I've been preoccupied with our girl Pansy. She's been stricken with kidney disease, which we found out after a long process of missteps and misdeeds in February. We took her to a new vet in March after the local SPCA took weeks to get back to me with abnormal blood results.
So since then, Pete has to give her fluids (normal saline + vitamin B) under her skin every other day or so. It takes about 5 minutes to get the right amount in...injecting in two places (scruff of her neck and back by her hips). She is SO GOOD for it. I'm convinced she knows it is to help her. The first evening Pete sat down with her to do it, he pulled the needle out and Pansy licked his face. She's been on a special diet with very low protein as well.
We had her blood checked again after a few weeks and her number had gone up from 4.2 to 6.5. We doubled her fluid intake. Personality-wise, she stayed the same: energetic and adorable and nutty as ever. A little over a week ago we had her blood checked again. She had lost 2 lbs and her number went up to 7.3, which is off the charts. She is now only 36 lbs (she was probably close to 45 lbs when she first arrived here). The vet and we were baffled at her energy level, given her number. So it was easy to function in this state of pseudo-denial. She was still our stubborn, squirrel-chasing, barking little girl. She's had a normal appetite and had been peeing and drinking normally.
Well, we had a bit of a reality check Sunday morning on Pansy's health. She was moving really slow. Pete, who has been with Pansy since she was born under his bed in Greece, took her and her brother Tyson out for their walk. He came back in minutes, completely broken up because she was walking like an old, sick dog and the realization that she is truly ill just hit him square in the face, you know? He was a wreck. It was made worse by the fact that he hadn't calculated how fast we'd run out of her fluids since we had upped her to 200ml a day. We were out, and our vet was closed. We called all over. He was beating himself up over it, even though logically we knew missing two days of the sub-q was not going to make such a difference. I went to a drugstore and bought Pedialyte to put in her water bowls (that we have all over the house). An (originally) online friend came to the rescue with a bag of sodium chloride in the middle of the day (she fosters animals) and brought us some great relief. The other thing we discovered is what I suspected: our local vet is totally ripping us off with what they charge for the IV bags. Sigh. Pansy perked up a bit more throughout the day and (hopefully) wondered if the cold, damp weather doesn't bother her some.
We've been in denial, though, both of us. We don't want to see her as an ill dog. We don't want to see her ill. Pansy stopped eating Sunday and has not eaten since. She wouldn't even take a piece of salami or cheese (her favorites).
I felt so helpless and upset, and I turned that into anger and rage against our vet, focusing on the high price of the fluids. I worked myself into a frenzy looking for a new vet yesterday morning. I was desperate to throw things at this problem because there is no way to fix it and I'm not built to handle that. All we can do is love her and cry and I hate it.
We took her back to see the vet yesterday. Pete was straight with the Dr. about how we could get the bags of fluid much cheaper elsewhere, so either sell them to us for that price or give us the script so we could shop around. She (smartly) agreed to the lower price (MUCH lower, by the way). She examined Pansy and said she had no signs of liver damage (eyes not yellow, no fever), but that basically her numbers caught up with her. I asked if she was in pain, and the Dr. said no, she didn't seem to be. The vet also said the fluids would sustain her for now, but we are giving her antacids again (forcing them down) in the hopes that it will bring down the phosphorous levels and help her feel like eating again.
Last night she stayed in the living room (her and her brother normally have a routine of going into the basement for the night when we go to bed...there's couches and rugs down there). She didn't want to do the stairs. I think we were both surprised to see her this morning. She had had some accidents on the floor (her bowels are in bad shape), but was alert. She surprised us again by getting up onto the couch by herself. Pete gave her more fluids...more than she's had in one sitting before...and her body was sucking it right in. Normally a lump forms, but not today.
Right now she's in the garden out back. She seems to want to be out there more because of her unsteady bowels than for our anthropomorphic reasons, if you know what I mean. We seem to just be waiting. Waiting for her to go on her own terms or to let us know she's had enough. I believe we will know. I also believe she is stubborn enough to want to do this on her own terms.
Our little Poozy girl. She's only seven years old. She's lived in Greece, France, and America. I fell in love with her instantly 4 years ago and have only fallen for her harder since. Her independent streak makes me smile.
I will miss her forever when she goes.
