This morning, around 1:30AM, my wife woke me up and thrust her iPhone into my face. “Look at this poop,” she actually really said. And there, on the screen — viewed blearily and gauzily through my sleep-shellacked eyes — was indeed a pile of canine diarrhea in the grass.
However, that word — “pile” — is notable here, because up until recently, what came out of our taco terrier’s Other End could best be described as “gray water.” And it’s been going on for months. Tai has IBD/colitis and maybe, just maybe, cancer. (Diagnostics on this are uncertain, and further tests would run us about two grand, and would tell us little as we would have no intention of running this almost-12-year-old dog through the rigors of chemo.) Her lower intestine was severely swollen and any attempts to do an end-run around the IBD with various novel proteins or special foods have failed. Worse, it’s been too little too late as the dog has been losing a lot of weight and vitality.
So much so that today we have, or rather, had, her on the schedule to be put to sleep.
We’ve now changed that appointment.
I know, it’s gross talking about DOG MESS, but last night her, erm, leavings looked genuinely improved after months of nothing. And this morning she went again, and that looked good, too. (“Good” being relative — I mean, it’s not ice cream we’re talking about.) Further, she had a bit more pep in her step today, and even (eagerly, without urging) climbed up the steps to join me in my office for the morning ritual of Both Dogs Conglomerating Around Me As I Work And Occasionally Ruining The Air Quality With A Foulness That Would Gag A Slaughterhouse Worker.
Our pup will not be put to sleep today. We moved the appointment to Tuesday (still at our home) to give her a few more days. Our last ditch effort was something I found online, not something vets had told me (and no, it’s not “collodial silver” or whatever other wizard reagents you might suggest). Some folks reported that the drug Atopica worked wonders with uncontrolled IBD, and curiously, Atopica had been a miracle drug for us and our little pooch before — early in her life, she basically had a list of skin allergies as long as Gandalf’s beard, and she was tearing herself apart. Atopica cut her allergies off at the knees and gave her a fairly normal life as a result — so, we’ve ramped up the Atopica once more. I put her on it last week, and it can take a week to show its effects. Hopefully what we’re seeing here is a glimpse of those effects.
Truthfully, this is probably still going where it’s always been going. And we wrestled with the decision of whether or not to prolong this for her — there comes a point when this gets cruel for the poor little dog. (And if she really takes a hard dip, we have an emergency vet nearby which can handle the very unpleasant task.) But at the same time, she seems a bit happier this morning, and she ate food last night (a miracle unto itself), and it feels like we can afford a few more days to see if this down-to-the-last-seconds-Hail-Mary actually does something. If it doesn’t, then Tuesday comes and she still goes, and that will be a very hard, very sad day.
But for this day, at least, our little taco terrier is still with us.
christawojo says:
So sorry to hear about your doggy. I lost my dog, Roscoe, this time last year and I’m still crying. He was twelve when he passed away. He drowned in my arms from congestive heart failure. Even though he was old for a big dog, it didn’t make it any easier. I hope your pup gets better 🙁 It’s so hard to let them go, but it’s even harder to watch them endure a miserable illness. There so brave about it and somehow it makes it worse.
October 17, 2014 — 9:32 AM
Olivia Kelly says:
Oh, good luck, I’ll be sending positive thoughts for the pup! I know how hard this choice is. I was there with my childhood pet, my greyhound Lexie, when they put her to sleep. She had bone cancer, and it went downhill so rapidly, none of were prepared. But I held her head in my lap and stared into her eyes until she was gone, because that’s what you do for family you love. You guys are making the best choices you can in a crap situation. *hugs*
October 17, 2014 — 9:33 AM
Andy Cowley says:
Hang in there little taco terrier, get better.
October 17, 2014 — 9:34 AM
Janet O'Kane says:
However this turns out – and I hope Tai does continue to improve – she is a lucky dog to have owners who love and care for her as well as you and your family do.
October 17, 2014 — 9:34 AM
emilywenstrom says:
Ugh, that’s so difficult. I can only imagine the mess I’d be if I were going through that with my own pup. Wishing her some happy and comfortable last days, and a peaceful goodbye.
October 17, 2014 — 9:35 AM
Peter Hicks (@UppityTeapot) says:
My very best wishes and thoughts for you, your family, and of course the taco terrier. I’m guessing Bdub is too young to understand all this yet?
October 17, 2014 — 9:35 AM
jenzeman06 says:
*fingers crossed* But it is SO tough making the final decision. If you impaled yourself through the heart with a rusty bayonette, it would feel better than making this decision and going through it. What made it a little more tolerable for me was knowing I was probably helping my little guy by putting him to sleep. His quality of life had tanked, and although at 14 his mind was sharp as a puppy, his body just gave up on him. ((hugs))
October 17, 2014 — 9:36 AM
Jen Sako says:
Bittersweet news about little taco terrier and family. Bless his little heart.
October 17, 2014 — 9:38 AM
Catastrophe Jones says:
Love to you, Wendig. And your tacoterrier. Wishing you the best, in whatever comes.
October 17, 2014 — 9:38 AM
R. Dale Guthrie says:
Good luck, little Tai.
October 17, 2014 — 9:40 AM
girlusinterruptus says:
whoo hoo for the good poop! It’s always a hard journey as our pets get older. I have a cat that has what I would certainly qualify as poops from hell which practically drive us from the house. Since I have colitis myself, I’ve said for years with some certainty it’s probably colitis. We give her 3 milligrams of Prilosec every other day and that keeps a lot of it at bay. Thanks for posting this as any anecdotal info is always good for other dog owners to hear… so much of it is trial and error. Makes sense that your pooch had allergies as colitis is a systemic allergic reaction in the body.
Hang in there. Your pooch appreciates your dedication to her poop!
October 17, 2014 — 9:42 AM
Felipe Adan Lerma says:
All the best, Chuck. We’ve had similar with cats. Always painful making these pet-parent decisions. Hope she keeps improving.
October 17, 2014 — 9:44 AM
Tymber Dalton says:
((HUGS)) We’ve had to make the hard decision with our furbabies several times. It sucks, and we always try, like you, to weigh their quality of life against the realities. Here’s hoping it helps and you can delay again. <3
October 17, 2014 — 9:45 AM
Nick Nafpliotis (@NickNafster79) says:
This is really good news, even if it only means a few more days with your little guy around. I’ll still be hoping and praying for you that this isn’t just a reprieve, but the start of a turnaround.
October 17, 2014 — 9:45 AM
Lisa Nicholas says:
I had to make that same call for my beloved golden retriever Maddie just last week. Fucking canine cancer. 🙁 Thinking of you guys and sending Tai lots of snuggles.
October 17, 2014 — 9:46 AM
Sarah Bewley says:
YAY! You’re doing the right thing. A few more days will let you know. I send you and the taco terrier many good vibes.
October 17, 2014 — 9:47 AM
aileenmiles says:
Dog owners really understand the importance of a good poop 🙂 I’m so happy to hear she’s improving.
October 17, 2014 — 9:47 AM
terribleminds says:
Parents, too. Man, having a kid and two dogs I’m amazed at how much of my life has to do with poop.
October 17, 2014 — 9:50 AM
tambo says:
That’s awesome! I’ll keep keeping fingers crossed!
October 17, 2014 — 9:50 AM
romeorites says:
I hope your pup will be ok. Autoimmune diseases are very nasty, especially IBD. My wife has Crohns disease and has been very poorly over the years with it. Its always difficult when our animals get poorly, and you really do have my sympathies and I really do hope that the Atopica works. From my understanding Atopica is sort of the animal equivalent to cyclosporine, and from the research I have done it does have a fairly high success rate. Best of luck and I hope your pup makes a speedy recovery 🙂
October 17, 2014 — 9:51 AM
dianadiehl1 says:
Atopica IS cyclosporine. Just be careful to handle it with gloves and wash your hands afterwards. Your vet probably told you that. ~ A retired vet
October 17, 2014 — 10:40 AM
Michelle Hunt says:
I am so sorry that your doggy is not doing well. You are doing the best you can for her, so keep doing it. If you need to let her go on Tuesday, it will be sad, but it may be the best thing you can do for her if she is no longer enjoying life. (I don’t know about your dog’s previous attitude toward food, but mine would have to be truly at death’s door not to eat.) I hope this is the beginning of a turnaround, but even if it isn’t, you get a little more time with her, which in itself if a great thing.
October 17, 2014 — 9:51 AM
Justine says:
That’s how my sweet Dulcie was when I had to put her down in June. The vet said she was probably eating because *I* wanted her to, not because she wanted to (or was hungry), particularly with the large growth she had in her gumline. My hairy baby lived to 15, though, so I can’t complain. She was a wonderfully faithful dog, as I’m sure your TT is. Best wishes whatever may come.
As an aside, I had a photographer friend take pictures of Dulcie and me the day before I put her to sleep and I’m ever so grateful I did so. Regardless of what happens, be sure to snap some good pics of the little TT with you guys. You’ll treasure those images always.
October 17, 2014 — 11:37 PM
Maia says:
That face! What a sweet girl. I had to say goodbye to my dear dog of almost thirteen years two weeks ago, so I know how wrenching it is. Sending good thoughts to your two and four legged family.
October 17, 2014 — 9:54 AM
Pavowski says:
Sympathies. Sometimes the right thing is the hardest thing to do for a suffering pet.
October 17, 2014 — 9:55 AM
Peter B. says:
Best of luck, Chuck. On two separate occasions our dog deteriorated to the point where we thought we’d have two put him down. Both times, he snapped back for no discernible reason. We finally had to put him down this summer. Never an easy decision.
October 17, 2014 — 10:00 AM
Karen says:
((Hugs)) One of the hardest parts of being a responsible & loving pet owner is making the decision not to let your pet suffer. Two years ago, my beast (who was born without hip joints & sports a mighty fine pair of steel hips thanks to Tufts) started having back/hip problems. It reached the point where he couldnt stand on his own & was in unbearable pain. We thought we were going to have to make that decision. Instead our vet threw us a hail Mary & suggested Amantadine, an experimental drug on dogs. It took a month to see improvement. Then one day he hauled himself to his feet by himself. Over the next 4 mos he regained full mobility. Now hes only occasionally in pain & youd never know there was a problem. I hope meds do the same for your fellow.
October 17, 2014 — 10:03 AM
Alicia F says:
You will know when the time comes. Lovely to have the doggle with you for another couple of days at least. Enjoy it.
October 17, 2014 — 10:09 AM
Ashley says:
My sister had to put her dog of 9 years down on Saturday. He had been slowing down and not eating much. He also was losing weight but he had always been skinny. They took him to the vet on Friday and they found that he had a tumor that was pushing his intestines and stomach out of the way, which is why he wasn’t eating. The vet said that the tumor was close to rupturing and that would be a very painful death for him if that happened, so they opted to take him home for one more night and then put him down the next morning. It hit me hard because whenever they go out of town, I was always the one to sleep over at their house and watch Frank (the one who passed) and Samson, their other dog.
I’m sorry you’re going through trouble too. Just know that she will be free of pain whichever way it ends up going.
October 17, 2014 — 10:09 AM
Ruth Dupré says:
Some of the best pet-related advice ever given me was– they will tell you when it’s time to go. I had an old cocker (belonged to one of my kids but we inherited her) who was blind, deaf and had dementia– but she loved going out and sniffing her sniffs. Still happy. Then one day she didn’t want to go, and I knew that was it. When it’s time for your taco terrier to go, you’ll know. ‘Til then, enjoy the reprieve.
October 17, 2014 — 10:13 AM
Kay Camden says:
Ruth, you are so right. I took my beloved cat home after receiving really bad news at the vet office. Putting him down that day just felt wrong. Months later, he looked at me one day, and I saw something in his eyes I’ll never forget: it was time.
That cat was my best friend, and I’m still choking up about it almost 3 years later. Death sucks.
Hang in there, Chuck. We had our sweet old Great Pyrenees rescue put down in her favorite sleeping spot in front of the fridge. At home is the best arrangement. It still sucks, but a tiny sliver of sadness is shaved off knowing they just went to sleep at home in their favorite spot and not some stainless steel table. I’m lucky to have a vet in the family. 🙂
Having my father die was an unspeakable horror. But there’s such a specific way animals rip out your heart when they go. It’s different than when people die, and I’m not sure why.
October 17, 2014 — 11:43 AM
Judy Eddy says:
Good luck to you and the taco terrier. Such a sweet face! Prayers and happy wishes for all of you.
October 17, 2014 — 10:15 AM
Beth Bishop says:
Last May, I had to have my 18 year-old cat put to sleep. I kept asking myself if there was anything else I could’ve done or if I waited too long and prolonged his suffering. The vet told me that it’s the kindest thing you can do for an animal, one who has been like your child, when they are suffering, old and frail. Don’t beat yourself up about it and know that you gave that little doggy an awesome, loving home and family.
October 17, 2014 — 10:24 AM
Patti says:
Form the photo I see your taco terrier has such a regal look – if this is a Hail Mary and for some reason the inevitable comes down, remember what an honor it is to be the voice for our furry friends (and family) who can’t speak up for themselves.
And I agree with Ruth, enjoy the reprieve…there are moments in the end times that will stay with us until our own ends…blessings from the Universe.
Stay strong.
October 17, 2014 — 10:26 AM
Karen Frisch says:
You will know when. I’ve been there several times with my beloved dogs. It’s never easy, but the love exchange makes it worth it. Do not feel guilty. Your dog relies on you to take the best care of her, no matter what the circumstances. And when you’re ready again – visit a shelter. Praying for you all.
October 17, 2014 — 10:27 AM
Johnna Dub says:
Wow, that’s the most honest account of what animal guardians go through, when their furry family member experiences illness. I’m sending out well wishes for you and yours. Thank you for writing about something that is so personal, and completely relatable.
October 17, 2014 — 10:35 AM
Lynn Johnston says:
I’m thinking good poop thoughts for your doggie, and hope the atopica helps her heal fee intestinal affliction.
October 17, 2014 — 10:38 AM
dianadiehl1 says:
As a veterinarian (retired), my heart breaks just a little bit more for every pet and every pet’s human that goes through this. It is hard to set a date. I am glad you are flexible and allow your little friend some extra time to enjoy some deserved improvements and get in some extra love. Quality of life can be a hard thing to judge, especially with auto-immune diseases that come and go in waves, even with the most effective medication. Whatever and whenever you choose for your taco terrier’s final days, know that you’ve acted from love, balancing what is the best quality of life for you all.
October 17, 2014 — 10:47 AM
Drew says:
Had almost the same experience today. Our 12 year old greyhound buttsploaded all over the house in the middle of the night, but we were in a good mood steam-cleaning carpets pre-dawn because her energy level seemed fine, she’d clearly made an attempt to go in non-carpeted locations, and she was eating/drinking normally.
Having an old dog in the house really changes poop reactions.
October 17, 2014 — 11:06 AM
Paul Baxter says:
“I’ve stopped believing in happy endings. I’ve started believing in good days.” – Drew Barrymore
I hope Taco has a good day today.
October 17, 2014 — 11:11 AM
planetgrace says:
I love that. Thank you.
October 17, 2014 — 12:40 PM
Denise McInerney says:
I’m so sorry to hear about your pup, Tai. We recently lost two border collies within six months of each other, one to uncontrollable seizures and the other to a sudden, out-of-the-blue aneurysm. The decision was taken out of our hands with these two. But in the past, we’ve also had to make the kind of gut-wrenching decisions you are faced with and I know how very hard and painful that is. Some people say “you will know when it’s time” but we have not always found this to be true. Sometimes quality of life can be very hard to judge. But I’m sure Tai trusts in your love and knows that you will make the very best decision for her when the time comes.
And in the meantime, hopefully this medication will buy all of you some quality time to build more precious memories. Oh, and I’m totally with you on the “poop” thing! We recently adopted three new border collies and seem to spend an inordinate amount of time and attention to monitoring quality and quantity of poop! Hugs and positive energy to you and Tai.
October 17, 2014 — 11:14 AM
williamallenpepper says:
Pets are such amazing companions who seek nothing but companionship and offer loyalty and trust in return. These decisions are hard. Enjoy the days you have, however many they end up being.
October 17, 2014 — 11:19 AM
Eleanore D. Trupkiewicz says:
Sending thoughts and prayers — people who don’t keep pets, or who don’t really hold pets dear, won’t understand your choices, but those of us who’ve been there get it, believe me. I’m hoping for the best.
October 17, 2014 — 11:25 AM
Erika Hayes says:
Knowing that loss is near can intensify the pain. When my beloved Dixie Sue was battling doggie breast cancer, I watched as her usual prim prance evolved into a sad sloth-like trudge. Her bright eyes slowly dulled. Her pep pooped out. I remember when her day had finally come, and I knew it. I was heart broken. She knew too. She crawled into my lap and I believe if she could have spoken would have asked me how much longer until she could go. I told her between the chest-burning sobs “go, just go”. She laid her head down and went. Her life improved mine. Dixie was as you can imagine with a name like Dixie a little spark in a sometimes dark world. I know hearing about others losing their beloved companions cannot take away the sorrow. Sometimes, it is good to know others have walked the path and though our feet get cut our arms and legs battered, we come out, eventually, okay further down the line. My heart gushes sympathy for you today. I will say there are still hard days when I think about her. However, it was her sweet little face with a button nose and lively eyes that I try to hold onto, because that is the her I want to remember. I pray that the medicine will allow your little pooch a reprieve from the pain and you are blessed with more time. Thank you for sharing with us.
October 17, 2014 — 11:27 AM
Kirsten Hess says:
Oh boy, thinking of you all, thanks for sharing with us. Sorry we pulled you away last night!
October 17, 2014 — 11:27 AM
Kaylin (@theleastshrew) says:
Heartbreaking. I feel for you and for Tai, I hope she finds some relief and peace no matter which way it turns.
October 17, 2014 — 11:37 AM
Elizabeth SaFleur (@ElizaLoveStory) says:
I’m so sorry to hear your little Taco Terrier is feeling so poorly. Our critters own our whole hearts. So it’s a sad day when you have to say good-bye. Sending you and TT lots of well wishes and hopes for a miracle.
October 17, 2014 — 11:43 AM
fadedglories says:
Dogs get such a grip on your heart. I sympathise with the rotten situation you’re in.
October 17, 2014 — 11:47 AM
itsfamilyjules says:
My Linus was 15.5 years old, which is pretty impressive for a once-110 lb German Shepherd/Malamute/Lab mix and I’d been watching him like a hawk. I’d waited too long before (18 year old Schnauzer mix, waited at least 6 months too long), and I wasn’t going to do it again. At one point he dropped down to 88 lbs. But he was still enjoying life, still trucking. So I put him on puppy food for the extra calories and got him up to 93. Vet said that was a good place, less pressure on the joints. One evening his hips (which, being GSD, had been giving him trouble for awhile) went out on him. He panicked, I panicked, it was horrible. I called the vet and made an appointment for the following Monday.
Monday came and he was great. He was coherent and loving and moving around easily. I postponed with the vet and had three truly great days with my heart dog. Then he stopped eating altogether and I knew he was telling me he was ready. The vet came to the house and made sure that my other dog got to say goodbye–both before and after Linus was gone. She said that letting Dulci sniff Linus after he was gone would alleviate her confusion and would stop her searching for him after he was gone. I recommend you do that with your other dog. During the actual procedure, Dulci went into the other room, but then we brought her back out to say goodbye to her brother in her own way. She got really horrible sad, which made ME sadder, but I know it was the right thing to do. She mourned right along with us for a couple of months but slowly came out of it.
It really was peaceful. He slept with his head on my lap and I told him over and over how he’d been the best dog in the world. That brings tears even now, because I’ve honestly not truly dealt with losing him. I’m working up to it.
This is a long-ass way of saying, you’re doing the right thing. It’s the hardest thing, but you know you’ve given that little girl the best life possible. They do tell you when they’re ready, you just have to be listening. And you are. And you’re amazing and I know your heart will hurt for a long time and you have my sympathy. Hang in there.
October 17, 2014 — 12:29 PM
Clint H says:
No one would have thought twice if you would have cancelled your appearance last night to stay with your family given the circumstances. I think I speak for all who attended in saying thank you for your time, and turning an already perfect little bookstore into a place to exchange very large literary ideas. We’ll all be hoping for the best for you and your family in a difficult time.
October 17, 2014 — 12:31 PM
threeoutside says:
My heart goes out to you. It seems so cruel that at the end, too often the most loving thing we can do is make that final decision. But your doggy knows you love her, and what a wonderful life you’ve given her. Know you’re not alone and look at all the commenters who know exactly what you’re going through. *hugs* to all of you.
October 17, 2014 — 12:32 PM
tedra says:
Aww, I’m so glad your dog is doing better. My little Raizo died in my arms on my bedroom floor. I tried everything to get him back to health but he was young, his body was ready to fight off Parvo. Good luck to you and your family.
October 17, 2014 — 2:27 PM
Jenni C says:
I feel your pain. We just lost one of ours recently. I think most owners who love their dogs know when it is time, and you will too. Enjoy your days, however many they may be, and know we all grieve a little when a fellow animal lover loses a beloved pet.
October 17, 2014 — 2:29 PM
Von Jocks says:
Your care extra for your taco dog adds to the brightness of the world. I have a blind, 14-year-old cocker spaniel and am in that stage of watching, and medicating, and thinking every other week that “Yeah, he’s not gonna make it another month” before he then happily if clumsily makes it another month. I very much connect with your journey here. Hooray for the extra days of eating and healthy poop–thanks for sharing the good news. No matter how long it lasts, it counts!
October 17, 2014 — 3:19 PM