He had not been well for about five weeks. I took him to the vet twice before I left to visit my son, but there was nothing that she could pin down. They did the panel tests for senior dogs, valley fever, diabetes, and on and on and on. He was put on several medications and an antibiotic. Nothing seemed to help, though he would rally for a few days. I was ready to cancel my trip to Iowa, but my husband and stepson assured me that they would take care of him.
One day into my trip, my husband was taking George to the emergency vet...he was blind. After an overnight stay, George came home. They did more tests and only thing that they noticed was a growth on his spleen. Maybe it was cancer. Nothing really changed, but he was a little slower and would only eat about a half cup of chicken a day.
I cut my trip short by a few days and started home. Somewhere in Utah, my husband called and said that George was not eating and he was taking him back to the vet. I did 850 miles that day, trying to make it home in two and half days.
As soon as I got home, I could see that George was much, much worse than before. At this point, he was covered with small bumps. The cancer had spread throughout his body. I spent the day on the floor, being as close as I could. We went outside and sat in the sun. We laid on the floor some more. It was time to make the hard decision and give George the dignity that he deserved. I called the vet and asked if they could come to my home. In general they do not make house calls, but George was still over 80 pounds and he growled every time he was lifted into the car. Also, Dr. Sue had been George's doctor since he was eight weeks old. She came to the house. I will be forever grateful for that. We laid on the lawn, feeling the wind on our faces. He had been by my side for eight years. I would stay with him until the end.
I have cried for three days. I know that the pain will ease, but right now, I'm so very, very sad.
Be kind to one another.