Last week, I was 100% sure I would be having Otto euthanized at today’s appointment with a veterinarian who provides hospice and home-euthanasia services. I won’t beat around the bush; he’s still with us.
There was one important difference between last week and this: The “heat dome” that has kept California roasting for over a week finally broke, and temperatures dropped all the way down into the 80s, a welcome relief from a week with daily highs over 110°F. As dawn broke this morning, we even got a little spotty rain – bizarre for this area and this time of year, but welcome just the same.
As I said in my last post, Otto has never liked heat, and as an old guy, set in his ways, he was super grumpy about not being able to lay in his damp, shady sandbox outside. He didn’t want to be kept indoors (protected from the heat); he wanted to be outside, but outside was just awful! So he was extra miserable.
The veterinarian who came to my home today was impressed by Otto’s insistence at joining the scrum of dogs to greet her at my home-office door, even as young Boone and middle-aged Woody were knocking into him in their effusive greetings. She also was impressed by his intense interest in the treats I gave her to introduce herself to him. He’s also completely continent, in contrast to many of her other patients. Apparently, a lot of the dogs she sees in this type of practice are much closer to the end before their owners call her in, to the point where they won’t get up to greet someone, aren’t eating much, and are in diapers.
That made me feel a little bad; was I being over-anxious, pulling the trigger too soon? Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve been at the deathbed of loved ones – humans – who were in hospice care as well as those who were unable to receive hospice care for some reason; I just don’t want anyone I love to suffer before death. I’ve seen deathbed suffering; it’s ugly and unnecessary.
The doctor put some of my fears at ease. We discussed Otto’s panting, which I have interpreted as a symptom of pain and anxiety. She agreed that pain and anxiety could be a factor in his almost non-stop panting, but said something I’ve never heard before, that a lot of old dogs have enlarged livers (as I have been told Otto also has) and that as the liver enlarges, it pushes up against the diaphragm, and requires a little more forceful breathing.
She agreed that his front paws and elbows appear to be paining him quite a bit, and she could see how he has altered his posture to compensate, but thought that the amount of difficulty he shows in getting up from laying down is not too bad. As skinny as his thighs feel to me now, she thought his muscle tone was decent, given his age.
She also made me feel a bit better about the panic I was in last week. She said that a lot of old dogs have good days and bad days, and even good weeks and bad weeks, but that she often sees old dogs who look like they are death’s door bounce back when minor issues are addressed – and that the heat of last week was just pushing him past his ability to tolerate his chronic arthritic discomfort.
We reviewed his medications; he’s currently on omeprazole (for acid reflux), Galliprant (a non-steroidal anti-inflammatory), and Tramadol (a synthetic opioid). She suggested I add gabapentin back into the mix. I have had him on gabapentin before, for many months while he was also being given the Galliprant, but I could not say I ever saw any difference in either his discomfort or sleeping patterns when he was on it. But she thought the third medication might complement the Galliprant and Tramadol together, so I’ll give that a try again.
All in all, even though he seemed so much better today than he did last week, I’m so glad I brought this vet in for this examination and consultation. Given Otto’s lifelong aversion to slippery floors and most dogs’ apprehension to going to a vet’s office, it’s understandable that when I take him to see one of his regular vets, he always looks worse than he does as home, wide-eyed, trembling, and shaky. A month ago, I brought him to see his internal medicine doctor, and she seemed more dubious about his ability to go on than even I was last week. This morning, on his home turf, Otto seemed, for the most part, like a creaky, limpy, lumpy version of his usual unfailingly well-mannered and friendly self – if a little more unselfconscious about begging for treats than he ever used to be. Now this veterinarian will have an idea about his current baseline – where he is now, and what “too much” might look like. And I got some reassurance that I’m not doing to wrong thing by trying to keep him around at least a little longer.
A final note: Thank you all for your comments with support and advice. I read and appreciate every single one. I feel truly honored to be able to share my magnificent Otto with you, and I am grateful for your care and feeling for him more than I can possibly say.
This is so awesome. There is something so endearing about a senior dog, they just take my heart. Being able to do Rottweiler rescue is so rewarding, especially when you take in a senior dog. Most get that furever home even if it is for a short time. Those that don’t are unconditionally loved until their time comes breaking my heart. Better my heart than their soul in a cold unloving shelter environment.
As I read your journey with your precious Otto. It makes me try to look at my elderly Dalmatian/Aussie, Jersey. She turned 15 in May. Her subtle decline started after she lost her “life mate” a Jack Russell that she lived her whole life until a year and a half ago. It just seemed like her “spark” had dimmed. I didn’t realize Jersey was mostly deaf now, as the Sophie our Jack Russell was her beacon. I too have Jersey visiting our Canine Fitness Centre for therapy and laser, and this works when her neck and pelvis are out of alignment and causes her unstable movement. Stairs need assistance and Jersey won’t let me out of her sight. She has moments of that spark but her movements are slow and thought out. I too have seen the suffering in Hospice and I will never let any of my pups suffer but its a fine line. Jersey is on the Galliprant. I found that the Gabepentin made her very wobbly and seemed even more stressed. Every day that Jersey wants to walk and come with me and the new one year old Jack Russell, I am grateful. I can’t let my heart even comprehend the loss that I will experience as I am still mourning my late Sophie. Wishing you all the strength and heartfelt passion and commitment to love your Otto the very most when he needs it the most. I will try to do the same with my Jersey.
You are a good Mom! He is a lucky boy.
I had to put down my 15-year-old girl two years ago. I did not get to spend her last days with her on a daily basis, so it was brutal on me. Don’t know if I will ever have another dog but am hoping.
Dear Nancy,
I’ve been a subscriber to WDJ for a long time and have followed Otto from the start. He is just spectacular and always looks like he’s got a lot to say. I really appreciate your blog about his ups and downs – it’s been a few years since I’ve been on the rollercoaster, but it all comes back when I hear someone going through it w their beloveds. I know that the sharing of these experiences during this time is so very helpful to others who might be going through something similar and the support that you receive when you share is equally powerful. You are not only giving Otto the best care but looking beyond to make sure you haven’t missed anything. I can’t tell you how happy I am for hearing that Otto is not only still with us but that he still has some sass. Thank you for sharing with all of us who feel like we know you and him.
The mobile hospice vets are a godsend! I wish you and Otto joy and peace in your remaining time together.
I am from Minnesota and I certainly have been thinking about you… Very hard to loose a pet. One of your previous posts made me want to reach out and didn’t, but now I am. Years ago we had a Norwegian Elk Hound. She was very much a family dog and lived to the age of 12. But before we had to send her to puppy heaven, she would sit by the bed at night and pant right in my ear, continually. I would get up with her and take her outside, but that isn’t what she wanted. So I would sit at the kitchen counter and she would fall so sound asleep by my feet that she would snore away. Took me a bit of time but realized what the problem was, she couldn’t hear much anymore and it bothered her to not be able to protect us at night so she wanted me up so she could sleep. Her way of getting us to know that was to continually pant in our face so we would take over… When a dog cares they really care!! Thinking of you with Otto and look forward to your messages.
So glad for you AND Otto, Woody & Boone! Having a vet they all now know who will make a house call is great. More time & less pain & stress is such a relief, I know
I am so happy for more time for you and magnificent Otto. I appreciate you sharing details from your vets visit and observations. We all want to do right by our beloved pets and making this decision is highly unnatural and unbidden for us humans. Observation, assessment and anecdotes from others helps clarify so we can make a good decision for these souls we love so dearly. Thank you Karen.
Always love reading your articles. This one touches my heart! I am a long time dog owner and lover, Have experienced just what you are writing about more occasions than I wanted. I always find another beautiful friend or two to sit at my side because the rewards of their friendship are remarkable. Otto has a true companion and friend. He will be at peace knowing you were there for him. Bless both of you.
My old dog Joey was also in misery because of that awful heat we were suffering through…and while we’re all incredibly grateful the heat has broken, the smoke from the big fires hasn’t. I have to wonder how much the smoke is affecting our dogs’ lungs: when the AQI gurus designate our air as “Unhealthy” or even “Hazardous,” they tell us humans to avoid going outside…but our dogs don’t have that choice.
Many prayers for you and sweet Otto…I know you’ll cherish every second with him.