side effects was the best we could do at this point.
The week of the wildfire he had one slightly bad day where he threw up and seemed more tired than usual on his walk but I blamed the heat and smoke in the air as much as anything. By the next day he seemed to have rebounded.
And then one morning he walked away from his food bowl without eating.
Baxter loved food and never needed any encouragement when it came to eating but on his last night, he walked away again and though he ate a little out of my hand, it was clear he was doing it mostly to please me.
He started vomiting late that night and continued every hour or so until morning, when it became clear he could not even keep down water.
I knew Baxter would let me know when it was time and he did. I'll never forget that look in his eyes.

I called our Vet and made the appointment for 5pm.
We spent what little time remained making Baxter as comfortable as possible, removing the bandage and the annoying cone shaped collar that he was forced to wear in his final weeks.
As he lay in the cool grass under the willow in the back yard, we gently brushed him for what seemed like hours and told him repeatedly how much he was loved. He was peaceful and ready.
With the assistance of our vet and his amazingly compassionate technician, we became Baxter's personal Hospice team and provided him with a peaceful and painless exit from this life.
As we said our final goodbyes and kissed him one last time through our tears, I thought back on all the other dogs that became family members who in the end, needed us to be there for them and to accept responsibility for making the final decision. They filled our lives with joy and unconditional love and it's our responsibility to take care of them in the end. It's the way we pay them back for all they have given us.
Goodbye Baxter.
You were a great dog.
We loved you.
And you will be missed forever.
xo