Today a dog died. He didn't die because he wasn't loved. He didn't die because he didn't have medical attention. He died because we were too late. We were too late to educate his owners, too late to educate a community about the hazards around our houses and too late to educate humanity that our dogs are not disposable.
Caesar was a 1 year old Poodle-Shih Tzu who came into the shelter matted to the bone, completely pink from what we thought was a sun-burn after being left in a box in the desert and wounds all over him. The hot summer desert didn't kill him. Nope, he survived that. What ended up killing our little boy was lungs that had been damaged by some type of chemical before we got him. We thought it was kennel cough because most dogs have kennel cough when they come out of the shelter and he was hacking away. When he didn't get better after a few weeks, off to the vet to get some super-duper good meds and get him on the mend. His home was already lined up because he was such a special boy, I had to find the best home for him and I had it! Never did we expect the answer we got..."His lungs are beyond repair. He doesn't have much time..."
I remember the words reverberating around in my head and not connecting. Not this sweet, little boy who was fun spirited, loving, great with other animals. No! He just had kennel cough and it was a bad strain. Right? Right? Oh no. It can't be...
So he came home and got daily shots that allowed him to breathe easier. For awhile he did better and then slowly we began to see a decline. As one month after another passed, I deluded myself into believing that he could survive like this and just live here. Then slowly he wasn't getting up to run outside. Slowly he was dragging himself from one bed to another when I would leave the room and he wanted to follow. I saw the signs but I just believed we needed better medicine. And heck, we needed a better vet. After all, 9 years with one vet, we need to go elsewhere and get a second opinion. But I didn't get a different opinion. I just got confirmation what my soul knew all along...we were losing him quickly.
Today he didn't get up. Today he was gasping and today he looked at me with those beautiful saucer brown eyes and begged me to let him go. I laid on the floor next to his favorite bed and cried. I begged him to forgive me for not finding him somehow sooner. I asked for forgiveness for the person who dumped him at the shelter. I promised him we'd hold him as we said goodbye. I told him about the rainbow bridge and told him he'd be able to run free and fast as the wind through the meadows and he'd be greeted by others who had gone before him from our rescue.
I laid with his empty pillow tonight with a heart screaming with pain. I realize in these painful moments, rescue isn't always about saving dogs. Sometimes it's about giving them love for the time they are with us and then ultimately knowing when it's time to say goodbye.
Run free little man...we'll see you at the Bridge.....
Caesar was a 1 year old Poodle-Shih Tzu who came into the shelter matted to the bone, completely pink from what we thought was a sun-burn after being left in a box in the desert and wounds all over him. The hot summer desert didn't kill him. Nope, he survived that. What ended up killing our little boy was lungs that had been damaged by some type of chemical before we got him. We thought it was kennel cough because most dogs have kennel cough when they come out of the shelter and he was hacking away. When he didn't get better after a few weeks, off to the vet to get some super-duper good meds and get him on the mend. His home was already lined up because he was such a special boy, I had to find the best home for him and I had it! Never did we expect the answer we got..."His lungs are beyond repair. He doesn't have much time..."
I remember the words reverberating around in my head and not connecting. Not this sweet, little boy who was fun spirited, loving, great with other animals. No! He just had kennel cough and it was a bad strain. Right? Right? Oh no. It can't be...
So he came home and got daily shots that allowed him to breathe easier. For awhile he did better and then slowly we began to see a decline. As one month after another passed, I deluded myself into believing that he could survive like this and just live here. Then slowly he wasn't getting up to run outside. Slowly he was dragging himself from one bed to another when I would leave the room and he wanted to follow. I saw the signs but I just believed we needed better medicine. And heck, we needed a better vet. After all, 9 years with one vet, we need to go elsewhere and get a second opinion. But I didn't get a different opinion. I just got confirmation what my soul knew all along...we were losing him quickly.
Today he didn't get up. Today he was gasping and today he looked at me with those beautiful saucer brown eyes and begged me to let him go. I laid on the floor next to his favorite bed and cried. I begged him to forgive me for not finding him somehow sooner. I asked for forgiveness for the person who dumped him at the shelter. I promised him we'd hold him as we said goodbye. I told him about the rainbow bridge and told him he'd be able to run free and fast as the wind through the meadows and he'd be greeted by others who had gone before him from our rescue.
I laid with his empty pillow tonight with a heart screaming with pain. I realize in these painful moments, rescue isn't always about saving dogs. Sometimes it's about giving them love for the time they are with us and then ultimately knowing when it's time to say goodbye.
Run free little man...we'll see you at the Bridge.....
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