Life with Jasmine and Juliet, Our Rescued Dachshunds

Random notes on our experience with our two rescued miniature dachshunds

She’s Gone

on February 26, 2018

I know I haven’t written on the blog in some time. I guess I should have, because then you could learn more about the aging process. Looking back, I can’t believe it’s been a year and a half since Jasmine starting showing signs of age and decline. And on Friday, February 16, 2018, we made the terrible and loving decision to put Jasmine to sleep.

Jasmine the Dachshund

One of my favorite pictures of Jasmine

When we first adopted Jasmine, my husband Tom suggested I get the youngest of the rescued Dachshunds so I’d have a better chance for a longer time with the dog. I remember he said, “I know how attached you’ll get.” What he didn’t bargain for was how deeply attached he was to this love of a dog. We are both devastated. But Jasmine was “my” girl…we had a special bond from the very beginning. When she finally trusted me, which really didn’t take too long, she was my shadow. All she wanted was to be with me. That sounds a bit egocentric, but it’s true. I was her sun and moon. And she…she was mine.

As I started to detail in the post The Sadness of Aging: Canine Cognitive Dysfunction, Jasmine has been showing her age. Jasmine was incontinent, and she also started wandering around the house, sniffing and pacing, more and more often. She had times where she would stare off into space, with a vacant look on her face that I had not seen before. She started banging into things as well, so we knew that she was losing her eyesight. It was sad, but she managed well and still was a happy dog. She had her routine. She had us.

Last August, we moved. We downsized our house to a one-story house with a lovely deck and yard. We now had a walkable neighborhood. It was a good choice for us, but it took Jasmine some time to adjust. By this time, she was completely blind, and all the new smells, the new layout and the chaos of packing and moving…it was a lot for her. However, over the last six months, Jasmine had adjusted well to the new house. She found her way around. I made sachets and put some scents in different areas—in the kitchen, near the water dish, near the couch—so she could better find her way around. While the Canine Cognitive Dysfunction (CCD) was getting worse (she was wandering more, her incontinence was getting worse), it was still relatively easy to manage. She was with me every day, and she loved her routine.

A couple of months ago, Jasmine started to drink water excessively and to urinate more. Her incontinence got significantly worse—she was wetting the pads up to three times a day. We found a local vet and took her in for tests. She had a UTI, but worse, her blood tests suggested she had Cushing’s Syndrome. The Vet suggested we clear up the UTI and then put together a diagnostic plan.

Jasmine had finished the antibiotics for her UTI. She seemed fine. She had two bouts of loose stools, but nothing else. Her incontinence was bad. We had to do one or two loads of laundry every day, washing incontinence pads and blankets from overnight, during the day, and in the evening. But again, this was more inconvenience than a huge issue. We knew we were moving forward with diagnostics and a treatment plan.

Then, it happened. I went out of town to visit a friend, and a day later, Jasmine was greatly lethargic. She was barely eating. Tom took her to the Vet on Monday morning, but they didn’t have anyone ‘in’ that morning. Seriously? They referred us to another Vet, and Tom took her there. She had a raging 105-degree fever. The Vet put her on an IV, gave her IV antibiotics and that reduced her fever. But she was lethargic and wouldn’t eat. Blood tests and an x-ray didn’t show anything diagnostic. The Vet suggested we take her to a 24-hour emergency clinic so she could get round-the-clock care. Tom took her down immediately. In the mean time, her fever had spiked again, she had black diarrhea, and was listless.

She was so sick…so tired

I was able to hustle home the next day, and Tom picked me up from the airport. We went to the emergency clinic so I could see Jasmine. She was ‘better’ according to Tom, but what I saw was an emaciated Jasmine who barely sat up. I held her and she fell asleep in my arms. She did take treats from my hand—a great sign. Her fever was down, and she was improving. She was scheduled to have an ultrasound the next day to see if they could determine the cause of her infection.

The ultrasound could not pinpoint the cause of her infection, but it did show clear signs of Cushing’s Syndrome. She had a highly enlarged Adrenal gland. The doctor guessed that her Cushing’s was caused by a Pituitary tumor, and given her other symptoms, he hypothesized that the tumor could be invading her brain. She’d need an MRI to confirm the diagnosis and to develop a treatment plan, but he thought a potential course of action would be radiation treatments.

However, he still could not explain her infection and black stool (an indication of blood in her upper GI tract). He said she was well enough to go home since she was eating a bit and her fever was down. So, we took her home. The next day, Thursday, she ate a little, drank some water and mostly slept. She still had black stools. She also was alert for a short while. She didn’t seem to have a fever. But there was no improvement.

Friday, she was worse. She was refusing water. She wouldn’t eat. It was a struggle to get her meds down. She wouldn’t take treats. She was barely awake. She didn’t respond to touch, to my voice.

We called the emergency clinic, but they wouldn’t allow us to talk to any Vets without coming in for a ‘recheck.’ We had just paid them over $1600 for 48 hours of care. I was disgusted. We called the other Vet who had taken Jasmine on with no hesitation. The emergency clinic had already transmitted her records back to the Vet, so she went over them and told us, honestly, that even if we took extraordinary measures to get Jasmine over this infection, her prognosis wasn’t good. The test results indicated the Pituitary tumor, and with the totality of her symptoms over these last months, it was a probability that the tumor had invaded her brain.

The Vet said that while we could take measures to extend her life, we also had the choice to humanely end her life. And I told her that we didn’t want Jasmine to suffer. So we brought her into the office an hour later.

The Vet and the techs were supremely kind and careful. They sedated Jasmine so she didn’t feel anything. Jasmine slept peacefully through it all. I cradled her and whispered to her the entire time. I told her what a good girl she was and how much I loved her. And then she was gone.

Yesterday, we got a card from the Vet with her paw print. Today, we went over to pick up her ashes. I’m numb. I keep looking over to where she always cuddled up on the couch, burrowed in her blanket. I look down and think of her little face, excitedly awaiting her “Good Girl” treats. I listen for the tick-tick-tick of her nails on the hardwood floor. I look around to find her. And she’s gone.

Jasmine was with me for over a decade. She brought me joy every day. She connected with me and touched me like no other.

She was mine and I was hers. And she’s gone.


Run free, my little love

2 responses to “She’s Gone

  1. […] To read more, please go to: […]

  2. Holly Young says:

    I’m so sorry Margaret. I have been where you are, and the pain almost sometimes doesn’t seem worth it. I say ALMOST because if you had never rescued Jasmine she would still be gone today – nothing changes that, but look at all you and she would have missed out on. I’m so glad that she had someone like you to give her a full and happy life.

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