Good Bye to Hazel

Today in Eastern Michigan we are watching the weather closely.  The edges of hurricane Sandy are going to impact us with high winds.  Its 40 degrees with drizzle and the winds are already strong.  I went out a bit ago to fill a big 20 gallon tub with water in the barn in case the power goes out.  I shut the chickens inside but most of the ducks were still out at the pond.  The turkeys are smart enough to stand inside out of the wind.  I worry that our new tarp roof  over the chicken run is going to come off but there is nothing I can do about it. 

 Last Thursday we finally had our 17 year old dog Hazel put down.  It was a very hard decision for us.  She was still eating well but had wasted to skin and bones.  She could not get up on her own and could only walk a little when we got her up.  She was always wetting her bed and although we knew she tried to get up and out to poop she seldom made it.  We would get up with her several times a night as she cried until we did.  Often she just wanted to be lifted up so she could wander aimlessly around for a few minutes. 

On Thursday it was warm and sunny and while I cleaned up the mess she made inside she managed to get outside through the dog door.  I found her sleeping in the sun so I left her there until just before we got ready to take her to the vet.  I wanted them to come here but one vet didn’t do that and the other local vet wanted more than $100 to do it, which we couldn’t afford.  I had made the appointment on Wednesday after Steve and I discussed it for hours. 

We both felt bad but it wasn’t like if we waited that she would get better.  I felt that it wouldn’t be too long before she passed anyway but I also thought she might linger for many days more.  Maybe it was selfish but Steve and I hadn’t had a good nights sleep in weeks because of getting up with her and it was depressing us too. 

I don’t know what dogs think but I had the feeling she was always feeling guilty or sad after she wet the bed or messed on the floor.  She had always been meticulously housebroken until a couple months ago.  She was always so clean, and now she often was dirty, even though I bathed her every few days. I tried to reassure her and never scolded her but it can’t have been comfortable for her.  I had to cut off the “feathers” on her beautiful tail and clip her hindquarters.  Her hair came out in clumps.

I don’t know if she was in pain but she was often confused about where she was and unhappy and crying when she couldn’t do what she wanted.  Hazel was a dog who lived for strict rules and a set routine and tried to get us to live by them too.  She had no control anymore, even of her own body. She would wander aimlessly until she collapsed from weakness but we couldn’t get her to stop or even go where we wanted her to without upsetting her.  She still knew her name most of the time but didn’t seem interested or appreciative of being petted or sweet talked anymore. 

 Steve cooked her the special homemade chicken soup she loved and we fed her bread which she also loved whenever she seemed restless or hungry.  Yet she constantly lost weight and Thursday she weighed 17 pounds, down from an average weight of 35 pounds.

 Bugsy her true love and constant companion also worried over her.  When we made her clean beds on the floor he would come over and try to lie down beside her although we discouraged it because he often ended up lying partly on top of her, squashing her.  When she cried he barked to make sure we knew she needed help.  His devotion did not include passing up her food, which he always tried to finish up for her.

 I was pretty prepared for Thursday.  I wanted her to go out after a pretty good day, which I think she had outside in the sun.  She didn’t like car rides but she was very passive and only cried a bit.  The worse part of the whole thing was that the vet couldn’t find a good vein because her circulation was so bad and they had to try in both legs several times.  I know it hurt her as she squirmed and wimpered a bit but there was no going back then.  He kept trying to make small talk like Hazel would have been over 90 had she been human.  I have always thought comparing dog years and human years is senseless.

 We buried her under a tree in the yard.  Bugsy spent a lot of time looking for her around the house for a few days but he is adjusting now.  He seems a little depressed and his health isn’t so great either but I think he will be ok for a while.

 She is at peace and comfortable now I hope, chasing after sheep and enjoying strength and beauty.