And in the End...
I don't know how to write this so I'm just gonna get it out and we'll see how it comes out. Around 9 PM last night, Saturday, December 12th, Blu passed away here at home after a short fight with a tragic blood disease.
When he was being released from the vet hospital back on Tuesday, we were told to expect a very long six month recovery process with this dog. Soon after getting him home, we knew we had a very sick animal on our hands. He was eating and drinking and taking his pills and moving around well enough, but you could tell he was just so tired and just wiped out. We kept checking his gums and tongue for their pinkness to make sure he wasn't losing blood again. Thursday and Friday were bad days. It became harder for him to move. Saturday, we thought, was an improvement. He pranced around the yard and even had a bowel movement. Things were looking up as that was the first positive improvement we'd seen since this whole thing began.
Saturday night, rather suddenly, he began having incredible trouble breathing. His tongue was solid white. Ryan got on the phone with the Portland vet hospital and they told us to bring him in immediately, but I think my father knew the stress of it and the time needed to get out there would kill him anyway. Quickly, Blu's breathing turned to gasps. Soon after that, the gasps became more shallow and the distance between them grew to thirty seconds then to entire minutes. Finally, after half an hour of trying to hold onto life, Blu quietly slipped away in my father's arms as he begged God to take him. Blu never ever complained, though my brother and I are somewhat sure he must have been suffering. We're terrified to think that he may have been suffering for days and we just thought it was gonna be a hard recovery.
I've never heard my mother sob like this. It's an aching sound that even the other pets know is not normal in the least. Everything around here is quiet today. Like the white fog outside, there's this fog in here too. Something important is missing and it will be a while to adjust to Blu not being here. On Monday, we're taking Blu's body to the animal shelter to be cremated.
It may have been a heart attack brought on by having little to no blood in his system. Even if we'd have gotten him to the hospital days ago, we would have seen he was getting worse and probably would have decided to put him down. Even after we did everything right to medicate Blu at home, the disease was just too aggressive for our eight-year-old companion. I think we all blame ourselves for not catching this sooner and ending his suffering a little more quickly, but we thought we were doing the right thing and giving it our best shot. At least he went in peace surrounded by the family who loved him in the house he made our home.
This is the very last photo I believe was ever taken of Blu. It was taken on Tuesday shortly after his return home from the vet hospital. It's hard to believe that the happy silly animal in that photo would be gone only a few days later. I know we did everything we could with the resources we had available and I hope he's in a better place; free from any suffering. Rest in peace, dear silly puppy. We will miss you so very terribly. So incredibly terribly.
When he was being released from the vet hospital back on Tuesday, we were told to expect a very long six month recovery process with this dog. Soon after getting him home, we knew we had a very sick animal on our hands. He was eating and drinking and taking his pills and moving around well enough, but you could tell he was just so tired and just wiped out. We kept checking his gums and tongue for their pinkness to make sure he wasn't losing blood again. Thursday and Friday were bad days. It became harder for him to move. Saturday, we thought, was an improvement. He pranced around the yard and even had a bowel movement. Things were looking up as that was the first positive improvement we'd seen since this whole thing began.
Saturday night, rather suddenly, he began having incredible trouble breathing. His tongue was solid white. Ryan got on the phone with the Portland vet hospital and they told us to bring him in immediately, but I think my father knew the stress of it and the time needed to get out there would kill him anyway. Quickly, Blu's breathing turned to gasps. Soon after that, the gasps became more shallow and the distance between them grew to thirty seconds then to entire minutes. Finally, after half an hour of trying to hold onto life, Blu quietly slipped away in my father's arms as he begged God to take him. Blu never ever complained, though my brother and I are somewhat sure he must have been suffering. We're terrified to think that he may have been suffering for days and we just thought it was gonna be a hard recovery.
I've never heard my mother sob like this. It's an aching sound that even the other pets know is not normal in the least. Everything around here is quiet today. Like the white fog outside, there's this fog in here too. Something important is missing and it will be a while to adjust to Blu not being here. On Monday, we're taking Blu's body to the animal shelter to be cremated.
It may have been a heart attack brought on by having little to no blood in his system. Even if we'd have gotten him to the hospital days ago, we would have seen he was getting worse and probably would have decided to put him down. Even after we did everything right to medicate Blu at home, the disease was just too aggressive for our eight-year-old companion. I think we all blame ourselves for not catching this sooner and ending his suffering a little more quickly, but we thought we were doing the right thing and giving it our best shot. At least he went in peace surrounded by the family who loved him in the house he made our home.
This is the very last photo I believe was ever taken of Blu. It was taken on Tuesday shortly after his return home from the vet hospital. It's hard to believe that the happy silly animal in that photo would be gone only a few days later. I know we did everything we could with the resources we had available and I hope he's in a better place; free from any suffering. Rest in peace, dear silly puppy. We will miss you so very terribly. So incredibly terribly.