I’ve mentioned my parent’s dog, Mugsy, a few times. He’s fifteen years old, (will be 16 in may), and he’s still going strong. Growing up, we always had dogs. But like most pets, there comes a time when you have to say the final good bye. It’s a very difficult thing to do. Let’s face it, they are a member of your family. So, on Saturday morning, we all got up knowing that Mugsy’s appointment to the doctor, would probably be his last.
It all started on Friday morning when he was acting strange. He didn’t want to eat, he wasn’t moving around, and he was digging hole and throwing up. We offered him cheese, and he didn’t want it. This was not good. Hoping he would feel better by the afternoon, we all went to work thinking about him all day. My mother had already made an appointment with the vet who could see him at 8:30, Saturday morning. But by the time we got home, we discovered he was in worse condition.
He hadn’t done a pee or poo all day, which is a warning sign that something is very serious. A dog could usually last about 24 hours before his system starts to shut down from the toxins in his urine that is not being released. He also dug a hole, and collapse head first in the hole. This was now an emergency.
Since his doctor was closed for the rest of the day, my parents decided to take him to the local animal hospital which as emergency pet care all night. It was decided that if the vet at the pet care place suggested to put him to sleep, they would wait until morning when Mugsy could see his own vet. Sure enough, the emergency place told my parents that his system was shutting down, and he was going into kidney failure.
My parents brought him home, and had a sleepless night, knowing that he would probably be put down in the morning. although my mother would have wanted him to die peacefully in his sleep, she also didn’t want him to suffer. I reminded her that he was old, and he had a very good life. He traveled with my parents a lot, and yes, he was spoiled, but isn’t that what you do with your pets? But no matter how hard you try to justify to yourself that it’s okay to let him go, it’s still hard.
The next morning, my mother found Mugsy in the closet sleeping. She told me between tears, that he loves to sleep in the closet. Isn’t it strange that even in his condition, he’s still doing things that are a habit to him. We laughed and cried about it. We were now on the count down to Mugsy’s life. My mother suggested to my step father to walk him. Maybe he’d go to the bathroom. It was nothing more than a desperate attempt to avoid the inevitable. Tom said okay, and put the leash on him. Mugsy slowly walked out the door. “don’t get your hopes up.” I informed my mother.
They were gone for about 15 minutes, which was normal. Mugsy doesn’t walk as fast as he use to, and we spent the time waiting, crying but also cooping with the inevitable. When Tom returned, we both jumped on him. ”Well?”
“He did one poo, and about 8 pees.” He informed us. Not only that but he already looked a hell of a lot better. We were all shocked, and now crying out of joy. He might just make it after all.
By the time he got to the vet, he was his old self. The vet did a series of test, and checked him out completely. His heart was still strong, and with the exception of a few things that can be contributed to old age, he was healthy. He put him on some antibiotics, and had my mother change his diet to ground beef and rice, and that was it. And to think, the emergency vet wanted my parents to put him to sleep only the night before.
Mugsy’s Nine Lives
Mugsy hasn’t had nine lives yet, but the count is getting higher. This isn’t the first time a vet wanted to put him to sleep. The first time was about 8 years ago when he was about 7 years old.
Life one: Mugsy had gotten into the garbage and ate an entire chicken carcus. When my parents discovered what he was doing, they rushed him to the vet. The vet took X-rays and discovered serious internal damage. The dog was definitely in pain at that point, and the vet didn’t think he would survive. The suggestion was to put him down. Although the doctor admitted there was hope, there wasn’t much, and it would take a long time, and cost a ton. My parents told him to do what he had to do. Money would not factor into their decision. As long as there was hope, they would do what they could for him. Three weeks later, Mugsy came home, almost as good as new. As for the disposal of any kind of bones, all garbages where child (dog) proofed. There was no way he or any other animal would ever get any type of bone again.
Life two: Three years later, when Mugsy was ten, He was acting a little strange. He refused to eat, and wouldn’t go to the bathroom (sound familiar?) At the time, my parents didn’t know that this was something to be concerned about. They just thought that it would pass. But by the beginning of the second day, Mugsy was crying, and in definite pain. My parents took him to the vet. It didn’t look good. The vet determined that he had kidney stones, which could be operated on, however, since it had been more than 24 hours since he last urinated, his kidneys were probably beyond repair. His suggestion was to put Mugsy down. My parents once again said, do what you can for him. Needless to say, Mugsy survived with no permanent damage to his kidneys.
Life Three: Now that my parents know that the lack of urination is serious, they actually count the number of times he pees each day. Yes folks, I’m serious, and you would too if you nearly lost your beloved pet because of something like that. So when it happened again two years later, they took immediate action. The only problem was it was Sunday, and his vet was closed. So my parent’s took Mugsy to the emergency pet care place, and had them drain Mugsy’s blader to give him time to get to the vet. The next day, they took him to his vet. It was the same problem. kidney stones. The doctor could operate, however, due to his age, Mugsy was 12 at that point, he felt it might be better to put him to sleep because he might not survive the surgery and the surgery was costly. Well, my parents knew just how costly it was, but hey, do it any way. So the doctor did. Although it took longer for him to heal after the surgery he survived.
Life four: Life four is what I described in the beginning of the post. Although he didn’t need surgery this time, it’s interesting how the emergency pet care place told my parents he was going into kidney failure and should be put to sleep. Yet this time, he healed himself. He was fine by the nest morning and all his doctor had to do what check him out. As mentioned he’s still healthy for a 15 year old dog. He may not be able to see or hear well, but his heart is strong, and he’s not in any pain, and at that age, isn’t that all that matters?
Okay, so this is just four lives, not nine. But who knows what will happen next week, next month or next year. I’m not fooling myself, I realize that he’s been very lucky, and my parents are the reason for that. To them, Mugsy is their son. That’s the way it is with most people and there pets, and that’s the way it should be as far as I’m concerned. That being said, they do for Mugsy what they would do for their son. As for me, as I notice yet another fresh pee in the hall way that I need to clean up because I didn’t get him outside in time, I smile and say to myself, “God, I hate cleaning this up, but it’s my own fault for not letting him out in time. At least we still have Mugsy.”
Posted by justmeandthecat 
