Cami
Boxer Insane
I have yet to figure out a way to post something appropriate about Cami and I think it is because the end was so horrific in my eyes. As a warning I will say that what I am about to write includes euthanasia. If anyone doesn't feel comfortable do not continue reading.
Our semi-plan after coming home from the ICU with Cami was to have at least 1-2 or 3 days with her. We were given info about a vet who offers an in-home euthanasia service. Less than 24 hours after bringing Cami home I called her to get further info.
Literally within minutes of that phone call Cami went downhill. She made a never heard before noise not once but twice. Her paw pads lacked their normal pink tone and the smooshy face I was so fond of covering with kisses was cool to the touch. She headed off the couch and into the bedroom where her crate was located. She entered it which she never did unless there was a thunderstorm. If there was ever a sign this was it. She was afraid of what she was feeling or at least that is the first thought DH and I shared. In hindsight perhaps she was upset by our emotional state. The 2nd guessing is killing me. She had eaten a meal within the past hour and informed us that she had to go potty. Does a dying dog do these things?
We are thinking this is the downhill slide and it is coming fast. We needed to help her sooner rather than later. At this point, even in congestive heart failure, atrial fibrillation, not 1 but 2 types of cardiomyopathy and extremely low blood pressure along with who knows what else she still was not showing any signs of distress. No struggle to breathe, collapse or cough. No signs that we were told to watch out for.
I call her regular vet not knowing if he had been made aware of her condition since it started back on January 1st. I was told that he was in a staff meeting and could return my call in a few hours. When they took my name they put me on hold. Within seconds he was on the phone. He had in fact been made aware of Cami's condition by her cardio.
I know I was an emotional wreak and was having problems putting 2 words together but the conversation ended with us making our way there as soon as we could.
Cami would not come out of her crate by me calling her and she had started to pant. Was this one of the signs or was she agitated/upset by our demeanor? I grabbed her leash and collar knowing that she always responded to the sound. I had no plans of putting the collar on her but she looked like she expected it so I did. She walked to the front door and out being lead by me. She made it to the front patio and stopped. I told daddy to pick her up and he carried her to the truck and placed her on my lap.
The ride was filled with tears from us both and my voice trying to comfort her. Telling her how much we loved her & admired her strength. I kissed any part of her body that I could get my face too. She was so very tired. Where a normal ride would elicit a nervous girl this one was the exact opposite. She didn't have the strength to be afraid. She would look out the window on occasion but just as quickly put her head back down. I was supporting her entire 60lbs in my arms.
We arrive and DH comes to the passenger door to carry her inside. Once in the vets office we were taken to an exam room. This seemed odd to me as I had some vision in my mind of a more comfortable place that we would be saying goodbye to her. We had been in that same room 100 times. Hubby sat down on the bench and I sat next to him. He had Cami on his lap and I cupped her face in my hands trying to convey to her with all my might just how much she was loved. Not only with my voice but with my eyes & through my touch.
The vet and tech came in and he tells us how very sorry he is and how great of a dog he thought Cami was. I see the needle out of the corner of my eye and think that there should be 2. My previous and only other euthanasia experience was with a cat years ago and one injection was to relax her. The other stopped her heart. It was a calm ending for her but as expected a painful experience for us.
The vet checked Cami's gum's but didn't comment. I suppose if he found evidence that she was still fighting or that we were making the wrong decision he would have said so. DH asked how long it would take and the vet responded with "She will be gone before I pull the needle out".
THIS WAS A TERRIBLE LIE.
The entire experience seemed rushed. Within seconds of the vets response to DH's question the needle went in. I could not watch what he was doing nor did I want to but instead I focused on Cami. I wanted to be the last thing she saw on this earth. Daddy was going to be the last thing she felt as he was still holding her in his arms.
Cami started to trash about and we were paranoid. She threw her head back leaving my hands. She seem to be panic stricken. At least that was my first thought. Hubby asked what was happening and the vet replied that "She is such a tough girl. A fighter. Her circulation has slowed due to her heart not working properly and the medication is having a hard time getting to its location". He tells the tech to get another syringe. She leaves while Cami continues to trash her legs and head. Daddy keeps telling her to "Go Baby Please Go" I am nearly chanting....."We love you Cami. It's OK." Over and over....a thousand times. I am breathing in her exhaled breaths.
The 2nd injection goes in and she starts taking very short gasps. I have her face in my hands again and my face is touching hers. I see the life leave my baby. The vet listens to her heart but doesn't need to tell me that she is gone. I saw her go.
The vet asks if we would like to stay with her for a while. We didn't stay & I don't know why. The whole experience seems like a horrific nightmare. I don't know what happened but they wanted to take Cami from my hubby and he said that he would carry her wherever she needed to go. One by one they head out and I followed behind hubby watching Cami's face and limp body just hanging from his arms. We make our way to a behind the scenes area of the clinic and hubby lays Cami down on a metal table ever so gently. She was precious cargo. DH replies that she was going potty. I don't know why but I said that it was OK and perfectly normal. Vet asked the tech to get a towel to put under her but I never saw it. I only had eyes for Cami. While hubby and I both sobbed we continued to kiss her and to tell her how much we loved her. I tried to burn every inch of her into my minds eye. I buried my face into her body trying to breathe as if it were my own last breath. I wanted to smell her forever. I had the feeling as if we were interrupting something at the vets office and felt more uncomfortable than I have ever felt before in my entire life.
I touched the vets arm and thanked him for helping my girl. Hubby shook his hand. Thinking back it seems very strange that either of us did those things. We made our way to the parking lot and just sat in the truck. DH is sobbing and although I have tears streaming down my cheeks I am silent. Our girl was gone. Life as we knew it was over. Did we do the right thing? I know for a FACT that Cami would have continued to fight and would have made it from that terrible Wed's through the weekend if we would have allowed her to. While in life she was pretty much allowed to do whatever she wanted (and did) hubby and I both knew that we did not want her to suffer for even a split second. My head knows that we did the right thing but my heart doesn't know how to "think".
One of the biggest issues affecting me now is that my memory of the event seems to be entirely different than my hubby's. We shared the same experience with her at the end only he remembers it differently. I saw her thrashing. He felt it. I saw her head arch back in a way that wasn't normal. He says that she was trying to look back at him. I am haunted by what I believe to be true. The end was NOT peaceful as one is often lead to believe. I am haunted that she did in fact suffer something at the end when that is the last thing we would have ever wanted for her. I have since spoken to another vet who said that this does happen *sometimes* but that it is NOT common. There is no way to know what they feel. The drug used is an anesthetic and they literally overdose them. It should make its way to their brains within a nano second hence turning off all nerve endings. Did this not happen with my girl? Did she in fact feel something? I can't live with that. I swear I keep thinking that she was looking at me as if to say "WHY MOMMY? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?"
I am glad that hubby is not having the same dire memories that I am but he keeps telling me I am wrong. He doesn't understand that neither of us are wrong. Our memories are our own. No matter how painful and negative mine are they are still mine. I must own them.
The look in her eyes keeps flashing in my mind. Over and Over and Over. Every picture of her that I see is replaced by that last terrified look on her face. I can't erase it from my brain. I feel that I need to be punished because I didn't request a sedative first before the last injection. I feel like I let her down even though I was trying to do the right thing.
We got her ashes back two days later on Friday. I keep apologizing to a box. I can't feel her. I have not gotten any signs that she is free. I am tormented and I don't know how to go on. We are both needless to say terribly upset and devastated. After spending almost the past 7 years at home with Cami we can't stand to be here. My skin feels as if it is literally crawling off my body. I am anxious.
Every since Cami has been in my life I have easily been able to gush about her for hours on end. Now I can't think of anything to say that would do her justice. Its like I am not deserving of speaking on her behalf due to letting her down at the end.
Our semi-plan after coming home from the ICU with Cami was to have at least 1-2 or 3 days with her. We were given info about a vet who offers an in-home euthanasia service. Less than 24 hours after bringing Cami home I called her to get further info.
Literally within minutes of that phone call Cami went downhill. She made a never heard before noise not once but twice. Her paw pads lacked their normal pink tone and the smooshy face I was so fond of covering with kisses was cool to the touch. She headed off the couch and into the bedroom where her crate was located. She entered it which she never did unless there was a thunderstorm. If there was ever a sign this was it. She was afraid of what she was feeling or at least that is the first thought DH and I shared. In hindsight perhaps she was upset by our emotional state. The 2nd guessing is killing me. She had eaten a meal within the past hour and informed us that she had to go potty. Does a dying dog do these things?
We are thinking this is the downhill slide and it is coming fast. We needed to help her sooner rather than later. At this point, even in congestive heart failure, atrial fibrillation, not 1 but 2 types of cardiomyopathy and extremely low blood pressure along with who knows what else she still was not showing any signs of distress. No struggle to breathe, collapse or cough. No signs that we were told to watch out for.
I call her regular vet not knowing if he had been made aware of her condition since it started back on January 1st. I was told that he was in a staff meeting and could return my call in a few hours. When they took my name they put me on hold. Within seconds he was on the phone. He had in fact been made aware of Cami's condition by her cardio.
I know I was an emotional wreak and was having problems putting 2 words together but the conversation ended with us making our way there as soon as we could.
Cami would not come out of her crate by me calling her and she had started to pant. Was this one of the signs or was she agitated/upset by our demeanor? I grabbed her leash and collar knowing that she always responded to the sound. I had no plans of putting the collar on her but she looked like she expected it so I did. She walked to the front door and out being lead by me. She made it to the front patio and stopped. I told daddy to pick her up and he carried her to the truck and placed her on my lap.
The ride was filled with tears from us both and my voice trying to comfort her. Telling her how much we loved her & admired her strength. I kissed any part of her body that I could get my face too. She was so very tired. Where a normal ride would elicit a nervous girl this one was the exact opposite. She didn't have the strength to be afraid. She would look out the window on occasion but just as quickly put her head back down. I was supporting her entire 60lbs in my arms.
We arrive and DH comes to the passenger door to carry her inside. Once in the vets office we were taken to an exam room. This seemed odd to me as I had some vision in my mind of a more comfortable place that we would be saying goodbye to her. We had been in that same room 100 times. Hubby sat down on the bench and I sat next to him. He had Cami on his lap and I cupped her face in my hands trying to convey to her with all my might just how much she was loved. Not only with my voice but with my eyes & through my touch.
The vet and tech came in and he tells us how very sorry he is and how great of a dog he thought Cami was. I see the needle out of the corner of my eye and think that there should be 2. My previous and only other euthanasia experience was with a cat years ago and one injection was to relax her. The other stopped her heart. It was a calm ending for her but as expected a painful experience for us.
The vet checked Cami's gum's but didn't comment. I suppose if he found evidence that she was still fighting or that we were making the wrong decision he would have said so. DH asked how long it would take and the vet responded with "She will be gone before I pull the needle out".
THIS WAS A TERRIBLE LIE.
The entire experience seemed rushed. Within seconds of the vets response to DH's question the needle went in. I could not watch what he was doing nor did I want to but instead I focused on Cami. I wanted to be the last thing she saw on this earth. Daddy was going to be the last thing she felt as he was still holding her in his arms.
Cami started to trash about and we were paranoid. She threw her head back leaving my hands. She seem to be panic stricken. At least that was my first thought. Hubby asked what was happening and the vet replied that "She is such a tough girl. A fighter. Her circulation has slowed due to her heart not working properly and the medication is having a hard time getting to its location". He tells the tech to get another syringe. She leaves while Cami continues to trash her legs and head. Daddy keeps telling her to "Go Baby Please Go" I am nearly chanting....."We love you Cami. It's OK." Over and over....a thousand times. I am breathing in her exhaled breaths.
The 2nd injection goes in and she starts taking very short gasps. I have her face in my hands again and my face is touching hers. I see the life leave my baby. The vet listens to her heart but doesn't need to tell me that she is gone. I saw her go.
The vet asks if we would like to stay with her for a while. We didn't stay & I don't know why. The whole experience seems like a horrific nightmare. I don't know what happened but they wanted to take Cami from my hubby and he said that he would carry her wherever she needed to go. One by one they head out and I followed behind hubby watching Cami's face and limp body just hanging from his arms. We make our way to a behind the scenes area of the clinic and hubby lays Cami down on a metal table ever so gently. She was precious cargo. DH replies that she was going potty. I don't know why but I said that it was OK and perfectly normal. Vet asked the tech to get a towel to put under her but I never saw it. I only had eyes for Cami. While hubby and I both sobbed we continued to kiss her and to tell her how much we loved her. I tried to burn every inch of her into my minds eye. I buried my face into her body trying to breathe as if it were my own last breath. I wanted to smell her forever. I had the feeling as if we were interrupting something at the vets office and felt more uncomfortable than I have ever felt before in my entire life.
I touched the vets arm and thanked him for helping my girl. Hubby shook his hand. Thinking back it seems very strange that either of us did those things. We made our way to the parking lot and just sat in the truck. DH is sobbing and although I have tears streaming down my cheeks I am silent. Our girl was gone. Life as we knew it was over. Did we do the right thing? I know for a FACT that Cami would have continued to fight and would have made it from that terrible Wed's through the weekend if we would have allowed her to. While in life she was pretty much allowed to do whatever she wanted (and did) hubby and I both knew that we did not want her to suffer for even a split second. My head knows that we did the right thing but my heart doesn't know how to "think".
One of the biggest issues affecting me now is that my memory of the event seems to be entirely different than my hubby's. We shared the same experience with her at the end only he remembers it differently. I saw her thrashing. He felt it. I saw her head arch back in a way that wasn't normal. He says that she was trying to look back at him. I am haunted by what I believe to be true. The end was NOT peaceful as one is often lead to believe. I am haunted that she did in fact suffer something at the end when that is the last thing we would have ever wanted for her. I have since spoken to another vet who said that this does happen *sometimes* but that it is NOT common. There is no way to know what they feel. The drug used is an anesthetic and they literally overdose them. It should make its way to their brains within a nano second hence turning off all nerve endings. Did this not happen with my girl? Did she in fact feel something? I can't live with that. I swear I keep thinking that she was looking at me as if to say "WHY MOMMY? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?"
I am glad that hubby is not having the same dire memories that I am but he keeps telling me I am wrong. He doesn't understand that neither of us are wrong. Our memories are our own. No matter how painful and negative mine are they are still mine. I must own them.
The look in her eyes keeps flashing in my mind. Over and Over and Over. Every picture of her that I see is replaced by that last terrified look on her face. I can't erase it from my brain. I feel that I need to be punished because I didn't request a sedative first before the last injection. I feel like I let her down even though I was trying to do the right thing.
We got her ashes back two days later on Friday. I keep apologizing to a box. I can't feel her. I have not gotten any signs that she is free. I am tormented and I don't know how to go on. We are both needless to say terribly upset and devastated. After spending almost the past 7 years at home with Cami we can't stand to be here. My skin feels as if it is literally crawling off my body. I am anxious.
Every since Cami has been in my life I have easily been able to gush about her for hours on end. Now I can't think of anything to say that would do her justice. Its like I am not deserving of speaking on her behalf due to letting her down at the end.
