Oh how I’ve dreaded writing a post in this thread… it’s time though.
My wife and I said goodbye to our 13-YR Old Husky Maya this morning; she passed peacefully in our arms without fear or trembling. Our Vet, who is a high school friend of mine, helped us through it. To honor her, I’d like to tell you her story.
On May 9th 2009, after a freak tornado came through our little corner of Virginia, why wife picked up our angel from the Siberian Husky Assist in Bristol TN, as I was home cleaning up debris from the storm. Neither one of us had any idea what an exceptional little girl she was… and how she would change our lives. My wife and I have no wish for children (if the Lord wants us to have children we will if my wife catches, but we are not trying), so Maya became our little girl.
The Siberian Husky Assist rescued Maya from a kill shelter in a neighboring county about a week before we adopted her; on her last day in the kill shelter, a compassionate person called the Assist and saved her life. She was found in Tazewell County VA wandering in and out of a farmer’s chicken coop, taking only one chicken a day (or so the farmer said); animal control came to get her thinking that there would be a problem with this animal because she had acquired a taste for blood. Animal Control saw her, pulled to the side of a country road, opened the back of the truck to get ready for her and when the officer turned to get the collar to apprehend her, she had jumped in the back of the truck! She was ready to go!
She came to us, speaking on command, sitting on command, heeling on command, house-trained, and full of love. She gave us everything she had, and we gave her everything we had.
The first 4 years were filled with normal life and dog activities; hiking, running in the rain, killing skunks (two skunks in two years at 2 AM… my wife and I washing her in the dead of night), coming inside (she was inside/outside) and loving on us, talking to us when we got home from work and telling us about her day (she whoo whooed at us) etc. She was the perfect angel. She helped me immensely through the passing of my father in 2012 from sudden and very rare cancer… she would come to me in our basement while I was crying and lay her head on my chest, she would paw me and lick my tears from my face. I loved her so much.
In 2013, before I left the US for the Middle East, she tore her ACL in a fall from our deck; she hobbled around for two weeks (wagging her tail the whole time according to my wife) until I got back and we had it repaired. Other than keeping my wife up two straight nights because of the narcotic she was on, she was good as new! Her long hike days were over, but we still piled in the car and went to our local state park (Hungry Mother) for walks.
In 2015 the strange behavior started. She began eating my socks (one-throating them as Joe Gatto says) and being very restless at night seeming like she couldn’t be still; this went on for about a year and then she ate one of my longer basketball socks and it lodged whole in her stomach and began to enter her colon (which can quickly be fatal). My Vet (same as above) got us a rush appointment at Virginia Tech and the sock was removed via endoscopy (non-surgical) and she was good as new… though the restless behavior stayed. In 2017 she ate a towel that I had sat on the top of her house (a full-size bath towel) and we one again rushed her to VT and they once again saved her life. The Vet at VT mentioned to me that she may have Cushings Disease because, along with the odd appetite, she was beginning to quickly lose her coat around her neck and belly. By the time we had the complete and accurate Cushing’s diagnosis and began treating her, she had become bald around her neck, on her belly, and on her tail (which was extremely sad). At this point, my wife and I began to resign ourselves to losing her because the treatment for Cushing’s is in some cases worse than the disease itself (loss of mobility leading to lameness in an animal that already had arthritis from the ACL tear in one leg and the buck-shot lodged in her other rear leg)… but in Maya’s case (after a scare with the meds in which she very nearly died), the treatment not only worked, but she lost the restlessness, her appetite normalized, and of all things, she gained her full double coat back (though the fur was now gray and white instead of jet black). Four times… four times her life was saved and she was given back to us when we thought we were going to lose her; when she grew her hair back, we had our little girl back!
Through all of this, she never lost her loving attitude toward us and remained as playful as she had ever been… she still acted like a puppy and still thought she was a puppy. Until November 1st… two weeks ago today.
That night, she vomited water in the floor of our living room and became extremely lethargic. We began brushing her out (as she was blowing her coat; double coated) and I noticed that I could feel her spine and ribs. We took her to the Vet on Monday of this week because she was starting to refuse her bacon and denta-sticks (which she would very quickly demand if she didn’t receive them promptly) and I knew that something was very wrong. She was diagnosed with stage 4 kidney failure on Monday… we didn’t know because she was still eating like a horse (up until that day) and her functions were just fine. My Vet told us that all we could do at this point was change her food and make her comfortable… stage 4 is hard to come back from and she could dive down-hill very quickly. On Tuesday night, she came inside, laid at the foot of our couch and tried to say goodbye to us. She talked softly and kissed us both, we laid with her and stroked her fur until she fell asleep. On Wednesday morning she began trembling violently and wouldn’t eat or drink; she came to my wife and I outside let us pet her gently and turned to look at us as we left (both crying).
I came home early with the intention of easing her suffering and facing what I had to face, but she had gotten under our deck and wouldn’t come out to me… she started to come out, then looked at me and went back to her spot. My wife and I prayed hard, talked to her through the deck, and finally got her out last night in freezing drizzle at about 9PM. We brought her inside and spent last night up all night with her saying goodbye. By this time, she couldn’t stand for very long without falling or take more than a few steps without stopping, and when she did sleep (only a total of 2-hours spit into to different periods) she began drooling blood. Through all this, she never made a sound. Just a few deep sighs when my wife and I were crying over her and our tears fell on her face and coat.
This morning, at 8:30 AM, we let her go; we knew we were doing the right thing and our Vet confirmed it. We cried over her (the Vet too I think), gave her a sedative so she would relax and fall asleep, spent five minutes crying very hard, then let her go. So peaceful is my little girl.
I’ll upload a few pictures when I can tomorrow; this screen is blurry and I’ve been up almost 46-hours. If you read this far, you honored her too and I say thank ya… thank ya big big.