About loss and making that hardest decision

On Thursday our eldest dog Molly crossed to rainbow bridge, very peacefully, and with dignity and although she was 13 it was a truly awful day.

I described her in my Facebook post as cantankerous and independent and she was certainly that right to the end. Being the oldest she had been the only dog before seeing one after another arrive until she was one of five. I swear she actually did the dog version of rolling her eyes when a new arrival turned up and all of them got the Molly welcome which was usually a put-them-in-their-place snap when they tried to get into her face, -they had been warned.

So it was Molly took the lead role and instigator of Monty’s not too friendly welcome in my first book I’m not a Pandacow. It suited her personality and we will always have that little cameo performance as a happy memory of her.

It’s probably fair to say that she ended up ‘tolerating’ the others but was always a bit of a lone spirit. Her nickname was bogoff due to the amount of times she disappeared on walks only to turn up hours later looking really pleased with herself for having had a day out. Meanwhile we had been searching calling her and printing flyers to hand out. Eventually we knew what was going to happen and we waited for her return and saved the printer ink.

Spaniel selective hearing was always something she had but as she got older it turned into the real thing. Even with that and with failing eyesight it didn’t hold her back and she remained very much part of the gang. Last year though things started to change and she was obviously struggling on her back legs and instead of waking with the others she had her own smaller Molly walks which she enjoyed.

A growth had appeared on her side as well and we nervously took her for a biopsy fearing the worst but were delighted and surprised when the results came back that it was benign. The tumour was in her rib cage and an operation to remove it would have been invasive and the recovery quite long. We decided that we wouldn’t put her through that and while it wasn’t bothering her we decided to just monitor it.

It was around 7 or 8 months ago that we noticed changes in her and it became clearer that she was suffering from dementia. She became incontinent and would just stare into space or walk to the water bowl and then look confused about where she was. Although it was sad to see, she still had a wag of the tail but we knew that everything was getting to a point that a decision would need to be made.

Three weeks ago I went to see out vet. Luc is a lovely man, compassionate and genuine and he listened to everything that was troubling us. He asked if I’d be willing to give CBD oil a chance because he’d had some good results with dementia type symptoms and tumours which was now larger than before. Of course I agreed because she wasn’t in any real pain as such, was still eating and waddling around so what was there to lose?

Her breathing had become laboured but her coat was really thick and the temperatures were rising so we decided to cut her short. Molly has never liked being groomed….ever. As she got older she hated it and it had got to a point where it really distressed her, probably due to the dementia.

It took three of us to get her cut and it wasn’t nice but her breathing did improve pretty much straight away. It coincided with the introduction of the CBD oil so we weren’t sure what had helped but we didn’t really care as she seemed a lot more comfortable.

Fast forward a few weeks and she had really become more frail. Her legs were failing, she was more confused and bumping into things and her body clock was all over the place. She’d wake up at 4am and just toilet in her bed or on the floor. It was time.

We have had dogs all of our adult life so that awful final journey to the vets is not new to us but this situation was. Molly was still eating, still walking around and interacting with us but her quality of life was very poor. I know that if we’d have waited two or three weeks the decision would be made for us because something would have happened which would have taken it out of our hands. This was horrible because we had to make the decision that she was ready to go.

We went backwards and forwards but just when you were sure, she’d come over and lick your hand or do a little trot which made you second guess. I sent Luc a message and said it was time and when you looked into her eyes I swear she thought that too.

Our decision was painful for us before it became painful for her and I really believe that’s the way it should be. So last Thursday we took her on her last little journey to our vets where all of our dogs always love going. All of the staff there are wonderful and the whole experience was carried out with the upmost respect.

Molly left with her dignity in place and went to sleep as she’d lived….moaning like crazy when her leg got shaved….No problem with an injection but…YOU-ARE-NOT-GROOMING-ME.

Sleep tight Molls Polls.