Remembering Lucy Jo

In three days it will be six months since Lucy Jo left us. She was almost 14 and we'd had her almost her whole life. She was a beautiful little rat terrier. She had her flaws, though. She hated non-family members and didn't get along with out other dogs, but we loved her just the same. By 2007, she was the only dog left, our other girls having passed on from old age. That opened up a whole new world of spoiling for Lucy, canned food, constant inside time, sleeping in the bed with us. All of the attention she'd had to share before was all hers, and she returned our affections 1000-fold.

Then in 2009 when she was 12, the seizures started. It was terrifying. The vet didn't seem terribly concerned, since there really wasn't anything they could do besides give us medication to control the seizures. No reputable vet would offer to perform brain surgery on an elderly dog, even if she had something that could be resolved surgically - she was just too old. They said it was either from a stroke or a tumor or an artieral-venous malformation (I think that's what they called it). Anyway, the medication worked great. There were no seizures at all for months. When she finally had another, they increased the medicine and everything was fine again. For a while.

Last November she had an attack of necrotizing pancreatitis brought on by too much fat (steak scraps). She was in the hospital a week. They didn't think she would come home, but somehow she recovered, and within two days of being home, it was like nothing had ever happened. She had to eat prescription diet, but she liked it, and she learned quickly that begging wasn't going to get her anywhere anymore. If she got any table food at all, it was peas and carrots, her favorites.

We just carried on as normal, and then in February the seizures came back with a vengeance. Multiple times a day, and she was fully conscious and terrified each time it happened. The vet said to increase her medicine by one pill, and that helped some, but she continued to have partial seizures a few times a week. They only lasted a few seconds and I would just hold her until it was over and then she was fine.

One night in March, my husband was out of town, and I was in my home office working on the computer. I heard what sounded like bad dog behavior in the bedroom and asked my son to go see. He went into my room, and called me to come see what Lu had done. I had a small satin pillow filled with flax seeds called an eye pillow, and Lucy had torn it up, gotten seeds every where and ate most of them. I knew they weren't poisonous and wouldn't hurt her, but they were dry and irritating and she tried to throw them up. They had started to swell, and they were hard to vomit up and she heaved really hard and just keeled over. I pulled the mass of wet seeds out of her throat, and she was breathing fine, but she wouldn't wake up. The vet thinks that the force of the vomiting caused whatever was wrong in her brain to rupture and bleed, basically a massive stroke.

She was breathing normally, but completely limp and in a coma. I held her with my hand on her chest, feeling her heartbeat, and her head on my shoulder. At some point I fell asleep, and when I woke up, nothing had changed. So I just sat there holding her for hours. It was the middle of the night. Eventually her heartbeat became very rapid, and her breathing ragged, but she never moved. Finally there was one last breath. I could feel her heart still beating, and then it stopped. I didn't move, just held my baby. Out of nowhere, there was one more heartbeat, just one, and then it was all over. I didn't want to believe it. I didn't want to put her down. But when her bodily functions let go, I finally had to put her down and clean myself up, clean up the mess. But I put her on her favorite bed first, and covered her with her blanky.

I'll never forget the feeling that last heartbeat in my palm. We got a new puppy three months later, another female rat terrier, and I love her, but I think it was a mistake to get a dog that looks so much like my Lucy. I keep getting mad at the new puppy because she doesn't act like Lucy or do the things Lucy did. I thought a new puppy would ease the pain, but she looks so much like Lucy, it tears me open every day.

Lucy Jo:

My Lucy Just Died In My Arms

Lucy had undiagnosed seizures for over a year, mostly controlled my medication. She was 13. She had a bad bout of pancreatitis in November, spent a week in the hospital, but bounced back really well. In the past few weeks her seizures had become more frequent, but the vet said I was supposed to expect breakthrough seizures and they would check her phenobarbitol levels next week.

About 8 hours ago, I hear what sounded like Lucy getting into badness from the other room and sent my son to check. She'd gotten my Happy Eye Pillow, a little silk pillow filled with flaxseeds and torn it open. She ate a bunch of the seeds. Now I have scoured the internet and couldn't find anything that said flaxseed is bad for dogs, just the opposite - a lot of advice to add it to their food - so I think what happened next has to do more with her brain than the flaxseed. The seed made her stomach upset and she threw up several times. She seemed fine for a few minutes, and then she had a partial seizure. Every time I tried to move her she'd start seizuring again. The the seizures stopped and she was comatose. She didn't react to any stimuli at all, not even a hard toe pinch. My husband is out of town with the car so I had no way to get her to the ER vet, but it looked pretty hopeless anyway.

I tucked her into bed with me and just held her for a few hours. I slept for a bit, and she was still with us when I woke up three and half hours ago. I picked her up and put her on her comfy cushion, resting her head on her favorite plush toys and covered her with the blanket she liked to steal from me. I checked on her every few minutes while I searched the internet for any advise, any hope. Finally her breathing became loud and irregular. I snatched her up in my arms and I could feel her heart beating so fast under my hand. Her entire body was limp except for her front legs, which were very stiff. And then they suddenly weren't stiff anymore. I couldn't feel her heart anymore. She took a few more ragged breaths, then her bodily functions let go, and she was gone...

I'm just devastated. My whole family is. We knew we were on borrowed time - they told us that the sudden development of seizures in an older dog was almost surely a brain tumor or some type an aneurysm, and not treatable. But I can't bear it that she's gone.



This is Lucy Jo when she was just a few years old. Good night my beautiful princess. I will miss you forever.

Good-bye Princess Penny

She was fine on Friday when we dropped her off at the vet to be examined, groomed and boarded over the weekend. This was the first visit at the new vet, since we just moved. Nobody could believe that she was over 13 years old - she was so energetic and friendly. Saturday at feeding time, they put the food bowl down in front of her, and she just fell over and stopped breathing - the vet called and said he thought she'd had a stroke. They got her back, and she seemed to be recovering from the stroke, but she was having trouble with her blood sugar. They got that stabilized, and then she refused to eat or drink, and started vomiting bile. An ultrasound showed a huge tumor in her upper GI area, apparently growing really fast, since they couldn't feel anything at all on Friday, and by the following Tuesday night, the whole area was very painful. They gave her pain medications, an IV and tranquilizers to keep her alive until we could get there to say good-bye. My husband and I held her in our arms while she got the shot that ended her suffering (and started ours). When we got home, our other dog, Lucy, went looking for Penny all over the house - it was heart-breaking. But not as heart-breaking as telling our son what had happened - he doesn't even remember a life without that dog.

The Little Things Seem To Be The Hardest...

Moving her crate out of the house. Washing her blankies and stuffed toys. Waiting for them to call so I can pick up her ashes. Knowing that when I vacuum next, that will be the last time I vacuum up her hair. These are the things that make me cry. I didn't cry when I saw Sissy lying lifeless in her kennel. I didn't cry when my husband zipped her into a body bag to keep her safe until we could get to the crematory. I feel like I am going crazy. I just want to stay in bed all day, forever.

I keep playing that whole night over and over again in my mind. I'd just gotten out of the shower, and I realized it was way past the dogs' bedtime. We sent our son out to bring the dogs in. I mentioned to my husband that Sissy was due for her shots next month, and then our son came in and said "Daddy, Sissy won't get up." Before all the words were out of his mouth, I knew - my son's almost 14, and hasn't said "Daddy" in years. And I could see in his eyes that he knew she was dead but didn't want to believe it. I think a part of him was sure that his Daddy could fix it, like Daddy always could fix everything. But not this time.

Sissy Marie, Age 12

Our beautiful German Shepherd died last night. I guess it was just her time. She was never sick, never infirm. Today was just like every other day. We brought all the dogs inside twice today when it rained, and she was just fine. After the rain was over, the dogs went back out. Sissy ate all her food and settled down for a nap in the sun, and she was still there when my son went out to bring the dogs in for the night. It was later than usual, and I wondered why the dogs weren't barking to come in - Sissy always knew when it was time to come in for the night.

My husband got a body bag from work (he's a funeral director) and our lovely girl is in the garage sealed in the bag. Every time one of the neighbor dogs bark, I think it's her. I keep wanting to go out to the garage and check, even though I know she's really dead. And I don't know what to do with her now. We just moved to a really small town from the city. In the city, I'd know where to go and what to do, but I don't know what to do here. I want to have her cremated and keep her ashes, but I don't know where to go.

One of my other two dogs is the same age as Sissy, and I am so scared that we'll lose Penny now, too. I don't think I can bear it. When the rest of our girls are gone, I don't think I want any more dogs. This is just too hard. My son is devastated. We got Sissy before he was two years old - he doesn't remember a life without her, and it breaks my heart that he had to be the one to find her dead.

I know she was old, and I know I should be grateful that she went so peacefully and naturally, but I had no idea that it would hurt so much to lose her.