Last day of natures year.

On Thursday when Steve went to the barn, he found Sarah, our old Jack Russell wasn’t doing well. Of all our dogs only 4 still live in kennels. Sarah shared a huge kennel with Bubba, the easy going cocker, who was willing to submit to her authority rather than with the other two kennel Jacks. But Sarah is at least 15 and has been suffering on and off from some kind of mouth problem, her teeth became vastly overgrown, with the incisors down outside her mouth. She had two dental cleanings and several rounds of antibiotics but the problem still smoldered. I think it is some sort of cancer, our old vet just shrugged and said maybe. I had noticed Sarah was increasingly weaker, we had been giving her soft food and coaxing her to eat.

On Thursday she was so weak she stumbled and wobbled and Steve brought her inside to a warm room. We gave her a box with low sides and a soft blanket over a heating pad and she appeared very grateful. She has been there since, she will get out from time to time, she drinks and we have been able to get her to eat one thing- hot dogs. Nothing else, canned food, scrambled eggs, bacon, broth, - just hot dogs cut into little pieces.

She is incontinent and I have to change her bed several times a day. She doesn’t seem to be in a lot of pain although that is hard to tell. She may have had a stroke, or maybe the mouth problem moved into her ears and causes the balance problem, but she is very uncoordinated in her movements when she does get out of the box.

When I went in before bed last night I got her up to change her bed and she stood long enough to drink and even shook herself and wagged her tail. I helped her get back into her bed and she wanted me to rub her face so I did, it doesn’t feel swollen but there is one small hard lump on her jaw. She liked to have her face rubbed before she got the mouth problem so it is hard to say whether or not it is bothering her. She eagerly ate the hot dog I brought her.

This morning I went to try to get her to eat and she was laying in her box deep in sleep, she didn’t move as I came in the door although I could see her breathing. When I touched her she looked at me, and stretched a little, then went back to sleep. At breakfast we had discussed whether to bring her to the vet to be put to sleep and decided that if she didn’t appear to be in pain we would let her die peacefully at home instead of subjecting her to the stress of the car and vet. I’d rather have her die in a warm bed than on a cold table.

I sat by her and watched her sleep, her breathing was deep and even and she appeared to be very comfortable. I am hoping she slips away, peacefully in her sleep. She responds if you touch her but she seems just to want to sleep, weary unto death. I left her alone, warm and peaceful, so my presence doesn’t make her try to stay, so she can go peacefully.
That country song, “I was almost home” plays in my head. Hopefully Sarah is remembering all the good days, hunting, playing, nursing babies, being stroked and petted, eating the good stuff, splashing in the pond, and lying in the warm sun. It’s the shortest day of the year, the end of natures year, a fitting day to end a good life. I hope she dreams herself peacefully away, the way I want to die, in my own bed.