Eulogy for Sammy

Sammy died at 5:28pm.

Once Sara died in July 2013, he never was the same.  When Sara died, he lost his playmate.  He was never close to the other dogs that joined our pack.  He grieved for a long  time but did snap out of it and wanted to join the other dogs when I took them on walks.  His last walk with  the pack was the Sunday I returned from my Spring Break trip to the San Bernardino Mountains this past March.  He walked a mile when the other dogs did three and rested in the van and waited.  He never showed an interest in walking after that, although he'd look at us as we gathered for the front door.

Old dogs are like old people.  We adapt to their special needs.  We tolerate their quirks.  They remind us that we will be like them one day.  They teach us patience.  Old dogs are still part of the family so we do what we can to make their life fulfilling.  With Sammy it was walking slower and not as far.  I gave him glucosamine supplements and added vitamins.  I fed him less treats since he wasn't burning the calories when he was younger.  Even the younger dogs put up with him as he was the old patriarch.  He'd howl at a distant siren and cause the rest of the dogs to howl.  I will miss his howls.  I worried about his health this past year when he started showing fatigue or lack of interest in walking.  I knew it was a matter of time.

Most older dogs are put down when they start relieving themselves in the house. I saw that firsthand when I volunteered at the animal shelters.  When Sammy started soiling the carpet in the hallway or living room, I'd clean the affected area and try to barricade the living room with boxes or large items to keep the dogs out.  At one point I simply gave up keeping the carpet clean, though.  When I saw Sammy soil the carpet, I'd yell at him and he seemed to realize what he was doing and would run outside.  Just earlier this month I saw him go outside to pee or poop.  He liked napping on the bare tile of the dining area because that was a central place between the water bucket and the back yard.

Sammy's health spiraled downward just last week. I was in the Baltimore area over the Memorial Day week for my nephew's wedding when I got a text message from Kevin that Sammy was in great pain. That was a Saturday afternoon and I was with my sister on the way to our rehearsal dinner in Little Italy.  I thought he was dying that day but he lived a few more days. He had become paralyzed in his hind legs and was in pain.  The last time he was able to get up on his own was Sunday, when he also took a tenderloin steak that Kevin had made just for him.  Kevin kept me updated on Sammy's health and it became my goal to get back home Tuesday to see Sammy alive.

I got home at 1am.  The home had a strange smell.  It was not the smell of feces or urine (Sam and Pache had both peed a lot by the front door and at times it was rather strong) The smell was more acidic, like that associated with hospitals.  Sammy was lying on his right  on the tile floor with a water bowl by his side. He was resting and breathing softly.  When I called him name he woke up and soon began to whimper in a high-pitched howl, a howl I had never heard from him before.  He clearly was in pain.

That night I never got any rest.  I rested by his side on my camping cot.  I'd pet him and give him water, which he drank a lot of.  I replaced the wet towel by his side, a towel moist with both water and urine, and made sure he could rest his head on something soft.  He could still raise his head and move his body around, but he showed no interest in the rest of the meat Kevin had for him.

Wednesday morning both Kevin and I agree we needed to put Sammy down.  He was clearly in pain. My first choice was a mobile vet but I couldn't get through to him.  My second choice was New Frontier, an upscale vet clinic that does euthanasia at home.  My third choice was our own vet at Sierra Animal Hospital, but you must bring the animal inside to the clinic.  I never considered calling animal control because the county Animal Control Officers here can be rather gruff.  I made an appointment for 4:45pm so that Kevin could be there after he got off work.

Sammy's last day on earth meant a day of quiet peace.  I gave him water, sometimes I held him up so he could drink better, but he could also help himself to the water bowl and drink lying down.  I replaced the soiled towels with fresh, dry ones.  I wanted to start cleaning up the living room, but I also knew I couldn't use the vacuum or carpet cleaner.

Sammy howled in pain twice in the morning, at 8am and again at  around 11am.  He rested in between. I stayed in the home to watch for any physical changes, like the deep breathing animals display before death.  He was still alert and would move his eyes and ears when I came near.  His eyes, despite the cataracts, were alert.

Sammy's condition went from serious to critical at around 2:30pm, right before Kevin came home.  His breathing became loud.  I knew that he would pass today even without any euthanasia.

More later (this is a hard one to write as I still get choked up)
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