I come here today with a heavy heart. My constant companion and studio namesake passed away Saturday afternoon. Her problems began mid-day as she began to stumble playing frisbee. She came into the studio limping with a "what the hell?" look on her face; I thought she had something in her paw. We checked, but couldn't find anything. She lay on the studio floor for a while then went back outside, as she normally does if the weather is good. A couple of rounds with the frisbee, and my husband called me from the studio, concerned there was really something wrong - she had turned when chasing the frisbee and had fallen over. She was scared, we were scared.
When I called the vet's office, they were, of course, closed for the day. Why does this always happen? I called the emergency vet clinic mentioned in the recorded message, got their address, and we were on our way. She, for her part, was happy to be going on a car ride, but stumbled again as we were walking into the clinic. The Mr. had to pick her up and carry her in. We were thinking some sort of neurological event. Why hadn't I given her an aspirin before we left home?!? The vet, after a description of the symptoms, was thinking ear infection that led to a burst ear drum. EVEN BETTER! A round of antibiotics, and she'll be at it again in no time! Sadly, that was not the case, for her ears were good. Upon consultation with the other vet in the clinic, they decided to run bloodwork and a CT scan to see what was going on.
We never made it to the bloodwork. The CT scan showed a large mass (the vet believes cancerous) blocking her left ventricle. Her heart sac had filled with fluid, as had her abdomen. He did not think she would make it through the night, even if he did drain all the fluid from her abdomen, he predicted it would be filled again in the matter of a few hours; and, if the heart sac burst, which he believed it would, she would suffocate as her lungs filled with fluid.
What began as a beautiful Saturday morning quickly turned into the day we never want to see - we had to choose to put her down, or chance her suffocating within a few hours, and most probably before morning. So, we said goodbye to the biggest pain in the ass dog and best studio buddy a girl could want. She had a good run - she was almost 13 - but I thought we'd have several more years of adventures in clay ahead of us.
RIP Old Girl. I'm going to miss you terribly.
