Making Tough Decisions

The reason we have the "one at a time" in our tagline is because realistically, we can't save them all. But it won't stop us from trying to save the ones we can.

It was nearly 9 pm when I got home from my board meeting last night. Ryan was in the house, having already bathed all but one puppy with dish soap to kill the fleas. They had been fed and most were curled up together behind my toilet. Not exactly the place I would have chosen, but they felt safe in their little refuge. One puppy was still left in a box. You could see the fleas running all through his white fur. One eye had some discharge, and his gums were pale. He was half the size of his siblings, most definitely the runt. He made a little whimper, not much, but just enough to say he wasn't sure what was going on but knew he had no control. I figured from the bloated bellies of the other puppies that he was suffering from hookworms and roundworms on the inside and all the flea bites weren't helping either. I put him back then ran outside to finish packing Betty's van for the expo so they could get on their way back home to the islands.

I came back inside and decided to go ahead and bathe the little one. I already felt like he wouldn't make it through the night, but decided to at least try and make him as comfortable as possible. I put him under the water and he began to drink just as fast as his tiny tongue would let him. We finished the bath. I warmed some puppy milk for him and we dropper fed him. He finally got the idea and decided he could take it from the bowl himself. It was now 10 pm and I had so much left to do for the expo. I sent Ryan home to get some rest since he would have to be up at 4 am. His boss isn't near as forgiving as mine if I come in groggy. Of course, that's the biggest reason I didn't go forward with my acceptance to the Coast Guard Academy.

I went about my evening, finishing prep, refilling water bowls, and checking on little Rybo every 30 minutes. He seemed to be sleeping fine, as all the other puppies were. I put him in a cage by himself with a big fluffy blanket and left him water and puppy milk just in case he wanted more. I checked on him again before I crawled into bed at 1:20 am. All seemed to be well.

The first wake up call was at 3:48. Not uncommon with puppies. I got up, and Rybo had finished off the milk I left him. I picked him up, swaddled in a small towel, and held him against my heart, knowing that often comforts lonely puppies. In 20 minutes he was back asleep. I put him down and walked out of the bathroom, stepped over a few dogs stretched outside the door, and crawled back into my bed for a cat nap.

The next wake up call came at 6:30. I wrestled with myself about getting out of my warm bed into the cold hallway since the windows and doors only block the winter air but don't keep it out completely. At 6:50 I decided to get up and go check on him. This time, he was squealing. I picked him up and held him again. It seemed to help. I warmed up some more milk and put it down in his crate then put him back in. He was quiet for a few minutes. I walked to the bedroom and decided to go ahead and start my day since sleep was just not going to be possible now. I took my kids outside to do their thing, then let two more of the bigger dogs out. It was now almost 7:30. I went back in, and knew something was wrong. He was in the corner of his crate, trying desperately to get out. I went to pick him up, and that's when it all started going downhill. For the next thirty minutes I watched the puppy version of the Exorcist while I waited for the vet's office to open.

I knew it was my responsibility to make the decision in his best interest. He was suffering, and I had no idea how long this had been going on before I got him or how it would affect him later if we pulled him through once. I got ahold of Crossroad Animal Hospital. They've been my personal vet for nine years and have treated our CPR pets for six. I told them I just needed to come in and have a puppy put to sleep as soon as possible. I have enough of a relationship with them that they understand these decisions are not reached lightly and must be urgent if I have. I arrived a few minutes before 9, gave a very quick rundown, and off they were with little Rybo to ease his suffering and send him to the rainbow bridge.

Driving to work wasn't easy. I hurt for Rybo, but I was still so angry that someone let this happen. I understand it's part of the circle of life, but it never gets easier the more I do it. I pulled out my camera and looked at his pictures I shot last night. I hope he has finally found some peace.