SAD

We just got home from picking Dempsey up from the vet. He had to be sedated today to get more x-rays and a biopsy done. $350 later, we brought our dog home with the diagnosis of canine lymphoma. In short, our beloved boxer dog Dempsey has cancer.

Our vet said our only options at this point are:

A) take him to the U of I vet school and spend $4,000 - $5,000 in chemotherapy that may or may not work, and could possibly actually shorten his life.

B) continue to give him prednisone and the cough suppressant that he has been getting and let nature run its course until his quality of life becomes an issue.

We chose to do that latter. Our veterinarian said that if was hard to tell how much time he had left because the tumor has been so fast growing, yet seems to have been temporarily slowed by the meds he has gotten the past few days. She estimates anywhere from a month to a year, though a year was the absolute best we could hope for.

Dempsey has been with Chris and me since our first anniversary. He has lived in all three of the houses we have owned, and was there when we brought both our children home from the hospital. He sleeps in his dog bed on the floor next to my side of the bed every night. Every day when we come home, even if we have only been gone a short period of time, he still wags his entire backside for us because he is so happy to see us. He is obedient and smart and loyal and I can't believe he's dying.

Today I am sad.

Aleita & Dempsey -- Aleita had just come home from the hospital after having her tonsils removed. Dempsey seemed to sense that she needed him. In this picture, she is watching TV while using him as a pillow.

Dempsey

Aleita & Dempsey, January 2008

I'm worried about Dempsey. Our beloved boxer dog will be ten at the end of this month, and his health has taken a serious turn for the worse lately. He has a bad case of bronchitis that he just can't seem to shake. He has had two vet visits and a few different kinds of pills, yet his cough and wheezing continue to get worse. When he tries to bark, all that comes out is a gaspy ruff. He forever sounds like he is trying to hack up a fur ball because of his constant coughing and gagging. After running across the yard, he sounds like an old man with late stage emphysema who has just climbed a flight of stairs (for those MTA folks reading, you will immediately think of Mr. Merriman, I'm sure.)

Dempsey is still very active and is eating well, so that is good. The day that he doesn't want to run and chase his ball in the yard will be the telltale sign for me that things are going to seriously go downhill. I have never known a dog that loved to chase a ball that way that one does. When he was a pup, he would play until your arm was tired and you refused to throw the ball anymore. As an old dog, he will chase it several times, then lay down for a rest....but after a few minutes, he brings the ball back, ready for more. He still gobbles up his food each morning and evening, and is more than happy to clean up any wayward food that falls off the table during dinner. For this, I am grateful. But though his activity is high and eating is fine, his bronchial symptoms continue to worsen.

Chris and I actually had "the talk" that I have been dreading this morning: at what point do you decide that you have to put on the brakes and say, "enough is enough" when it comes to vet treatment? When do you resolve that you just can't spend any more money in medical care for your much loved animal companion? I know that some people would say that there is no price too high for ensuring that a pet has any medical treatment in order to extend its life as long as possible (so long as the animal was not in pain, of course....though I am sure there are people who would keep an animal alive who was hurting for the selfish reason of not wanting to let it go yet.) I actually know someone right now who is paying a few thousand dollars for chemo treatments for their dog. However, we both agreed that we are not willing to go into debt to provide care for an animal that may not even be successful. We will do what we can, within reason, but can't justify spending tremendous amounts of money for an aging animal without any guarantees of success.

To top things off, in the past few months, we have spent about $1,100 in bills for Dempsey. He had two dental surgeries that amounted to about $900, and his treatments for his bronchitis have been about $200 so far, just for vet visits and medicine. The next step will be Xrays and then God-only-knows-what. I have tried to explain to Dempsey that for what he has cost us the past few months, he at least owes us another few years. He hacks at me in return.

This morning as I was getting ready for work in my bedroom, Maggie was sitting on the floor petting Dempsey. He was wheezing and gagging, and she said to me, "Dempsey doesn't feel very good, does he?" I said, "no sweetie, he doesn't." She then asked, "when is he going to get better?" I truthfully said, "I don't know, Maggie. I hope soon, but he may not get better either." We then talked for a little bit about the fact that Dempsey was sick and didn't seem to be getting any better, and that the medicine the doctor gave him doesn't seem to be helping. She looked at me morosely, and said, "Is Dempsey going to die?" I told her that I didn't know, and that I hoped not, but only God knew that for sure. She looked a little dejected, but didn't say anything and just continued to pet Dempsey. I then walked in the bathroom to continue getting ready.

I ran the blow dryer on my hair for a few minutes, then when I turned it off, I heard her talking softly from the bedroom. "Are you talking to me?" I asked her. "No," she replied, "I'm talking to God. I'm asking him to get Dempsey better." Talk about a lump in my throat.....

I hope God's not too busy today to hear a few prayers about an old dog that one family isn't ready to let go of just yet.

EVERYTHING'S UNDER CONTROL

This morning as I was taking Maggie to school, we pulled up to a stoplight next to one of the Macon County Animal Control vans. Maggie sat there studying it for a moment, then asked what an Animal Control van did. I told her the people who worked for animal control helped by taking care of the animals that were loose - - I gave her the example that if someone lost their dog, Animal Control might pick it up and help it find its owner. I also explained that if an animal was threatening or could hurt someone, they would help take care of that too.

She asked what would happen to an animal that was being mean. I told her that they would pick it up and try to see if it had an owner, but a lot of times, they end up having to kill those kind of animals so they won’t hurt anyone. She then asked, “How do they kill them?” I told her that it doesn’t hurt them - - they just give them some medicine that makes them go to sleep and then they never wake up, so they die. I told her that it’s very peaceful. Maggie pondered this for a moment and said, “Kind of like Grandma Lillian, right?! Except they didn’t pick her up in the van first.”

I had to stifle a laugh as I said, “well, not exactly like that, Mag.”