Monday, October 26, 2009
Long Hours
Yesterday our beautiful mixed breed Black & Tan Coonhound begged me to take her out at the usual time for the early evening walk. Jayne and I decided to go on a family walk so that we would be back in time for the Yankees playoff game. Once we got to the corner Torre started to behave strangely. She didn't want to go in any direction. She sat and planted herself, all 90 pounds of her. When she doesn't want to move, I call her the furry anvil.
After a minute or two I was able to get her to cross the street and head towards Madison Square Park, a few blocks away and the location of one of her favorite dog runs. She walked past the lamb gyros cart that she always stops at, operated by a very nice pair of brothers who love her and frequently give her a small piece of chicken. She didn't even look at the cart.
Within a minute of arriving at the dog run she threw up, partially digested food, her breakfast from seven hours earlier. All she did after that was stand still. She did not go to the water bowl. We decided to take her home. On the way back she vomited two more times, no food, just bile. Again she walked past the gyros cart.
We decided not to feed her for obvious reasons. Besides, she wouldn't even take a treat from me, a sure sign of illness. This dog always seems to be hungry. We picked up her water dish as well, counter-intuitive, but standard procedure for a dog that can't keep down food. She went into the bathroom and lay on the tile floor.
Normally when a dog has picked up something off the street that does not agree with her she'll throw up and it'll be done with in a matter of hours. If the problem persists, take the poor pooch to the vet the next morning. This is what we figured. We watched the game, occasionally looking in on her. There was no change.
The Yankees clinched the pennant. After the post-game show Torre got up and walked to the kitchen to her water dish. I thought she was starting to feel better and gave her some water. Within a few minutes she vomited again, all water. This was a bad sign and I knew it. So now it was midnight or so. Jayne and I decided that we'd take Torre to the vet first thing in the morning. I went to the corner and got a couple of Village Voice newspapers to spread on the floor in case she needed to throw up again.
It was at this point that her behavior started to really get strange. She refused to lie down and moved around the apartment. One step at a time. She'd take one step and stand, staring blankly, for a minute or so before taking a next step. I had started to doze, but Jayne couldn't sleep, watching Torre's behavior. Jayne woke me up at around 3:00 and showed me what was going on. This was something I had never witnessed in many years of being around dogs. I decided that we couldn't wait until 9:00, and we got dressed and took her out to the corner, looking for a taxi that would take her. Not every taxi driver will take a passenger with a dog, especially a large dog. It was a little after 4:00 by now. The nearest 24 hour emergency vet is not that far from us, but with a 90 pound dog that won't walk it's a great distance.
One of the blessings of being in New York City is the amount of all night services. In Manhattan there are at least three 24 hour emergency vet hospitals. Torre was admitted after a brief intake conversation. They would give her some IV fluids and the main doctors would arrive at around 7:00 or so, do rounds and then do an ultrasound on Torre, probably by 10:00am. We went home and tried to get some rest.
I only had one work obligation today, and I didn't have to be there until 1:00pm. At 10:00, I got up and called the emergency vet hospital. She was just about to get her ultrasound and they would call back soon. Just before 11:00am I got the call. She had a mass in her small intestine. In most cases, I was told, this meant one of three possible cancers. Only rarely would it be benign. I called work and told them I would not be able to come in.
Most of the afternoon was spent speaking with our regular vet and doctors at the emergency vet hospital about possible courses of action. She needed immediate emergency surgery, or she would have to be put to sleep. We were devastated. Torre is like our child. To us this was a bolt out of the blue. Only a day earlier she was chasing and playing in the park like she was shortly out of puppyhood.
We asked the vets if there was any hope. She would have to undergo some scans to see if there were any additional masses. There were none, so we decided to go for the surgery. We were not ready to say goodbye, and we felt that she had a chance to live, hopefully, another year.
A little over two hours ago, the surgeon called. Torre is out of surgery. It was a little more complicated than he thought it would be, but he felt that she could come home in a couple of days.
Torre will not have a long life. We have no illusions about that. But we want to have her last months to be happy and comfortable. It has been a day of tears, and there will be more tears to come. If she needs additional surgeries we will likely have to say goodbye then. We will not put her through a long painful end. Once there is a lack of quality of life, we will have to call it a day. But with a hopeful prognosis for the short run, we will take the time we have. Because that's life, with both animals and people.
After a minute or two I was able to get her to cross the street and head towards Madison Square Park, a few blocks away and the location of one of her favorite dog runs. She walked past the lamb gyros cart that she always stops at, operated by a very nice pair of brothers who love her and frequently give her a small piece of chicken. She didn't even look at the cart.
Within a minute of arriving at the dog run she threw up, partially digested food, her breakfast from seven hours earlier. All she did after that was stand still. She did not go to the water bowl. We decided to take her home. On the way back she vomited two more times, no food, just bile. Again she walked past the gyros cart.
We decided not to feed her for obvious reasons. Besides, she wouldn't even take a treat from me, a sure sign of illness. This dog always seems to be hungry. We picked up her water dish as well, counter-intuitive, but standard procedure for a dog that can't keep down food. She went into the bathroom and lay on the tile floor.
Normally when a dog has picked up something off the street that does not agree with her she'll throw up and it'll be done with in a matter of hours. If the problem persists, take the poor pooch to the vet the next morning. This is what we figured. We watched the game, occasionally looking in on her. There was no change.
The Yankees clinched the pennant. After the post-game show Torre got up and walked to the kitchen to her water dish. I thought she was starting to feel better and gave her some water. Within a few minutes she vomited again, all water. This was a bad sign and I knew it. So now it was midnight or so. Jayne and I decided that we'd take Torre to the vet first thing in the morning. I went to the corner and got a couple of Village Voice newspapers to spread on the floor in case she needed to throw up again.
It was at this point that her behavior started to really get strange. She refused to lie down and moved around the apartment. One step at a time. She'd take one step and stand, staring blankly, for a minute or so before taking a next step. I had started to doze, but Jayne couldn't sleep, watching Torre's behavior. Jayne woke me up at around 3:00 and showed me what was going on. This was something I had never witnessed in many years of being around dogs. I decided that we couldn't wait until 9:00, and we got dressed and took her out to the corner, looking for a taxi that would take her. Not every taxi driver will take a passenger with a dog, especially a large dog. It was a little after 4:00 by now. The nearest 24 hour emergency vet is not that far from us, but with a 90 pound dog that won't walk it's a great distance.
One of the blessings of being in New York City is the amount of all night services. In Manhattan there are at least three 24 hour emergency vet hospitals. Torre was admitted after a brief intake conversation. They would give her some IV fluids and the main doctors would arrive at around 7:00 or so, do rounds and then do an ultrasound on Torre, probably by 10:00am. We went home and tried to get some rest.
I only had one work obligation today, and I didn't have to be there until 1:00pm. At 10:00, I got up and called the emergency vet hospital. She was just about to get her ultrasound and they would call back soon. Just before 11:00am I got the call. She had a mass in her small intestine. In most cases, I was told, this meant one of three possible cancers. Only rarely would it be benign. I called work and told them I would not be able to come in.
Most of the afternoon was spent speaking with our regular vet and doctors at the emergency vet hospital about possible courses of action. She needed immediate emergency surgery, or she would have to be put to sleep. We were devastated. Torre is like our child. To us this was a bolt out of the blue. Only a day earlier she was chasing and playing in the park like she was shortly out of puppyhood.
We asked the vets if there was any hope. She would have to undergo some scans to see if there were any additional masses. There were none, so we decided to go for the surgery. We were not ready to say goodbye, and we felt that she had a chance to live, hopefully, another year.
A little over two hours ago, the surgeon called. Torre is out of surgery. It was a little more complicated than he thought it would be, but he felt that she could come home in a couple of days.
Torre will not have a long life. We have no illusions about that. But we want to have her last months to be happy and comfortable. It has been a day of tears, and there will be more tears to come. If she needs additional surgeries we will likely have to say goodbye then. We will not put her through a long painful end. Once there is a lack of quality of life, we will have to call it a day. But with a hopeful prognosis for the short run, we will take the time we have. Because that's life, with both animals and people.
