Happy Brfday, Minni
She would have been 10 today. I wrote this not just to honor her memory and the little pup she was, but also to help us not forget the little things, and in specific, to help others who have dogs going through the same thing. There's a Kidney Dogs support group Porchae joined a couple months back; the words of others experiencing the same thing are oddly effective and ineffective at the same time.
I hope, in some way, to help educate people about the dangers of feeding People Food to their dogs (pancreatitis). Although this didn't kill Minni, and her flare-ups were sometimes just flat out random as her disease was a chronic condition, it's something that most people don't realize the harmful effects of. I also hope to do the same about CRF -Chronic Renal Failure, though such a disease is far rarer.
It's Minni's Story!
Kidd picked Minni out when she was only 4 weeks old. - Or I should say, Minni picked Kidd out at only 4 weeks old. - It takes a while to acquire a miniature schnauzer, and we had been waiting for roughly a year by the time Minni was born on January 9, 2004. Invited by the breeders, my parents took Kidd, whose birthday was right around the corner, to choose which pup we wanted. Of all the puppies in the playpin, Minni was the only one who paid Kidd any mind. She walked right up to her and curled up in her lap. Nicknamed Star because of a star-shaped tuft of white hair on her chest, it was an uncharacteristic action for her.
I met Minni when she joined our family at just five-and-a-half weeks old - a special, surprise arrangement with the breeder due to Kidd's birthday. The date was February 18, 2004. She was a tiny little fluffball who fit in the palm of my hand with fine, salt-and-pepper curls of hair that stuck out in every direction. Her mother and father were both show dogs, and we could tell from her tiny form that she was going to be a looker for a miniature schnauzer. -We weren't wrong.
She was silent when she joined us. So timid and terrified, all she wanted to do was curl up in Pink Blanket on whoever had it -usually my mom. Pink Blanket was a simple felt blanket that she was born with; each of the puppies had one, color-coded, and it smelled of her family. We took baby steps with her, getting her first to do her puppy business outside, then to drink for the first time, then eat, then sleep in her crate. We tried to find a balance between being too noisy and too quiet so she would adjust to life with us.
Within a few days, she was playing with us - and finally making some noise! We could get her to growl just a tiny bit by playing tug-of-war with a frayed rope toy - Minni's Football. Roughly a week after that, she barked for the first time with us. It was so tiny and adorable! "Brf" she said, and then put her tiny ears and nubbin down as if surprised that had come out of her! We were so excited thereafter because her barks were rare, but soon would come the day when the opposite problem would occur!
Mommy trained Minni on her own. She researched it for months, then implemented a process of her own design. She trained Minni to go potty outside only, on demand, and in a certain designated area. She crate-trained Minni -the howls were heartbreaking once she figured those out- taught her to sit, bow, shake, speak, and talk. She learned the dividing line between the kitchen/dining room and the front room: when people were at the table, Minni had to sit at that line and go no further - a rule she abode by her whole life. In those days, she even went to Church with us, closed in a back room in her crate to keep her on her schedule of going potty every two hours. We used to call her the Holy Dog and were sad when there wasn't a reason to bring her with us anymore.
Minni proved herself to be a happy-go-lucky puppy - she was energetic, playful, loyal, confident, and loving. She picked her favorite peoples each day, and each night, it was a war between us kids vs parents where Minni slept: one of our beds or in her basket. (Which she loved, by the way. A straw basket with a soft blue pillow and her Pink Blanket.) Eventually, we won that war by attrition, and Minni would choose her own snuggle buddy for each night. Life was great and worry free; we were liberal with affection and treats, though not obscenely so. Minni was never once overweight; considering how much energy she always had, running laps in the front room, playing tug-of-war, and killing Soccer Ball in the backyard, it was pretty much impossible.
2007 - Poisoned
Thanksgiving 2007: Minni suddenly became ill. She'd been in heat, having not been spayed yet, so we knew that her stomach hurt from the cramps. Everywhere we've read to this day says that dogs don't get such cramps, but Minni did, and they were horrible; she'd scream all night while we held her. But on Thanksgiving, her mood changed.
What followed was a two-week battle to save her life. She became dangerously dehydrated as proven by the muscle spasms on her head and clicks in her jaw. She was practically lifeless, only whimpering, and it was the first time I would ever use a syringe to administer fluids to her. When we were able to get her to the vet, he treated her as though she had an infection; looking back, I don't know how he came to that conclusion when the signs were so obvious. It took another couple days for the doctor to discover the true problem: Acute Kidney Failure.
Poison, he said, was the only plausible cause, even though she also had an infection she was battling at the time. Considering we're an organic family when it comes to the yard work, and that Minni was an indoor dog, it remains a mystery how she was poisoned. Our best guess is chemicals seeping through the fence in the backyard from our old neighbors; they had an above ground pool and used chemicals in their yard work, and would drain the pool every two weeks or so, soaking a portion of our yard.
Whatever the source of her poisoning, we knew her lifespan had been severely limited; I had guessed back then by 3 or 4 years, and ultimately, that is what came to pass when you look at a miniature schnauzer's lifespan. What we didn't know was how very dire her situation actually was.
Minni's Joyful Middle Years
After that horrible bout at Thanksgiving, we were much more careful with Minni. We watched everything she did & never left her alone outside. We started adding ice to her water to encourage her to drink in the summer and cool off - a practice that she soon demanded: water always had to be fresh, and it always had to have ice if she was to drink it. We also began to encourage her doing anything and everything on her own - and I do mean everything as you'll see in the list of nicknames below. It was important to praise her for doing the right things, because that praise was what she lived for.
She soon learned that eating and drinking was one of the fastest ways to make us happy and would eat for show, pausing to look at each of us and receive her measure of praise before taking the next bite, nubbin waggling the whole time. She reveled in the few times we were able to take her for a walk; it was a rare occurrence for most of her life because of her allergies that would make her back itchy if outside for too long.
Itching was the only medical problem she really dealt with for most of her days. Considering she couldn't even drink her water without itching herself until she bled, it wasn't a minor issue, but compared to her other health problems, it was far more welcome. She occasionally threw up through these years - we would eventually learn that was a sign of chronic pancreatitis, not "normal dog behavior" as had been told to us before.
But otherwise, Minni was a rambunctious little dog. We played with her inside, took her on outings to Pet Stores instead of parks, and each night, she chose her snuggle buddy. Often mistaken for a puppy for her exuberant energy and feisty attitude with other people and dogs, her big, floppy ears were a fan favorite. Almost always, she had "One ear up, and one ear down." The down ear was actually folded in an adorable manner at the tip; we called it her Begging Face, because no one could resist it.
She learned to count to 5 during these years, learned to dance and walk like a people. She learned how to open doors and the difference between Speak! Talk! and Roof!. She picked up our habits and we picked up hers. She loved to snuggle. Loved, loved, loved to snuggle -with a people and a blanket on a couch or a bed. (Just so long as it wasn't her couch or bed.)
She had two favorite pastimes: gardening with my dad and going on Adventures with her peoples. Gardening with my dad happened every morning and every evening; I was the one who usually woke up with her, regardless of who she'd slept with. Little ears alert, the moment she heard my parents' room door open, she hopped down and "jingled" at the door. -That is, she itched her collar specifically to make a jingling noise.- I'd roll out of bed, watching her stomp in circles and press her nose to the crack where wall met door, and then let her out. Then I'd watch her tear down the hallway and listen for the swish of the backyard doggy door before returning to bed. Within a few minutes, she would return to me, a paw at the edge of my bed followed by a graceful leap onto my chest. Nose in face, nubbin wiggling, then snugggggggle. When my dad got home from work, oh the excitement! She greeted him at the door loudly, waited patiently for him to change clothes, then got super hyped as soon as he put shoes on. Sometimes she got so excited that she'd leave him behind and had to come back inside to get him!
As for Adventures, Minni would stay in the car with at least one other people and guard the car. She loved sitting in the parking lots of grocery stores or pizza places, watching all the people pass by. If they got too close, she let them know, and when she saw us returning from our journeys, there was no stopping that nubbin wiggling or the excited barks and howls until we pet her and kissed her. Minni Speed was the best part of Adventures: we'd roll the window down halfway, and she'd stick her head and chest out to enjoy the breeze. Optimal Minni Speed was between 20-40mph - faster or slower than that, and either she couldn't handle it or she was annoyed with how slow we were going! There were times when she went faster - particularly one road where the speed limit is 55. I don't know what it was about that road -Davis- but the very few times I took her that far, she wouldn't come in the car!
Nemeses
Minni had many nemeses in her life. I like to think that in her little mind, she judged herself the victor in these contests of will and territory:
Mockingbirds
Rats - Killed 9 in one day; countless more
Snakes - Killed at least 1
Mice - Killed ???
Possums
Bunnies
Other Neighborhood Puppies
Squirrel
The ultra nemesis was of course squirrel. All day, every day, she took to scoping out her backyard and securing it from the pawed clutches of Mr. Questionmark Tail and his family. Whether digging in the yard, climbing on the fence, or just eating a nut, she'd tear after him, somehow having managed the art of silencing her jingles around her neck until the last second. He always escaped, though not always unscathed. The war went on for years, endless even now, carried on by her neighboring not-really-buddies.
Chronic Renal Failure
Despite Minni's jubilant exterior, CRF ran in Minni's family. Even if she hadn't been poisoned early in life, chances were that she was going to run into it sometime down the road. When we switched to her new vet, she was prescribed a prescription diet. Her kidney values were always elevated, even if she was acting perfectly natural; it was her norm due to her disease. Her doctor, Doctor Ryals, was always surprised at Minni's good health despite the numbers, let alone her history. It wasn't until this year that we understood why.
When a dog goes through Kidney Failure, acute or chronic, in order for symptoms to show, generally 75% of the kidneys have to be damaged by then. Considering the length and severity of Minni's early ordeal, not to mention other close calls, the fact that Minni survived being initially poisoned was incredible, let alone to have lived 6 years afterward.
For the last year of Minni's life, I was with her almost every second. Only school pulled me away, and that was only allowed because I knew someone else was home with her. For whatever reason, her allergies improved, and we were able to take her on daily walks at the parks in the area; these outings quickly became her all time favorites, getting to the point that she would ask us to go, to tell us, "It's time!"
She slowly deteriorated in a gradual sense that we didn't consciously recognize. They were little changes, mostly in her energy level. For how long she could walk varied day-by-day, and at home, rather than play, she just wanted to cuddle. -Not that she was opposed to playing if you asked it of her. She'd pounce on whatever toy we offered.- Her eating became problematic, and I had to start feeding her by hand. We took to counting her Minni Foods: a full day of eating was between 70-100 Minni Foods, but often times, we could only get her to around 50 or 60.
She began to lose weight, incrementally at first as other health issues snowballed: pancreatitis, cataract in one eye, uveitus in both eyes, infected tooth that swelled up her face, and then there were her kidneys... Her space on the counter was covered in medications tracked carefully between Porchae and myself. Diligently we administered each drug, hand fed her food -now crushed so she didn't have to chew- and syringed water down her if she wasn't drinking enough. Additionally, every other day, and then later every single day, we injected fluids into her subcutaneously - that is, under her skin to keep her hydrated and help flush her system. I did the sticking and squeezing fluids in while Porchae held her and kept her calm, then applied pressure to seal the little hole. Aside from the initial stick, it didn't hurt her, but it was cold, and she hated that.
Halloween was when the downward spiral began, and I fell behind in everything, hoping against what I knew would probably happen. If we could just get her to Christmas, and then to her birthday, I reasoned. Maybe she wouldn't have to go until March... Never once did I stop to realize that I was thinking she had mere months to live, and never once did we ever think about sparing Minni treatment in the name of money.
Despite her failing health, she was still the most optimistic little friend anyone could ask for. At her levels, she should not have been eating or drinking, yet she did. What her doctor would eventually tell us was that Minni, having been ill her whole life, didn't understand that she was sick, didn't know that her stomach ache wasn't normal. It's the same sort of adjustment chronically ill people go through - I should know; you just deal with it.
When reading this, you may wonder why we spent so much time and effort, put Minni through such treatment when faced with all of these things at once. The answer is because she had so much LIFE in her. She wasn't depressed, not even sad. She was tired, but at the snap of a finger, she could become rowdy. She galloped after Squirrel in the backyard, got pumped for Adventures and Walks at the Park, begged for people food we couldn't give her. The simplest things made her happy, and we couldn't stop treating her so long as she was able to fight.
In the end, after she had shown incredible progress through November, Minni's final decline was marked by her throwing up. She'd already lost a full pound, and suddenly, she couldn't hold down even bland chicken - one of the easiest things for a dog to digest. We took her to Doctor Ryals, Minni still curious and excitable as ever; well hydrated, but another whole pound lighter. From 15.4lbs to 13.5lbs in the span of two weeks, she was losing all the ground we'd gained. We had her blood drawn and made to take her home.
She threw up in the car, despite having not eaten anything that day.
Later when we got home, she threw up again - what we think was blood. It was then that I knew, and my heart was broken. I, having been the optimistic one throughout Minni's worst episodes, let my mom take over treatment of her that night. My mom was pretty awesome: she got Minni to hold down ice cubes, which was enough to get anti-nausea medication down her so we could start feeding her again. We figure Minni probably developed an ulcer or ulcers due to the kidney disease.
That morning, I had my last final of the semester: College Algebra. I was dreading it, but I had to call the vet first to apprise her on the situation via message. Literally as I pulled into the parking spot, I got the call back: Minni's kidney values were climbing again. Due to our already aggressive home treatment, the only option was hospitalization for a week, but there were absolutely no guarantees, and if her values weren't down after that, it would be time to say goodbye.
We knew Minni wouldn't survive in the hospital, and we refused to let her go without us being there. 6 years after the initial trauma, Minni's little kidneys were all used up.
When I got home, I picked her up and didn't stop kissing her and crying. After a lot of debate and careful monitoring of her situation just in case she pulled another miracle, I finally made the appointment - Friday December 13, 2013 at 5:30 PM. Our purpose from then on was to make her comfortable and happy: no more needles in her back, no more medication except the nausea pill which allowed her to eat... We took her to her favorite store and her favorite park, let her enjoy one final adventure with her peoples. Her last meal was a dream come true: chicken nuggets from Wendy's and a Pumpkin Spice Frappuccino/WHIP! At last!
She was so excited in that room... Her whole family there around her, Dr. Ryals & her nurses -all of whom Minni adored- AND people food?! It couldn't get any better. I gave the order to do it, terrified that what she'd eaten would give her a horrible stomachache that I didn't want her to experience.
She was scared at first as I held her steady on the table, her limbs becoming limper by the second. We lied her on the table, atop her Pink Blanket that she came to us in, and I placed my hand on her heart as everyone gave her reassurances and pet her, telling her, "It's okay, puppy. It's okay." Her panic subsided when Porchae bent to become eye level with her so she could see. She could see us and feel us, although feeling was probably more of just pressure than anything. And then she was gone. No longer in pain, no longer fighting that battle just to survive.
She taught us all so much - things that we'll pass on to other people and puppies alike. More than that, she shared her life with us and gave us such joy just by being her little Minni self. We know we gave her that purpose, too: that making us happy was her goal in life, and she accomplished that well beyond expectations. Wherever she is now, I know she's happy and healthy and free of that terrible disease. I will never stop missing her, never feel like our family is complete, and I pray that somehow, someday, I'll get to see her again.
Minni's Nicknames
Minni Mouse/Mause
Mouse
Skinny Minni
Skinny Minni Teeny Punk
Teeny Punk
T-Punk
Minni Pup
Me Pup
Meeners
Princess
Tiny Princess
Princess Pooter
Princess Pooper* <-- We had to encourage everything.
Schnauzer
Schnauzer Bottom
Nubbin
Nubs
Chicken Pup
Grumpy Old Lady
Old Man Minni
Puppy
Baby
