I haven't posted in the Animalicious! forum for quite some time, but today, I wanted to share my story with, well, as many people as possible.
Harley was a 13.5 year-old german shepherd/rotweiler. I adopted him at 4 mos. and 45 lbs. in 1997 out of foster care. His mother was a stray... a pregnant, german shepherd, and no where to go. His foster mom, Elizabeth, whelped the pups to health and adopted them out. Harley was the last of the litter. Of course, he was not named Harley at the time. He was "Rowdy". It should have been a warning but I could not resist the confident, handsome pup that he was. I will never forget the trip home. From the back of my Honda Civic hatchback, he put his left paw on my shoulder, pulled himself forward and showered me with kisses. He was not without faults - he did eat a pair of diamond earrings (!!! - and, yes, I did look...) & chew holes in my walls of epic proportions. However, when I adopted him, I made a promise, I was his "forever home". Over time, he settled in, and we developed our own rhythm, and had many, delightful adventures together. (Rides, dog parks, etc.)
In the past month, Harley had been sick with an upper respiratory infection; after one round of antibiotics, last week, we went back to the vet and, I called out the fact that his lymph nodes were swollen. With "Dr. B", we discovered all his lymph nodes were afflicted. We decided to aspirate & also x-ray his heart and lungs. Nothing suggested pneumonia, so off with another round of anti-biotics, and waiting for the results.
Last Wednesday, I learned that Harley had Lymphoma. He had been declining over the prior days - refusing food and even the Metacam that tastes of honey & is meant to help with the arthritis in his knees. Discussions with his vets, and possibilities for treatment of lymphoma were explored. I read up on the WSU website and considered all the options.
I spoke with my Dad, a hospice chaplain, who offered so many words of wisdom as I came to terms with the reality that Harley would not recover from this illness.
On Friday morning, I decided that a course of chemotherapy may give him six months more with me in this life, but the ancillary illness (nausea, etc.) was more than I wanted him to bear. I also decided I would simply spoil him with his favorite things - salmon (oh-mon-dieu the drool!), peanut butter & lots of love.
Saturday was a bit rough. I asked the vet for some medication to help soothe him and eliminate any pain he may be experiencing. The combination made him a bit like a drunken sailor and he struggled to stand. Harley was always committed to NEVER messing in the house...it was amazing as I watched him eventually WILL himself to head to the front door for a request to go "out."
Sunday was a "Good Day". Eating almost all of his food (specially prepared ground beef) and lots of treats (kong w/peanut butter & milk bones).
Then, today, Monday dawned. It was quickly apparent things were "off". Harley did not follow my boyfriend out of the room. He barely stirred. I cooked up ground beef and kibble and it was barely touched. A brief walk outside to eliminate was slow. His legs quivered, so difficult - trying so hard - and he stumbled. Losing strength. Weakened.
As I readied myself for work this morning, I realized the most humiliating thing for Harley would be having a mess in the house. And, I did not want my little bear to suffer. I wanted him to leave this life with Dignity. Respect. Love. All the things he had always known.
Today, my sweet, furry prince is off running in fields, fully restored to the health & vigor he once knew.
It was the most beautiful experience I have ever had in my life. He left this earth at home, courtesy of two angels, my dear friends Jennifer and Maria (Dr. B) who are veterinarians. Candles were lit, he had his kong stuffed with peanut butter, on his bed, in front of a fire, and his favorite radio station, KPLU, was playing jazz in the background.
My sister, Beth, left work to say goodbye and my boyfriend, Dexter was with us. Harley was surrounded by everyone who loved him so dearly.
He loved us all & we will be forever blessed for having him in our lives. He took his last breath with a jar of chunky peanut butter under his paw - spoiled rotten to the end.
In spite of my loss, today was a beautiful day - for all of us.
Thank you for letting me share my story.
Harley, 1997 - 2010
Harley was a 13.5 year-old german shepherd/rotweiler. I adopted him at 4 mos. and 45 lbs. in 1997 out of foster care. His mother was a stray... a pregnant, german shepherd, and no where to go. His foster mom, Elizabeth, whelped the pups to health and adopted them out. Harley was the last of the litter. Of course, he was not named Harley at the time. He was "Rowdy". It should have been a warning but I could not resist the confident, handsome pup that he was. I will never forget the trip home. From the back of my Honda Civic hatchback, he put his left paw on my shoulder, pulled himself forward and showered me with kisses. He was not without faults - he did eat a pair of diamond earrings (!!! - and, yes, I did look...) & chew holes in my walls of epic proportions. However, when I adopted him, I made a promise, I was his "forever home". Over time, he settled in, and we developed our own rhythm, and had many, delightful adventures together. (Rides, dog parks, etc.)
In the past month, Harley had been sick with an upper respiratory infection; after one round of antibiotics, last week, we went back to the vet and, I called out the fact that his lymph nodes were swollen. With "Dr. B", we discovered all his lymph nodes were afflicted. We decided to aspirate & also x-ray his heart and lungs. Nothing suggested pneumonia, so off with another round of anti-biotics, and waiting for the results.
Last Wednesday, I learned that Harley had Lymphoma. He had been declining over the prior days - refusing food and even the Metacam that tastes of honey & is meant to help with the arthritis in his knees. Discussions with his vets, and possibilities for treatment of lymphoma were explored. I read up on the WSU website and considered all the options.
I spoke with my Dad, a hospice chaplain, who offered so many words of wisdom as I came to terms with the reality that Harley would not recover from this illness.
On Friday morning, I decided that a course of chemotherapy may give him six months more with me in this life, but the ancillary illness (nausea, etc.) was more than I wanted him to bear. I also decided I would simply spoil him with his favorite things - salmon (oh-mon-dieu the drool!), peanut butter & lots of love.
Saturday was a bit rough. I asked the vet for some medication to help soothe him and eliminate any pain he may be experiencing. The combination made him a bit like a drunken sailor and he struggled to stand. Harley was always committed to NEVER messing in the house...it was amazing as I watched him eventually WILL himself to head to the front door for a request to go "out."
Sunday was a "Good Day". Eating almost all of his food (specially prepared ground beef) and lots of treats (kong w/peanut butter & milk bones).
Then, today, Monday dawned. It was quickly apparent things were "off". Harley did not follow my boyfriend out of the room. He barely stirred. I cooked up ground beef and kibble and it was barely touched. A brief walk outside to eliminate was slow. His legs quivered, so difficult - trying so hard - and he stumbled. Losing strength. Weakened.
As I readied myself for work this morning, I realized the most humiliating thing for Harley would be having a mess in the house. And, I did not want my little bear to suffer. I wanted him to leave this life with Dignity. Respect. Love. All the things he had always known.
Today, my sweet, furry prince is off running in fields, fully restored to the health & vigor he once knew.
It was the most beautiful experience I have ever had in my life. He left this earth at home, courtesy of two angels, my dear friends Jennifer and Maria (Dr. B) who are veterinarians. Candles were lit, he had his kong stuffed with peanut butter, on his bed, in front of a fire, and his favorite radio station, KPLU, was playing jazz in the background.
My sister, Beth, left work to say goodbye and my boyfriend, Dexter was with us. Harley was surrounded by everyone who loved him so dearly.
He loved us all & we will be forever blessed for having him in our lives. He took his last breath with a jar of chunky peanut butter under his paw - spoiled rotten to the end.
In spite of my loss, today was a beautiful day - for all of us.
Thank you for letting me share my story.
Harley, 1997 - 2010
