Much like Morrison, Angus started having seizures quite suddenly on October 11th- two months to the day after we said goodbye to Mo. His were different than Morrison's; they weren't grand mal seizures where his whole body shook. I'm embarrassed to admit that it took me nearly an entire day to figure out what was going on because I never actually witnessed one of his seizures, I just saw the aftermath which came in the form of copious amounts of drool which just wasn't all that unusual for Angus.
Once I finally figured out what was going on we made a trip to the vet right away. Our awesome vet, Dr. L, was super sympathetic and handled my hysterical crying quite well. She felt that we could control Angus' seizures with medication so I left with a prescription for phenobarbital (a common anti seizure drug) and a hopeful heart. Things started looking up for a while. The phenobarb and potassium bromide (which we added a few weeks later) seemed to be doing the trick. The seizures had stopped, but there were still signs of deterioration in Gus' health. He started having night terrors where he'd wake up in the middle of the night screaming (literally!) and would be so freaked out that he'd wet the bed. After lots of googling, I learned that many veterinarians believe night terrors to be a form of seizures. Angus gradually became more withdrawn and spent most of his days and nights on his dog bed in our bedroom, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the busy house.
We still got brief glimpses of the old Goose occasionally- a playful spark that would have him chasing a ball around the house or wrestling with his daddy, but most of the time he just seemed to keep growing older before our eyes. During the last few weeks he started to loose control of his bladder and bowels and it became very hard for me to keep him and our house clean. Matthew and I began discussing the inevitable- we knew the time was coming but it just seemed way too soon and we weren't ready. I think we were both secretly hoping that he would just pass away quietly and we wouldn't be forced to make this horrible decision for a second time in just three and a half short months.
Thanksgiving weekend was rough and we both knew it was coming soon. On Monday November 29, 2010 I looked into my second baby's eyes and knew it was time to let him go. He was tired and things weren't improving. We'd stopped the seizures, but they were just a symptom of the real problem, most likely a brain tumor. I called the vet to make an appointment and arranged to have my in laws come over to watch the kids. Matthew and I drove Angus to the vet. He rode in my lap and shook the whole time like he always did whenever heading in that direction. Our amazingly compassionate vet met us in the parking lot to give him a sedative. I got to continue holding him in my arms in the car until his shaking had subsided and he'd calmed down. Once we brought him in, the whole thing was mercifully quick. We knew just what to expect this time since we'd been down this road way too recently, and with heavy hearts we said goodbye to our boy for the last time.
I hate to look back on those last few months of Gus' life and remember him that way. I want to remember the little tiny 9 week old puppy that I brought home in May of 2002. A puppy no one else wanted, who'd been sent to the bulldog rescue agency because he had been dropped or stepped on and had a broken growth plate in his leg that required a few thousand dollars worth of surgery. The once broken puppy who learned to race around my living room in circles with his newly fixed up leg. The puppy who actually BROKE a television after launching himself at the animated animals on the screen! The little rascal that Morrison grudgingly accepted even though Angus used to nip at his ears and his hind legs until a fight broke out.
I will remember the Angus who adapted well to his new life in California, who loved the beach and the dog park as well as the mild climate- just perfect for bulldogs! The best snuggler ever with the occasional leg humping session thrown in. An indiscriminately loving dog who welcomed Matthew into our lives and our home and adopted him as a daddy. The dog who loved to sleep on my head and my pillows until we finally kicked him off of the bed for good once we moved to Virginia!
I will remember the indefatigable Gus who used to roam the beach at the lake house in North Carolina; retrieving Morrison's tennis ball when the water got too deep for Mo, biting the waves as they broke on the shore, and charging Matthew in the water when he got splashed.
I will remember the stoic dog who I heard yelp only one time in eight and a half years (when I accidentally scooted the dining room chair onto his foot and sat in it!) The sweet Gus who endured thousands of ear pulls, pokes, and smacks from our two young children with almost no resistance.
I will remember the loving and wonderful dog who was a part of our family for eight and a half years and a part of my heart forever. We love you Gus, and we will miss you always.
Angus Martin
March 1, 2002 - November 29, 2010
1 comment:
Just read this today...so sorry.
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