Sydney Sue June 4, 1999 - April 27, 2009

4-26-09

I am calling our vet in the morning, I think it's time. The sores are worse. When I took off her jammies this morning, a patch of skin and fur about 2 inches by an inch and a half came off, and the skin around the wound is thin and no longer adhering to her body.  I put a non stick pad on it and wrapped gauze around her waist because I can't use tape, more skin will come off. This is so crazy. I called my group president, and she said that this will only get worse, and to do the humane thing and put her down before it does get worse, or before any of the sores get infected. To make matters worse, her incontinence is out of control, and she just lays in big puddles of pee, and the pee is no longer clear, it's a light brownish color. I can't let her suffer, its so sad to put her down when she is still doing somewhat okay, but she will never recover from any of this, so why not just let her go before it gets worse.  Best case scenario is she will only last a few weeks anyhow before the cancer itself kills her.  I am going to call the vet tomorrow, and see if he can come by after work.

4-27-09

I put in a call to the vet, and waited for him to call back.  Meanwhile, I vacillated in my decision. Maybe the sores weren't that bad, maybe I was just not caring for her well enough.  Syd kept quiet, she went outside a few times, but she mostly laid on her beds in the living room. She stared at me sometimes, like she was trying to tell me something. I just wasn't sure what that something was.  I called the vet again around noon, he was still busy. "Please don't forget about us," I told the receptionist.  Sydney Sue and I took a nap together. She wrapped my arm with her front leg, and we slept for an hour. When we got up, I called the vet again. They said it was so busy, they were so sorry, maybe I should bring her in for the vet to look at her.  Syd was so excited to go. I put soft cotton jammies on her to cover her sores, and to protect her for the ride.  She jumped up and down while I tried to lasso her with her collars.  She didn't jump into the car, so I lifted her in, careful not to touch her back. We drove down the street, and Syd stood the whole time, watching the fascinating world outside the car.  At the vet's office, we got out of the car, and walked down to her favorite potty place, and for the first time that I had seen all day, she peed and peed.  We ran into a lady who I worked with in greyhound rescue a few years before, and Syd ran up to the car door for pets, as if that was the reason the lady came to the vet.  Our friend Cindy met us just as we sat down in the waiting room. A sweet teen-aged boy, who had been eyeing Sydney Sue from across the room, came over to pet her.  He asked why she was there, and without thinking, I said, "cancer".  His face dropped, I felt bad.  I don't know why I said that.  We finally got into a room, I took her jammies off.  Dr. Speas came in a few minutes later, and sighed when he saw her. I went over my list of changes in her since the last visit, and he said, "this isn't good."  He said her symptoms were snowballing, and it was time.  Cindy cried. I was relieved, I felt so bad for Sydney Sue, and it was becoming really clear to me that she was not doing well, and would not recover. I did not want my sweet girl to suffer at all. He asked if I wanted to do it there, or in my house.  I told him that I wanted her to go in her own bed, and he made the arrangements. A girl came in, handing me the euthanization authorization.  Seeing it in print, with her name on the form, hurt my heart.  Signing it while holding the end of her leash was so, so hard.  Was I doing the right thing? Was she really ready?  I finished the paperwork, gathered my things, and got Sydney Sue up. Cindy walked her up the street for a last walk, and a potty.  Then we went home.  I fed her dinner, with a healthy heaping of peach yogurt.  Then I fed her smoked gouda cheese, sat on her bed with her, hugged her and kissed her and loved her.  Cindy took a few pictures of us that I will cherish forever.  Too soon, Dr. Speas called, he was just down the street.

sigh.

The dogs got up when he came in the yard, excited to have company.  Sydney came back inside, laid down on her bed. I was so relieved, I didn't not want to have to chase her in from outside, make her lay down so we could do this.  Dr. Speas stood outside the door, holding a syringe outside of my view. Sydney laid down her head, and I laid with her, and kissed her sweet face, told her I loved her.  Dr. Speas gave her a shot of an anesthesia so that she wouldn't feel the IV.  I hugged her and kissed her while we waited a few minutes for it to work. I told her how much I loved my sweet bunny girl, and that she was the best girl ever.  Her eyes became soft, unfocused.  She sighed.  I kissed her. Dr. Speas put a tourniquet on her leg, and gave her the final injection. I sobbed.  My baby girl sighed again, and then was just gone.

Oh, Sydney Sue, how I will miss you. You were such a strong, brave soul, and you never once wavered.  You were such a strong presence in the house, and such an alpha girl.  All the fosters quickly learned to not invade your space, and they also learned to look up to you and follow you, because you gave everyone confidence.  I could always count on you to be happy and solid, no matter how many changes we went through.  You approached life with such energy, and never hesitated to look for more adventure.  I will so miss the squirrel patrol, the lizard chasing, the foster chasing. I will miss your spots, your soulful brown eyes, your roaching on the couch, hogging the entire space.  I will miss your hooking your leg on my ankle when I walk by you, your perked ears when you think I might have a treat for you, your sleeping in my bed with me.  My heart aches for the loss of you, even though I know it was the right decision and your body couldn't fight anymore.  Your spirit stayed strong, to the very end, and I will always remember you for that, and admire you for that.  You were an amazing dog, and an amazing friend.  I love you and miss you, my angel.

Sydney Sue
June 4, 1999 - April 27, 2009