The Cost Of Trying To Save Him
Donación protegida
It all started with him slightly favoring his front left paw. Never once did I ever think I'd be saying goodbye to him exactly 7 weeks later.
I remember when I first met my buddy. My friend rescued him from an animal hoarder. He was only 1-2 months old, emaciated, and eaten up with fleas. I immediately started gushing about him (he's such a wittle puppy!!) and, after he covered me in kisses, decided that my then 3 1/2 year old lab needed a little brother NOW! Plus he was black and white like my Shiloh girl, so it was perfect! Well, my friend claimed him as her own and took him home.
Come spring time, she posted a message on Facebook about rehoming one of her dogs. Come to find out, it was that same sweet, handsome boy I'd met just months earlier!
My then boyfriend wanted a dog of his own, so we set up a play date with my now 4 year old lab. They immediately ran around and played and wrestled like old friends--it was a done deal! The then boyfriend wanted to name him "Maynard" (lame!) I reminded him that since he would be living in my apartment, I would be naming him. I was OBSESSED with a TV show at the time, so he became Dexter, to which he responded to right away.
The then boyfriend and I broke up and I won custody of my sweet boy. He slept right next to me every night from the day he came to his new home. My Dex was such a mama's boy :)
Dexter wasn't really into toys at first, but he eventually became OBSESSED with the red Kong ball I had. All day everyday was fetch with the red ball. Seriously, I'd get up to pee in the middle of the night and when I got back in bed, there he was standing next to the bed, red ball on the bed, and an excited, anticipatory expression on his face. That red ball became his best friend, father figure, mentor, lover, spiritual guide...I decided that anything that my buddy loved that much (and slept in bed with me!) deserved a name...and so the ball became "George."
Dexter loved me so unconditionally and selflessly and all he wanted in return was to play fetch with George. I wish I could undo those times I said no...
I came home from visiting my parents on Sunday 9/14 to find him kind of favoring his front left paw. It looked like a toenail may have broken, causing him pain. I got him some doggie aspirin and wound sealant spray. He seemed ok towards the end of the week, but come the weekend, his back left leg was so swollen.
Monday 9/22 was the 1st visit to the vet. He was 62 pounds and still eating fine. They ran tests to see if he was bit by a tick. The results weren't back and he became swollen everywhere, so Saturday 10/4 was vet visit #2. He had lost a little weight and more antibiotics were prescribed. Wednesday 10/8 I woke up to find that Dexter has vomited all over the bed. I called off work and took him the the 3rd vet visit.
Every single test came back normal. Nothing was wrong with my buddy and it wasn't cancer...so why was he so sick?!
We were referred to an oncology specialist and saw her Friday 10/17. At that point he had lost at least 10 pounds because he wouldn't eat. The doctor took blood work and skin biopsies (he developed weird skin lesions). She was almost positive he had an infection of the hair follicles. More meds and I began gently force feeding him.
A week later my Dexter seemed to be doing better, but come the weekend, he was incontinent and falling. The specialist wanted to see him immediately. I was convinced that I would be saying goodbye to my sweet boy at the 2nd visit with the specialist on Tuesday 10/28. Tears running down my face, I told my Dexter boy that if was too hard...and it was time...I understood... The doctor came in with more/different meds to try. The next day, Wednesday 10/29, he finally voluntarily ate food. That night, he ate so many handfuls of food that I was crying happy tears. He ate some in the morning too, after going pee outside and doing a lap around the apartment, both without falling. He even came to me and pressed his head and body against me. When I went to stand up, he took another step forward, so I cuddled him some more. I thought he was saying "thank you"...
That evening, 10/30, I came home from work and found him on the loveseat in a full on seizure. I rushed him to the emergency vet clinic where he was stabilized. At that point, he was down 20 pounds.
I visited him twice Friday 10/31 (one of which was after midnight after I asked my 14 year sober dad if he would take me because I had drank earlier.) Saturday morning 11/1, the vet tech helped me make a mold of his paw print. Even when he was awake during my visits, he wasn't...there... And lab tests showed his kidneys weren't really working. When I visited again that afternoon, I had my not boyfriend-boyfriend go with me, just in case... His kidneys improved some, but not much. My heart and gut and brain all decided to see how his kidneys were doing in 24 more hours.
Sunday 11/2 I went and visited my sweet boy. That day, just like all my other visits to the hospital to see him, I layed next to him, petting and cuddling and talking to him. The doctor came back with the latest test results...barely any improvement. The doctor confirmed the worst--he wasn't getting better. I immediately called my dad to meet me there at the hospital.
My sweet boy, my Dexter, just barely 3 years old and completely healthy just 7 weeks and 1 day ago, slept through my entire visit that day, and was still snoozing when it was...time... I held him and talked to him as he drifted away.
I like to think that he's playing fetch with the red ball with Jesus now. I miss my buddy so much...
As a social worker, I live paycheck to paycheck. Over the 7 weeks of vet and specialist visits and hospital stays, I've accrued almost $3,500 in bills. I'm getting rid of any unnecessary costs (gym membership, cable, and proactive to name a few.) I'm stubbornly independent, but I don't know how I'm going to afford the extra payments each month. I did everything physically, emotionally, and financially to save my buddy...and I still don't have any answers about why my baby didn't make it...Please help me take care of Dexter's final expenses... The monthly statement is just a terrible reminder that I lost a best friend way too soon...
I remember when I first met my buddy. My friend rescued him from an animal hoarder. He was only 1-2 months old, emaciated, and eaten up with fleas. I immediately started gushing about him (he's such a wittle puppy!!) and, after he covered me in kisses, decided that my then 3 1/2 year old lab needed a little brother NOW! Plus he was black and white like my Shiloh girl, so it was perfect! Well, my friend claimed him as her own and took him home.
Come spring time, she posted a message on Facebook about rehoming one of her dogs. Come to find out, it was that same sweet, handsome boy I'd met just months earlier!
My then boyfriend wanted a dog of his own, so we set up a play date with my now 4 year old lab. They immediately ran around and played and wrestled like old friends--it was a done deal! The then boyfriend wanted to name him "Maynard" (lame!) I reminded him that since he would be living in my apartment, I would be naming him. I was OBSESSED with a TV show at the time, so he became Dexter, to which he responded to right away.
The then boyfriend and I broke up and I won custody of my sweet boy. He slept right next to me every night from the day he came to his new home. My Dex was such a mama's boy :)
Dexter wasn't really into toys at first, but he eventually became OBSESSED with the red Kong ball I had. All day everyday was fetch with the red ball. Seriously, I'd get up to pee in the middle of the night and when I got back in bed, there he was standing next to the bed, red ball on the bed, and an excited, anticipatory expression on his face. That red ball became his best friend, father figure, mentor, lover, spiritual guide...I decided that anything that my buddy loved that much (and slept in bed with me!) deserved a name...and so the ball became "George."
Dexter loved me so unconditionally and selflessly and all he wanted in return was to play fetch with George. I wish I could undo those times I said no...
I came home from visiting my parents on Sunday 9/14 to find him kind of favoring his front left paw. It looked like a toenail may have broken, causing him pain. I got him some doggie aspirin and wound sealant spray. He seemed ok towards the end of the week, but come the weekend, his back left leg was so swollen.
Monday 9/22 was the 1st visit to the vet. He was 62 pounds and still eating fine. They ran tests to see if he was bit by a tick. The results weren't back and he became swollen everywhere, so Saturday 10/4 was vet visit #2. He had lost a little weight and more antibiotics were prescribed. Wednesday 10/8 I woke up to find that Dexter has vomited all over the bed. I called off work and took him the the 3rd vet visit.
Every single test came back normal. Nothing was wrong with my buddy and it wasn't cancer...so why was he so sick?!
We were referred to an oncology specialist and saw her Friday 10/17. At that point he had lost at least 10 pounds because he wouldn't eat. The doctor took blood work and skin biopsies (he developed weird skin lesions). She was almost positive he had an infection of the hair follicles. More meds and I began gently force feeding him.
A week later my Dexter seemed to be doing better, but come the weekend, he was incontinent and falling. The specialist wanted to see him immediately. I was convinced that I would be saying goodbye to my sweet boy at the 2nd visit with the specialist on Tuesday 10/28. Tears running down my face, I told my Dexter boy that if was too hard...and it was time...I understood... The doctor came in with more/different meds to try. The next day, Wednesday 10/29, he finally voluntarily ate food. That night, he ate so many handfuls of food that I was crying happy tears. He ate some in the morning too, after going pee outside and doing a lap around the apartment, both without falling. He even came to me and pressed his head and body against me. When I went to stand up, he took another step forward, so I cuddled him some more. I thought he was saying "thank you"...
That evening, 10/30, I came home from work and found him on the loveseat in a full on seizure. I rushed him to the emergency vet clinic where he was stabilized. At that point, he was down 20 pounds.
I visited him twice Friday 10/31 (one of which was after midnight after I asked my 14 year sober dad if he would take me because I had drank earlier.) Saturday morning 11/1, the vet tech helped me make a mold of his paw print. Even when he was awake during my visits, he wasn't...there... And lab tests showed his kidneys weren't really working. When I visited again that afternoon, I had my not boyfriend-boyfriend go with me, just in case... His kidneys improved some, but not much. My heart and gut and brain all decided to see how his kidneys were doing in 24 more hours.
Sunday 11/2 I went and visited my sweet boy. That day, just like all my other visits to the hospital to see him, I layed next to him, petting and cuddling and talking to him. The doctor came back with the latest test results...barely any improvement. The doctor confirmed the worst--he wasn't getting better. I immediately called my dad to meet me there at the hospital.
My sweet boy, my Dexter, just barely 3 years old and completely healthy just 7 weeks and 1 day ago, slept through my entire visit that day, and was still snoozing when it was...time... I held him and talked to him as he drifted away.
I like to think that he's playing fetch with the red ball with Jesus now. I miss my buddy so much...
As a social worker, I live paycheck to paycheck. Over the 7 weeks of vet and specialist visits and hospital stays, I've accrued almost $3,500 in bills. I'm getting rid of any unnecessary costs (gym membership, cable, and proactive to name a few.) I'm stubbornly independent, but I don't know how I'm going to afford the extra payments each month. I did everything physically, emotionally, and financially to save my buddy...and I still don't have any answers about why my baby didn't make it...Please help me take care of Dexter's final expenses... The monthly statement is just a terrible reminder that I lost a best friend way too soon...
Organizador
Andi Rose
Organizador
Loveland, OH
