I'll try and make this short. He was a mystery dog the day we got him, coming to us via the Animal Defense League shelter, and he came to them via the city pound. So I really have no idea how he spent most of his life. They told us he was about two years old. Toby came to us several months ago with many health problems, the most troubling of which was kidneys that were on their way to failing. We did everything humanly and financially possible to give those kidneys a shot at recovery. But in the end, his little kidneys were just too far gone to keep up. Even with regular fluids (doggie dialysis, basically).
Toby died early this morning out in the yard, in one of his favorite spots. It was a cool, breezy evening (his favorite weather). I know because I sat outside with him through most of the night. When dogs "know" they are going to die, they will often separate themselves from their pack and go off alone. Toby was the most social of dogs, but when he started going way off by himself for long periods of time, starting about the day before yesterday, I knew what was coming. Needless to say last night was not an easy night, the "no pain" part of his condition ended early last night, several hours before the end. Anyway, we gave him as much comfort and love as possible. Even though he was outside, it was clear he appreciated me sitting with him and petting him for hours in the wee hours of the morning.
Toby was a very special dog. And I'm not saying that because he was ours. In our almost daily trips to the vet together this past month, whenever we would walk in, random customers, the vet techs, the receptionists...they all were immediately drawn to Toby. When discussing putting him down last week with the vet, it was almost as hard on the folks at the vet as it was on us. Everyone had grown quite attached to him. We were all rooting for the little guy. Our vet told us that there was nothing further he could do, and so in desperation we turned to an alternative, homeopathic specialist who tried several things as well. Sometimes there just isn't anything that can be done.
In the short few months that we came to know Toby, I can say that he was the sweetest and most loving animal I have ever come across. He absolutely loved people, loved to be pet and cuddled, loved to chill out on your lap in front of the TV or in the car. In a funny way, my special times with Toby were often in the car. I have spent many accumulated hours with Toby in my car, going back and forth to the vet. Those were great times, honestly. He always insisted on sitting in my lap. Early on, I tried to make him sit in the passenger seat, for safey reasons. But that just started a constant struggle of wills of him trying to make his way to my lap, me putting him back in the seat, him making his way to my lap, me putting him in the seat, etc., etc., etc. Toby won. Finally I said "to hell with it" and let him sit in my lap. From them on, he would sit up quietly in my lap, watching the sites go by through the window. Or, more recently, he would lay down and go to sleep.
Anyway, I'm sorry for the rambling and emotion, but I'm on about 2 hours of sleep after a tough night, but that is not what I want to leave off with. I want to remember Toby running around in the yard; shuffling his feet excitedly in anticipation of a tasty treat; sitting with me on our many drives; standing up to Winston in fighting for domination of cherished couch space...and most importantly, his almost impossibly and devastatingly sweet nature. That is the only way I know to describe it. We were privileged and blessed to have been given the opportunity to get to know and love him. RIP Toby.
13 comments:
I'm really sorry. This was a very moving post, and he was obviously lucky to have you guys around to take care of him at the end of his life.
He was a very lucky dog to have you both there at the end. I know how much pets bring to their humans' lives and I know how hard it is to watch one pass on. My deepest condolences.
I'm sorry, too, Ray. He was lucky to have you.
Often, there is a reason that we come into each others' lives at a particular point in time. Clearly, you and Nicki were precisely what Toby needed in these final months of his life. No one could have made him more comfortable, or made him feel more loved. He was extremely fortunate that you were all placed together, even if only for a moment.
I'm sorry Dez. I don't want to think about what beak start Toby had in life before he came to you, but, I can't imagine a better wish for a dog than to pass away in the lap of a loving family.
Dez, I'm so sorry to hear that Toby could not pull through. He was obviously a very loving and peaceful soul, and it's great that he was able to be surrounded by so much love in his final days.
I am just finishing a wonderful book called "Merle's Door". It's the best story about a dog I've ever read. Merle was found by the San Juan River on a floating trip by outdoor journalist Ted Kerosote. He took him home to Kelly, Wyoming, where Merle lived a wonderful life on the edge of civilization and the wild. Since I'm near the end, I know Merle is nearing the end, as well, so this is a double whammy for me.
I'm so happy, though, that our 2 dogs are getting to explore a little of the wild, as well. They occasionally chase deer and elk behind our house, but mostly they love to hunt chipmunks. We had to build a 12-foot rock wall along our driveway to keep the steep slope from eroding. To our 2 dogs, though, it looks more like a chipmunk high-rise.
I'm really sorry for Toby...
Thanks to all for your heartfelt comments. We appreciate them all.
That was a great post Dez. I am glad that toby was with you till the end.
I'm so, so sorry.
But, to echo some of the other posters, what immediately struck me while reading through this post was how lucky Toby was to have you and your wife, and get to spend these months in your house - pampered and loved and showered with affection. It warms my heart to know that he experienced such kindness and affection before he had to pass.
It was a great thing you did for Toby, Dez. Very few dogs get to spend their last months on earth in such a loving environment. Everyone who reads the blog should think hard about adopting a shelter animal if it's feasible.
Thanks, Saxo. "If it's feasible" is the key, though. With us, it was a fortuitous combination of factors (for Toby). I was unemployed and looking for work much of that time. If I had been working full time during that period, I would not have been able to dedicate so much time to his care. And, for a "free" shelter dog, he ended up costing more than an expensive purebreed. But I would not have had it any other way. Even with what happened, I am SO glad that we ended up with him and he ended up with us. If there was a chance for him, I'd still gladly spend the necessary money for him. But, you've got to be willing to put in the time and the finances if you are going to care for a sick animal.
Not that all shelter animals are sick. Many of them are healthy. I agree with you, philosophically. I don't see why people would go to the puppy mills or breeders when they can go down to the pound or shelters and give a needy and loving dog a home.
I have reflected a lot on Toby since he died. Without sounding too weird, I have been struck by his rather remarkable spirit. I mean, this dog was sick from multiple maladies. He was taken almost daily to the vet where he was poked and prodded, had needles stuck in him, fluids pumped into him...that kind of sucks any way you look at it. Yet (and the vet techs commented on this as well) he NEVER resisted, never whined or barked or snapped or "complained", so to speak. He always took it all in stride and remained a very sweet and affectionate dog, even to the people putting needles into his veins daily. In the end, I had them show me how to do it and I gave him the fluids myself.
And even on that horrible Saturday night / Sunday morning, when he really was in pain and dying...the same thing. He never snapped or got irritated. Usually a dog in pain will snap at you, just in defense. But I was able to pick Toby up and hold him in my lap, rub his tummy, pet him, etc. He was moaning and in bad shape at the very end, yet he NEVER reacted to me or my wife in any way other than affection. But to be honest, he was also kind of out of it most of the night too. Fortunately, as the vet explained to me after the fact, the toxins were getting into his brain at that point, and he was basically like he was very drunk or on drugs. That is how he died. The kidneys had completely shut down, the toxins invaded his brain and put pressure on the brain, and it suppressed his breathing.
It sounds kinda stupid in a sense, afterall this is just a dog, but I really admire this animal more than most people I've come across. To take the crappy hand he was dealt with such grace and still be as loving and kind to the very last hour of his life? Shit. We could all learn from that kind of spirit and strength. Like I said, I will always admire the hell out of that dog, as well as have a special place in my heart for him that I don't think any other animal can go. I mean, this was a special fucking animal with an amazing, good spirit in him that could not be crushed, even in his darkest hour.
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