Lena's Story

Lena’s Story

Lena was going to be 14 on June 9, 2005. She died one day after Valentine’s Day of that year – not bad for a “pit bull.” During her lifetime she had been pretty healthy and like most dogs of her breed she was a non-complainer. I noticed through that last fall and winter that she tired easily, but she kept trudging along. Several weeks before her diagnosis of lung cancer, she followed me through the snow to feed the birds. I kept teasing her that she was old and fat and she needed to exercise more and like the good dog she was she stepped up the pace a bit. I didn’t know I would only have her for a short time.

I brought her to Francie on Feb. 4th because she had a tooth abscess and I wanted to see if we should pull the tooth or save it. Well, it wasn’t the tooth that worried Francie – you see she hadn’t seen Lena for a month or so and she noticed a dramatic change in her appearance that, I, in the day to day didn’t (or maybe didn’t want to) recognize. Her chest x-ray confirmed her doctors’ fears – she had advanced cancer that had spread to her lungs and a large mass that was pressing on her trachea. When I asked how long it would be, Francie was kind and said several months. It was 11 days. I was faced with a choice, euthanize her immediately as the cancer was inoperable and untreatable, or take her home and keep her comfortable – a hospice program. I was not ready to let go and most of all neither was Lena. So we went home with steroids to help ease her breathing. It seemed almost immediately her condition declined: she began to gag from the mass pressing on her throat so I would give her injections of steroids once or twice a day to help open her airway a little more. Our walks were slower and shorter and at night I slept in the living room with her so I could comfort her and give her a shot during the night if she needed it. If she had a hard time catching her breath, I would prop her up on a pile of pillows. I also used “Wee Wee Pads” under her at night (she couldn’t always hold her urine when she coughed – we all know how that can be).

On days when she didn’t feel like eating her regular dog food, I would cook her steak or hot dogs or buy a roast chicken at Genuardi’s. The key to this is to feed them whatever they will eat – it is not important at this stage to worry about nutritional value – it’s all about the calories. Oh yes, and when she wouldn’t drink I would giver her fluids under her skin to keep her hydrated and most of all comfortable. She was at work with me one of her bad days so I could keep an eye on her – someone came into the office and told me “you know what you have to do – she is suffering.” Well, I must admit I was resentful at that statement – because I know my dog best and she was not ready to leave just yet. If you decide on hospice for your pet, you will come across these well meaning statements from family, friends and strangers. Every day her breathing got worse and I agonized over when was the right time to kill my dog. No matter how justified and welcome that’s what we think: “I am killing my dog.” I would think it was time and then she would have an OK night. That last night I knew – and so will you – that it was time; the steroids were no longer working and she would not touch food or drink. That morning my mother came down, kissed her on the head and said her goodbyes; I carried Lena to the car and into work and laid her on a blanket behind my desk. She liked coming to work so it wasn’t a bad thing for her. She sat with me for a few hours and then it was time. I took her into the quiet room and waited for Francie and Liz to come in and say goodbye…and then it was over.

Am I sorry I didn’t euthanize her immediately? Not at all … she would go out in the yard and sit with her daughters and lay with the cats – she had her ups and downs, but until the last 48 hours more ups than downs. Death, like life, is a process we have to see through from beginning to end and that’s what hospice care really is – the final process of life ... dying.