Trapper

I'm ready for another stick, Mom!

Mom Julie here and I'm in tears as I write this. My doggie, my precious boy is gone.

I keep going over things in my mind, replaying the events that led to his passing and I wish I could have changed everything. He had a seizure around six o'clock last evening, his very first and I, not knowing what to do, stayed by his side, comforting him, talking to him. It lasted only a few minutes, I'm sure, but seemed like it would never end. I took him to the emergency clinic a half hour away. He sat in the back seat, by this time back to normal, but I wanted to be sure.


We arrived, he was bouncy and fine, wagging his tail at everyone and running around the emergency lobby like we were there for a good time. The doctor explained that older dogs do get seizures and it could be a number of different things prompting them. I said I would take him to the vet first thing in the morning. After we talked he was still fine, acted great and I even walked him around outside a little bit just to make sure. We had agreed if he had one during the night, I would bring him back in.


I was on my way home, almost to the house, when he was hit by another seizure. I was alone, driving and all I could think of was to get him back to the clinic as soon as I could. Holding his collar and talking to him, I drove, but they kept coming, and coming. He didn't stop shaking on the back seat floor and when we arrived again, two women came out to help me with him. They carried him in, shaking still. All I wanted to do was be with him. When I went in the back, they were trying to resuscitate him.


I never prayed so hard in my life. One of those times when you promise the Good Lord anything, anything at all, shortening my own life if he had to, just to bring my baby back. They came out to tell me they were not having any luck and asked if they should continue. It broke my heart to tell them no.


Just today I added a graphic to the sidebar because I was having trouble finding a candle so we could pay tribute to all our angels, so I used a beautiful one with all the cats and dogs in it. Little did I know that my baby was going to be one of them. He had just turned 10 in March.


I hope he finds plenty of friends. He had countless numbers of them here on Earth. He never met a stranger, and I'm glad I had the time with him I did, nine years of love and sharing his life with kitties.


Should I have them do an autopsy to find out what was wrong? Or, should I just let the heartbreak rest? I don't know what to do, and I can't sleep.


--Mom Julie

**UPDATE** Thank you all so much for your comforting words. I finally did get some rest, but not very much. I was still up at 6, ready to start the day, and all without my big, golden boy by my side.

I decided not to do the necropsy. This afternoon, when I went to pick him up from the emergency clinic, I had a chance to really talk to the doctor. I was happy to find the same vet who received him last night, there today. She said sometime between the car and the building, while he was being carried, his heart stopped. When I saw him, he was being given chest compressions and had a tube in his mouth and an IV.  No matter what they did, he couldn't be revived.

Last night, of course, I couldn't think straight, today, not really, either. But, I had done a lot of sorting out in my sleeplessness and I can recall his being more clingy than usual, unsure of himself after dark--all signs of aging, I thought. The seizures she felt, since he was an older dog, could only be an indication of something far more serious, probably a tumor.

I picked him up and took him to the Animal Welfare Society, a shelter where I adopted Tom, Mitty and Anastasia. They do cremations and all money goes to the shelter. I know Trapper would have wanted it that way. As we're heading down I-95 south to Kennebunk, the whole time, I talked to my boy. I had laid down the passenger seat back to make it flat and had the doctor put him, all wrapped in black plastic next to me. My hand rested on his sweet head as I drove down. This gave me some of the closure I desperately needed.

I think I might sleep tonight, but I'm not sure, really. The kitties know something is terribly wrong. They want to attach themselves to me in every possible way, and, of course, they're getting more hugs and kisses than usual.

I can't thank you all enough for your comforting words, support and shared tears. It means so much to me. 
--Julie