This is probably the most personal blog that I have ever written – but I wanted to share the experience I have faced with my own dog being diagnosed with a terminal illness, the sudden shock of losing him at far too young an age and the overwhelming grief that hit me more than I ever expected it to.
On Monday 21st February 2022 I took Rufus to the vets as we noticed he was drinking and weeing excessively. We went with the thought that he was potentially diabetic and that he may be on medication for the rest of his life. They did a routine blood test, and then we went home like it was any normal day.
Except an hour later I took a phone call form a lovely vet who said his blood test results were in and it wasn’t good news – Rufus had Stage 3 Chronic Kidney Disease – they went on to say that there was nothing that could be done to reverse the damage done to his kidneys and that the best we could do was to manage the progression and to try and make him as comfortable as possible.
The devastating blow was that it was terminal and we were told to expect anywhere between 4months and a year left with him. He was 8 years old – we were supposed to have years left with him and yet we were suddenly faced with the prospect of him not seeing another birthday, another Christmas, not being there when and if we started a family. It hit us like a tonne of bricks!
That night I hugged him tighter than I ever had done and made him a promise that I would do anything I could to make him comfortable and keep him out of pain.
The next day I rang and spoke to our vets and asked for a referral to a specialist – it’s not that I didn’t trust our vets but I wanted to know we had done everything that we could have done – a bit like a GP giving you a diagnosis and then going to see a specialist consultant to get all the facts.
24 hours later – 48 hours post diagnosis – we were sat in the waiting room at Davies Specialist Vets in Hitchin waiting to see an Internal Medicine Specialist.
We met a lovely vet called Polly who gave us all the facts we needed to know, they sent him for extra blood tests and for internal scans to rule out for definite any obstructions and any signs of cancer. That day sat in the waiting room from 8:30am to 6pm that evening was the longest day of my life – Was he okay?
What was going to happen next?
After a very long wait Polly came back out with Rufus – who looked tiny and tired and scared and wanted nothing more than a cuddle and reassurance – she said the good news was there were no signs of cancer or an obstruction. The bad news it was as Hampden had diagnosed, he had Stage 3 CKD and other than manage his diet to keep his kidney function as strong as possible there was nothing we could do.
In that moment I felt helpless, upset, angry, guilty – Why hadn’t I noticed it sooner? What had we done for him to get this horrible disease? It was my job to look after him and keep him safe and I felt like I had failed.
He spent the following day back at Hampdens on a fluid drip which they wanted to keep him on for 3 days to flush his system – unlike humans dogs can’t have dialysis for kidney disease – the best we can do is an IV fluid drip to try and hydrate them as much as possible. Some of you may have heard me mention in the past that Rufus had separation anxiety, he didn’t like us leaving him and he certainly was not a fan of the vets. As expected I got a phone call around 4pm to say he was too stressed for the fluids to be doing him any good and could I go in and pick him up.
We were now left with one option which is the diet management. Rufus was always a fussy eater and changing him to a medicated diet left me sceptical. The vets gave me their opinion on what foods I could try but I wanted to do a bit more research and ensure I had looked at every possibility. I went and visited Kathyrn at McGrumpy & Snuffles who gave me the best advice and all the options out there and within the next 12 hours we changed his diet to a specific kidney friendly diet.
Well, the first two weeks went well he scoffed the food down and you could see a visible change in him. His eyes were brighter, he had more energy, and he was drinking less – but of course it didn’t last and soon enough he was refusing to eat. So we had to adapt to a 90% renal diet with 10% of what we would eat as he needed to keep his energy up and not eating was going to be a fast slope of decline.
Every 4 weeks he had to go to the vets and have regular urine samples – luckily he generally preferred a ‘lady wee’ so was easy to collect – and blood test to check whether his levels had increased or decreased. With each visit he got better at going with the nurses to have his blood taken and I couldn’t be prouder of how we coped with it – it became a regular treat that we would then go to the café and he’d get a sausage for being so good.
Over the next couple of months his levels remained stable – the only noticeable difference was that he had a decreased energy level and got tired more quickly out on a walk.
In June myself and John went on our belated honeymoon to America and Rufus was stable with no indication of decline. Unfortunately, two weeks later when we got back home there was a visible difference to the dog that we had left.
He had lost a significant amount of weight, he didn’t jump up at us when we got home and he didn’t want to get up and leave his bed. The following morning my husband placed him on the bed with me when he went to work and we slept and cuddled for an hour. He then jumped off, went to have a drink of water and instantly threw it back up – my heart sank. In that moment I knew that we were reaching the end and that I had to get him to the vets.
I took him to the vets that morning knowing that the outcome probably wouldn’t be good news – on the journey there I looked back round at him and could see in his eyes he was giving up his fight. I saw a lovely vet who listened to all of the signs I had explained; refusal to eat, not keeping water down, behavioural changes. She said they would do the blood tests to be certain but gave me the devastating news that we were down to our final tow options. Option A – Give him a fluid injection under the skin that would give him 24-48hrs to live or Option B – Try with the fluid therapy again and potentially have anywhere between 72hrs and 3 months with him.
I went with Option B – I needed to give him every chance that we could do. They took him in and gave him anti-anxiety medication to help with the separation anxiety and to keep him as calm as possible to allow the best chance of success.
When I left the vets I broke down – we’d been away and my darling boy had been getting weaker – I rang my husband and told him the devastating news and went home to begin what I thought would be a long waiting game.
I saw a couple of friends and tried to keep busy but he was always on my mind – had I down the right thing leaving him at the vets? Did he think I had abandoned him? Was I causing him more suffering? I decided to call the vets and go and pick him up but was told that we was calm, doing well and responding to the fluids so I decided to let him stay there a little longer.
Less than an hour later and I had another vet ring me to say his blood test results were back. They were the worst he had seen in a dog and he didn’t know how Rufus had survived and that we were now down to hours left with him rather than days or months. It felt like I had been hit by a truck. I didn’t know how to process the news or what to do so I went into practical mode, had a cry and then tried to push any emotion to one side. I now had a job to do – I had to go and collect Rufus, spend what little precious time we had left with him and do what was best by him.
Luckily I wasn’t alone – I got driven to the vets and the nurses brought Rufus out to me. He was completely high on anti-anxiety medication but he knew I was there and he buried his head into my neck and he cuddled tight in – he knew I was there.
I brought him back to work where my husband met us and we spent a precious hour just cuddling and telling him it was okay and that he didn’t have to fight for us any longer. We took him outside to sit in the sunshine and enjoy the last moments he had as much as we could do.
Within the hour we knew that he didn’t have any fight left in him and that we were spending time with him for us and to keep him with us as long as we could do – we made the tough decision that the kindest thing for Rufus was to take him back to the vets and have him put to sleep.
The drive back there was a horrible eerie silence, we didn’t know what to say. When we got back Ed came and met us in the car park and took us through to a back room where we could have the privacy to say goodbye. We laid him down on the table on a fleece blanket. Ed asked if we were ready – no we weren’t but he was – he administered the medication that would allow him to pass. Rufus took one last look at me and John – we were there with him, we reassured him, and he passed away quickly and peacefully.
Leaving the vets without our dog was possibly one of the hardest and most upsetting moments – as we left there was a tiny 12wk old cockapoo puppy who had come in for his second vaccination and it almost felt like a ‘circle of life’ moment.
I was in a place where adrenaline was keeping me going so I carried on with all the practicalities that had to be done. I informed our family and close friends what had happened. I also rang a private crematorium to arrange his cremation – Dignity were amazing and supportive.
I tried to avoid going home for as long as possible – after all he had been a part of our life for 7 years – our home was merely a house without him there – it felt empty and cold without him there. When I got home I broke down – who knew there were so many tears inside!
The next day I woke up feeling empty and sad but I had to get up an take my other two dogs out for a walk. That first walk and coming back home without him was hard and devastating. I never realised before how the loss of someone you loved could hurt physically – but it did – my heart hurt from losing him.
When I got home I laid in his bed and I cried – this turned out to be something that I did each morning for the first two weeks of leaving him.
The next few days I went into work as I needed to keep busy and distracted. In hindsight it probably wasn’t the healthiest of ideas as I felt a huge surge of emotions and I ended up taking these out on the people who I saw each day and who were only trying to be there for me.
If I’m honest I didn’t expect to feel the surge and strength of emotions that I did. Yes of course I knew I’d be upset but it was such a mix of upset, anger, guilt. In truth I felt a lot of these emotions towards by two beautiful dogs who were still here. My feelings towards them only lasted a few days – they weren’t Rufus and he was the only one I wanted – this added to the guilt that I felt. Obviously I should add I love my two dogs dearly.
About 4 weeks after Rufus was cremated we got his ashes back from the crematorium and it kind of let like we had him back home with us – obviously in a different way but it gave an element of comfort. I knew where he was and I knew he was safe.
Something that I didn’t account for was how long my emotions and my grief would stay with me for and what I’ve learnt is there is no right or wrong as to how you should feel and how long it will last. After the first couple of days I felt people expected me to be over how I felt – after all he was only a dog right – WRONG! Losing a dog is like losing a family member and everyone is allowed to deal with it differently.
I started to become harder on myself and tell myself I shouldn’t still be feeling this way and that I should be over it. For those first two months I felt completely alone - I convinced myself that no-one wanted to hear about it or listen to me going on about Rufus anymore – when in reality people did care and were always happy to be there and support me.
It’s coming up to 3 months since losing Rufus and the pain and the grief is still there but I now manage it differently. I can think of the happy times we had with him but there are still moments that a wave of grief hits – like the other week, I left work after a long day of teaching and thought how lovely it will be to get home and cuddle him on the sofa, then it hit me, I can’t! I’m also waiting for those ‘first’ hurdles to pass, the first Christmas without him, the first holiday without him. I know they will be tough but I’m learning that it’s okay to express when these feelings come.
Something that I haven’t yet touched upon is my other two dogs – grief can and does affect our dogs too. Both of my two dogs reacted very differently to Rufus passing.
Murphy had been with him for the two weeks we were away so will have seen him deteriorate and of course smelt it on him. When we came home without him those first few days he didn’t act very differently – it was quite a normal occurrence for Rufus to go and stay with friends for a weekend. However, as the days passed there was a change in him. He’d look past us when we got home to see if he was there, he became cuddlier, he needed more reassurance – so that’s what we did. We gave him the things he needed – he had also lost someone. He’d lost the dog that had been there from the day he came home and he was grieving too.
Coco hadn’t spent as much time with Rufus and had a different relationship with him versus Murphy. Instead she fed off of my emotions. When I cried she sat at my feet and cried with me – she was far more in tune with how I was feeling.
What it has taught me is that grief affects us all in very different ways – people and dogs alike – there is no right or wrong way to grieve and there is no allowed time frame. The best piece of advice I would now give is to do whatever feels right for you and your dog – that’s the only thing that matters.
Tash McCue - Trainer
