Good Bye Doobie Dog

After a traumatic couple of days, Doobie was put to sleep yesterday. He was part of my family for 10 years and it was sad to lose him, for myself and for my kids, but Grandma is beside herself with grief. I am scared about dealing with this and how her Alzheimer's will affect the situation.

On the way to the vet yesterday, after Doobie had fallen down the stairs and couldn't move his limbs, I knew that he would not recover. We had just been at the vet the day before, and Doobie was put on pain medicine that he would have to take for the rest of his life, so we had already been discussing his quality of life. In my opinion, it would be best not to even subject Doobie to X-rays or tests and just end his suffering. She agreed and we drove a few minutes more. Then she said "we can just leave him there while they do the X-rays", not remembering the difficult conversation we had just had.

Luckily, the doctor there was the one I like more and is more compassionate and logical in my opinion, and did not recommend tests. She said she could tell his spinal cord was injured and that even a young, healthy dog might not make it through surgery and intensive physical therapy. We decided to put him to sleep and Grandma and I stayed with him while his suffering ended.

Most of the day she wouldn't eat or take her medicine and didn't want to talk to anyone on the phone. She cried off and on throughout the day. In the evening, she did not want to watch Top Chef with us and went downstairs and I helped her call her sister who had lost her husband two days ago. Later I went down and got her eye drops for her, that she usually does when she gives Doobie his medicine at night. I told her I was going to take Doobie's medicine off her table now. She asked why and I responded that he doesn't need it anymore and I was worried she would get confused and think it was for her.

"Why doesn't he need it anymore?"

Fuck. She did not remember. And I had to remind her that Doobie had died and she started crying again. What a cruel torture.

At the end of 2008, I was reflecting on how it really was not a bad year. I remember at the start of the year feeling overwhelmed with caring for Grandma and thinking "I don't know if I can do this". But I adjusted and she really did not get any worse I don't think. I am grateful for that and have been thinking "so far so good; I can do this". I hope I was right.

Doobie Dobbie Doo

My Grandma’s dog, Doobie, has been hanging in there, but he is not doing well. He has congestive heart failure and kidney failure and allergies and is mostly blind and deaf. He follows my grandma wherever she goes and sleeps with her on her bed. He often pees in her bedroom. But she absolutely loves this dog and dotes on him constantly. I know that any little stress exacerbates her dementia and confusion, and I am often torn between wishing he would die (to end his suffering and end the problem off his disgusting urine making the air unbreathable) and dreading his death and the grief and trauma it may cause Grandma.

Mostly I try not to think about it and deal with Doobie as little as possible. I let him in and out constantly when I am home, but other than that Grandma takes care of him, feeds him and brushes him and gives him his medicine. I keep her medicine upstairs because it had occurred to me it would be possible for her to get the medicine confused. Doobie’s meds have animal pictures on the caps. He gets them morning and night and she gives them to him and marks them off on a chart we have made to keep track of whether or not she has given them. It has been working pretty well.

Sunday morning, I went down to check on her and found her shaking and crying. “I just did something awful”! She had accidentally taken Doobie’s medicine. I called poison control right away and they assured her that what she had taken was harmless to her, but it was pretty upsetting for both of us. She doesn’t want to give up any more independence and wants to feel useful. All day Sunday she kept saying she was worthless. I kept reiterating that I really hope making a silly mistake doesn’t deem one worthless, or that means she has a very worthless granddaughter.

About a month ago, he had to have some routine blood work done and I asked if he could see the vet because he had been scratching and biting a spot on his back. He had a staph infection and they gave us antibiotics. When the antibiotics ran out, he was still itching so I called and they gave him some medicine for the itching. That medicine doesn’t seem to be helping either and now he has a bloody spot on his back and is scratching all over. He looks miserable. Does he have some antibiotic resistant staph? Has my grandma been taking his antibiotics herself? So it is back to the vet today.

My husband and I have joked about just replacing Doobie with a younger lhasa apso. Would my grandma even notice? Just putting Doobie out of his misery and getting a dog that looks just like him that doesn’t pee on the carpet and need all this extra care. I could never be the one to initiate that conversation at the vet though. I cried for days when I had to euthanize my son’s fish several years ago. But I secretly wish that when I take Doobie in today, that they tell us that he would be better off humanely euthanized and then I would get my grandma another dog. It seems the route of least suffering for us all.