This is how Duncan looked back in May of this year, getting old but still plenty happy and energetic. Oh, how the memories come flooding back...
We got him as a cute little blue eyed pup with pink inside his ears and huge paws back in November of 1997. I don't think there is a piece of furniture in my house that he didn't get his teeth into, and we learned early on that only the most indestructible toys were safe for him as he would shred anything he could get his teeth into. We crated him every night until he was too big for that crate because he was always into something. Duncan always had a stubborn streak and he was bound and determined to do things his way. If he was done with a walk, you either carried him or waited until he was ready to go again, because he would lay down and let you drag him. He loved to dig from a very early age and his nose was always either in the ground, or somewhere it shouldn't be - like in the cat litter box or in a garbage can. He wound up with what is called 'snow nose' in huskies, where they have a pink skin stripe in the center of a black nose because he basically wore the outer skin off. When we had him neutered, he pulled out all his stitches and had to be stapled. When he got a hold of someones socks or gloves, they became confetti in moments, or if outdoors, they got buried. He was an excellent pickpocket, and so fast you would never catch him in time. And if you punished him, he'd talk back to you. Duncan was a trial, that is for sure, but you know he was also a lot of fun too.
Duncan basically grew up with the boys, pulling them downhill on a toboggan, going for long walks with them, and sleeping in their rooms. He was never a well trained or controllable dog, he could run like a gazelle and he liked to chase small animals, so when he was outdoors and unsupervised, he had a sliding lead on an overhead wire about 75' long and chained to a huge oak tree on one end and bolted through a 4"x4" post set in 800 lbs of cement on the other end. That post is bowed and the cement is a bit tipped out of the ground, because he was always a strong and energetic dog. Originally we had him tied to a chain that attached to a very heavy wooden doghouse, but at about 6 months old he started dragging that down the driveway! We are talking about a dog who would dig tank traps all over his yard, and bury a mouthful of dog food in them to see what kind of game he could attract. He killed a couple of opossums and many mice that way, and also accounted for a couple of young cottontail bunnies and woodchucks. And all that was while he was tied up! He also dug up a lot of rocks, and it was not unusual to see him rolling one the size of a bowling ball around his yard - ditto with snowballs in the winter. Anything was a toy for Duncan but he especially loved tennis balls, which he would fetch back to you and drop at your feet; and he enjoyed anything he could play tug-of-war with. Duncan loved snow and he never cared how cold it was out there. He couldn't wait to get out in the morning. He also loved to rip things, and so we gave up on dog beds indoors and putting blankets in his doghouse, because they got trashed. As a pup he would sleep in his toy box or crate, and as an adult dog he had straw in the doghouse outdoors, and a blanket on someones floor when inside. But it was not unusual to see him curled up in the snow with some on his back, happy as a lark. He was a hardy dog.
There's so much more I could tell...
Duncan was originally brought home as a companion for our Golden Retriever Honey, who had grown up with Nikki, our malamute cross. When Nikki had to be put down at about this age, Honey was lonesome, and we figured she needed canine companionship. Honey initially hated Duncan, but over time they became the best of friends. When we had to put Honey down at 7 because of an aggressive cancer, Duncan missed her terribly. He would bark and howl all day, and roamed the house at night. So we brought home another puppy; Ranger, our chocolate lab, who was as cute and happy a pup as I have ever seen. Well, Ranger tried too hard to be friends, and Duncan would growl and snap at him, so they did not immediately hit it off either. But over time they became best buds. The folks that live up the road from me have three huskies, and they love to howl, and Duncan would always join them with a high pitched soprano. He even taught Ranger to howl, his deep baritone accented by a bark a counterpoint as he wagged his tail and looked to Dunky for approval. It's not easy to be an honorary wolfie. *s*
We'd been watching Duncan age rapidly these last couple of years, going from the frisky, rowdy, and energetic dog he'd always been to a senior who was having trouble getting into a comfortable position and getting up again. But he still was basically a happy-go-lucky guy with a stubborn streak and an attitude that wouldn't quit, right up until this summer, when he began to really slow down. Still, most of that I attributed to age as he was eating well and all the rest of the body systems seemed normal functioning. At his yearly checkup, the arthritis and some little skin growths were noted, but everything else seemed about normal. So we watched and waited.
Over the last few weeks Duncan stopped eating regularly, and he seemed to grow listless. We brought him in earlier than normal and he went outside later in the morning (both dogs have insulated houses and leads on wire runs). We would have left him indoors but he would pace the house all day, asking to be let out. Duncan was becoming much quieter and more sedate than he ever had been - that husky bounce and swagger was gone. While his appetite was never huge, he became extremely picky about food. We switched brands and offered a few choice table scraps, and those were eaten, but there was no zest. While his kidneys and bowels still functioned normally, there was more urgency about getting outdoors in time, and we had a few accidents. I figured Duncan was just getting to that age where we would soon have to say goodbye, and so we just made the best of it.
Last week though, we began to realize something more serious was up. Duncan had become very listless and was refusing to eat for several meals at a time. When he did eat, he just picked at food with no interest, though he would accept and eat a treat. He still begged to be let out, and would sometimes stay just out of reach on the back yard lead (it's right outside the door) refusing to come in. He felt thin in most spots, and his coat was rough and still shedding, but his abdomen seemed somewhat bloated. I figured it might be early signs of kidney failure. When he refused to eat two days in a row, My #2 son Brian called the vet Friday morning, and got him an afternoon appointment.
We had to help Duncan into the car, he just didn't have the energy to lift himself. We had been squeezed in and had to wait a bit, and Duncan was obviously uncomfortable because he kept shifting positions. He had a sudden spasmodic bout of diarrhea on the floor of the waiting room, which was a huge embarrassment, but luckily it was all dog lovers in there that day. At least we now had a stool sample to test, which came back negative.
When we finally got Duncan up on the table (he had to be lifted) Betsy, our vet, took all his vitals and noted that he was very anemic (his gums were pale). No temp or anything else, but I mentioned the bloat, and Brian said he thought he'd felt a lump in his abdomen. She prodded Duncan around pretty thoroughly, something in the past we would have had to muzzle him for, and he winced a couple of times. The finding was grim though, two rather large masses were in there. She suspected some sort of advanced organ cancer, and named several possibilities. And now, we were going to have to make a choice.
We could do blood work and possibly x-ray him, and that would at least give us a hint of what was going on. One of the types of cancer had internal bleeding associated with it, and that might be the cause of the anemia. Surgery was not going to do much to prolong his life, since Duncan was really too old to expect a positive outcome, and of course, there is a lot of expense involved in that too. We could opt for an ultrasound test which would hopefully show what kind of cancer and where it was located to get a more full prognosis, but she warned us it would likely still be inoperable at his age and current physical debility. That ultrasound would require a weekend stay and calling in a special team, which is expensive. Had Duncan been a younger dog and a better candidate for surgery, we would not have thought twice about ithe expense, but he was so exhausted he could barely stand and his age was clearly going to work against him.
The kids and I talked it over and decided we at least wanted blood work and an x-ray. So we did that while we were there, though Brian had to carry 69 lb Duncan to the next room. It was a busy day, so the blood work took a while to get to, but we saw the x-ray right away. There was so much fluid in his abdomen that you could only see the tip of one of the masses, but it looked to be good sized from the position and what Betsy had felt inside. Betsy told us an ultrasound would not have showed any more than that because of all the fluid. The kidney we could see looked about normal but his poor spine was all worn away from severe arthritis. Normally the parts of a dog's vertebrae that point downward have squared off ends, but Duncan's were very much arched upwards, so he was definitely in some pain from that. Another thing to think about.
I think of all of us, Brian was the closest to Duncan. They seemed to have an understanding of sorts and he minded Brian the best. My youngest son couldn't bring himself to say 'put him down' yet and we were still awaiting the results of the blood work. It was busy in there, and there is just the one vet and examining room, so we decided to take him home and talk it over, and bring him back once we'd all had a chance to say goodbye. The poor dog certainly had too much stacked against him. Betsy said they would have the blood work results right around closing time, and if we wanted to euthanize him that day, we could bring him back, or do it the next morning. I knew it would be best to do it sooner rather than later, but this time the boys had to make the decision. So we took Duncan home for a last goodbye (we live about 10 minutes away) and waited for the blood work results.
I think Brian needed to see it for himself. He had to help Duncan out of the car but he was able to walk to the house on the leash. Once inside though he basically collapsed on Brian's bedroom floor and was panting in exhaustion. His eyes were all sunken in, and while he loved the petting, you could see he was uncomfortable. I left my very strong and capable son alone with his dog for a short while, and when I came back to check on them, I could see that Brian had cried, and that he understood what had to be. Brian just looked up and me and said he knew we couldn't prolong this, that it was time. Meanwhile, I had been gathering the others together, everyone who could stand to be there was going with us - Stacey (who had driven us to and from the vet in her car), and Jason said they would go. Lee and my mother were to stay home with Stacey's son Ben, who was only 5. Lee would have come, but I didn't want Ma to have to be alone with Ben, she was upset too. Frank was trying to get home but time was against us.
When the call about the blood work came, it was nothing reassuring. Duncan's white blood cell count was severely elevated, and his liver and kidney values were not good. Brian took the call and he asked Betsy if she could please stay until we brought Duncan back. We wanted it done in the office to spare those at home who would not bear to watch. And then we headed right out.
Duncan left this world peacefully, with much of his family around him, holding him and petting him. He did not suffer any more that day, poor thing. We brought him home and he now has a grave on the hill near three of the cats he lived with, and one that I had when we first moved here.
I stayed indoors and watched Ben and kept my mother company to give Lee a break. Fortunately, Frank was home in time to use the tractor's backhoe to dig in our rocky soil because it was getting dark and was pitch black out by the time they finished. I fed Ben enough to keep a 5 year old from getting too hungry, and Stacey and Brian took him out to dinner and to pick up his tux, because Ben was going to be in a wedding the next day. It was also Halloween, so he was going to trick-or-treat that next evening. We answered what questions we needed to about Duncan, but kept the emphasis on life going forward. Tears were shed many times over the next few days, but everyone involved felt we had done the right thing for Duncan. And you know, that is what matters most.
They say that animals have no feelings, and they don't mourn, but I can tell you for a fact that is not so. I watched Duncan mourn his first doggie pal Honey, and all this week I have been watching Ranger dealing with the loss of Duncan. Poor guy, he moped for several days, going through the motions of eating and so on but not really seeming interested in anything but finding his lost companion. He sniffed all through the house, nose to the floor, and he searched all over Duncan's neighboring yard, leaving his missing pal a 'pee mail' on the tree his lead is connected to, something he would NEVER do if Duncan was there. We stopped putting Ranger outside during the day and are keeping him indoors with us so that he has some company. He seldom barks now and hasn't howled, but would mostly lie in his doghouse with his head on his paws. Indoors Ranger will go look for Duncan's blanket or his favorite sleeping areas, and we'd find him curled up there alone, sometimes eyes wide open and just laying still. Just the last couple of days, after the blankets were washed and the floor vacuumed, and some big fusses were made over Rangey (he got a bath, and his allergy spots were all treated) he has finally begun to perk up. He actually played with a tennis ball the other night, that is progress.
I don't know if we will get another dog. Not right away anyway. I suggested something smaller and more manageable, now that I am kind of gimpy too. I'd kind of like a rescue, but I will leave that up to the boys. As long as they are willing to help out, and share some of the expenses and work, I won't rule out anything. I'm sure Ranger could use a playmate again, he is the kind of dog that is very accepting of others. I watched him nuzzling the kittens the last couple of nights, now that they have lost their fear of him. We'll see what happens.
So while Duncan may have left us, there is likely another furkid out there just waiting for a chance to be given that empty place in our home and our hearts. In fact I was just shown the picture of a 1 year old female Golden Retriever that a rescue agency has up for adoption...
You see, true love never really dies. It is always reborn in the next opportunity to share your life with another.
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