By now I was supposed to be back in Canada, visiting family.
But life had other plans.
From whatever refund I could get, it’s ALL gone towards vet bills. This is her second ear infection this year and it is likely that the last one was deeper than the vets realized and did not quite clear.
So I was meant to stay to look after her, cleaning her stent and pus discharge and feeding her the right dosage of a menagerie of medication. Plus yesterday I had to run down some human antibiotics for her as her bacteria is resistant to what was initially prescribed. Thankfully I have my friend’s car while she is away and that made running multiple errands much quicker.
The wait at NUH was still a wait. The waiting room was completely packed, with sales people selling shoes “for people who stand and sit for a long time” and demo’ing essential oils. The pharmacy had quite a good supply of healthier foods and other products so I spent some of my time reading from the Kindle app and some of my time browsing, reading ingredients. Waiting for 680 to beep onto the screen.
She’s now on her new antibiotics and I found her this morning dripping with pus, a development. Luckily she is short-haired and aside from all the struggling she puts up, keeping her clean is do-able. Free of pus, debris, and errant artifacts, she’s taking a nap, her stomach fiercely gurgling. A side effect of this particular antibiotics is upset stomach and diarrhea. In two hours she will be getting her second breakfast, with the probiotics and herbal antibiotic her vet also dispensed.
I grew up with dogs and yet I have never had elderly dogs. This is a new experience.
Our two “female” family cats lived to ripe old ages. The boy, sweet sweet boy, did not. He lived his life on his own terms, running around the neighborhood, making friends. Friends he would bring home and they would play in the backyard and back alley. One day he did not outrun a car.
You never quite get over the loss of an animal.
I am grateful I could fly home to be with his sister. I got them – Milo & Hachi – in Montreal while I was there studying. Those precious last days with Hachi brought me back to those precious first days. I had my dog with me for the school term and the first night these two joined us was quite a circus. I trusted my dog and bypassed the long protocol of proper introductions. I was lucky. Everyone survived. Perhaps it was because the cats were so small they were hardly a threat and quite submissive. That first night, when I finally dropped into sleep, the cats did what cats do. Being nocturnal, they ran loops around the apartment, much to the despair and dismay of my dog who slept at my feet. I think we all breathed a sigh of relief, with thoughts of impending sleep, when the cats finally found their sleeping place that first night. One on each side of my head. By my ears. Boy, they purred loudly. With engines roaring at my ears, a dog pinning my legs down, I happily dozed off, at the thought of my newly expanded family.
The moment Hachi stopped taking food was a signal of the end. It was time to just be with her, no more force feeding and medicating in the hope things will turn around. Those days passed with me laying with her, speaking with her, listening to her, holding her, and remembering the days gone by.
I know the end will come for my dogs. I am pretty sure I will never be ready for that day. I don’t think you are ever ready. Whenever they are quiet and laying still, I peek over to check for the rise of their chest. Sometimes it is slight, when they are in deep sleep. And then perhaps a leg would kick out in dream. And I breathe again.
This worry of when that day is preoccupies me. I am alone in this and I am afraid I will not be able to do it, to make it through. I have lost many, many animal friends and each time, a horrible terrible loss. Over time, the balance shifts more to remembering the moments we shared, rather than the sorrow that lives on. I don’t think the sorrow will ever really go away. Not really. The darkness of that sorrow fades over time perhaps. Loss and grief are not easy to rise from, but rise we must.
I know that I am doing my best. I know they know that I am doing my best. And that counts for quite a lot. And sometimes changing plans is a good thing. I never know when our last days are and spending these moments and these days with my dearest companions is priceless.
