It didn’t look good. Spot’s accidents in the house turned out to be more than a nuisance – she was sick. Blood in her urine and losing control of her bladder could not be a good sign. At 15+ years old, we knew her time was limited and we had pledged not to resort to any heroics to prolong her life. It was with heavy hearts that we acknowledged we could be facing the end.
The difficult part was waiting. It developed over a weekend, and we wanted to get her in to see her regular vet who had examined her just two months prior and knew her history. So we kept her warm and as comfortable as possible and doted on her. We had to keep her confined to the tiled area in the house, which meant she could not sleep beside our bed at night. I awoke in the morning to find Rich missing from his spot beside me. He had gotten up in the middle of the night, scrounged around for a sleeping bag and laid down with his beloved pet.
We called the kids to let them know and give them warning of what seemed to be a likely outcome. We promised not to do anything until they could come over for their final good-byes, and planned a Skype session with our son in DC so he could “see” Spot one more time. It was pretty grim around our house.
We were able to get in to see the vet first thing Monday morning. Rich and I went together, but he could hardly speak, given his sorrow. The upbeat attitude of the assistants in the office and the professionalism of the vet were somewhat calming, but I wondered if it was false hope. It turns out not! A urinary tract infection seemed the most likely cause of Spot’s woes, and could easily be treated with antibiotics. That didn’t sound like heroics to us, so we agreed to give it a try and left with our bottle of pills.
Miracle medicine we called it. Spot’s system rapidly responded to the treatment. With the help of frequent trips outdoors, her accidents ceased. She lost that haunted look she had been wearing. The appearance of the dog across the street initiated vigorous barking. That’s our old Spot! She also figured out that the additional pills meant more peanut butter – her favorite treat.
We’ve gradually given her greater range in the house, and she’s still enjoying pampered treatment. We’re just glad she’s still with us. Her time wasn’t up after all.