So, I had to have my dog Roy euthanized because he had Lymphoma, and the only treatments for that are palliative. He had not been eating well for the past few weeks, but I kept putting off taking him to the vet. (I have a very limited income, and have recently been having problems with being able to afford groceries and other necessary things.) Eventually, with some help from my sister I was able to find a company that would drive you and your pet to the vet, and set up an appointment.
First attempt at getting an exam (because of course it would take two) did not go very well. This is mostly in the sense of interactions with the vet in question. This was an expensive place where I was only able to get an initial exam. (I had asked for an estimate of prices for the various tests he’d need. I had also asked her to give me notes from her examination, but she did not give me notes. Just the estimate.) Unhelpful doctor did mention that cancer might be one of the possible issues, but not in a way that would indicate “you had better be making plans.” That was on Monday. The only good thing: Driver was a sweetheart.
I spent Tuesday of this week trying to figure out who would be best to call, while also being terrified for Roy, who was now refusing food. I was scared, and also extremely out of it. I was eventually able to pick a new clinic (There is a teaching clinic for a University.) Then I canceled my Wednesday group.
Wednesday was much better, though my driver this was a Big Pharma Conspiracy Theorist. In this situation, the driver told me to “call when I was ready.” Which I assumed meant “call when I was ready” but she thought meant “I will wait for you for two hours then complain about it as If I had any control over how long the exam process was at a TEACHING CLINIC.” I had to pay her the full amount and she kept getting pissy with me because I was trying to get things done efficiently since she needed to go pick up a different client, and this was somehow Rude. Next, I had a mild kerfuffle with the transport company because I was to neurodivergent to deal with my transportation situation though that was resolved.
The student vet was nice, and the general atmosphere showed a lot of care for the situation. They did the exam and the financial department worked with me on my various options. It turns out that I qualified for their “hardship” program, so I was able to afford the visit and the tests. (That is, they were free, and I’d only been paying for the ride.) She did the initial exam under the supervision of a clinician. Then they took Roy off to get his tests done.
When they came back the student doctor and then the clinician explained the situation and my options. Roy most likely had cancer. They weren’t sure yet, but only in the way that it was the most likely possibility. That it was Lymphoma, which only has palliative treatment options that might not even work. I knew then what I was going to have to do, and did not want to do. I wouldn’t be able to afford it, and it would just be more painful for Roy, and also myself. He was also at the point where he was actively refusing food. Even treats. His eyes were swollen, there were huge bulges around his throat. He was blind and lethargic and the the tiredness was just going to get worse. I was afraid if I took him home from the vet, the stress would kill him faster. I did not want to wake up to Roy being dead in his crate. I would scream. I would scream like a banshee, and not be able to figure out what to do with the body because I’d be too busy screaming.
So I went for euthanasia. Euthanasia that very day. Because again, he did not like the second trip to a vet, and was super stressed by it. And would be stressed by the trip home. They let me have some time alone with Roy. I ended up crying all over him. Roy mostly set his head on my leg, ears perked in my direction as he tried to figure out what was wrong.
I was not able to actually watch him get euthanized. I didn’t want a pawprint, or his ashes. (If I could have gotten his skull, I wouldn’t have said no to that. Bones somehow seem more concrete for a memorial, as opposed to ashes or a pawprint.) They let me go back out to the lobby, and I arranged a trip with the transport company. (I got the first driver again. I really think he was the better driver than the second one, who I hope never to get again because good grief.)
Went home and felt miserable. And I still feel miserable.
Some highlights from Roy’s bratty Pitador (Lab/Pit Mix) life:
- When he was a puppy he managed to completely trash the plastic tray on the bottom of his crate, and then went on to eat the floor. I ended up getting a metal tray and a very big, thick industrial-type rug, just in case he suddenly became able to chew through metal.
- I bought two “giggle balls” for Roy and he was utterly terrified of them because they didn’t giggle, they made some horrible possessed bird/cat noise.
- When he was a brat, I used to threaten to replace him with a cat, or tell him I’d replace him with a black chihuahua who I’d also name Roy, and tell everyone he’d shrunk in the wash. As you do when your dog is a total gremlin.
- It took maybe two years to teach him “lie down,” and he only learned stay in the context of “do not charge at me when I’m trying to give you your food.”
- He would “back talk” when I told him to settle down. That is, he’d lie down, but keep barking at me instead of settling down. (This was usually followed by him bouncing up and doing a play bow.)
- He did not know “heel” but he did know “let’s go,” and “hurry up.”
- I referred to his tendency to howl mournfully at odd times (usually at night) as “singing the blues.”
- He tried to tell me about the Deck Chair Theft Incident, but I thought he was just barking at the local stray cats.
- If he didn’t understand a command I would be trying to teach him, he’d hopefully “sit,” as if that was the default right answer, He’d get increasingly pissy if I didn’t acknowledge his great accomplishment of Doing the Thing
I am going to miss my gremlin dog.
Also, I’d like to give a shout out to Midwestern University’s Animal Companion clinic for their kindness and generally amazing “bedside manner.” They neither flinched from providing the most likely prognosis for my little man, nor did they fail to provide kind, empathetic space for dealing with my choice for Roy. The financial people were as kind as the student doctor and clinician, and did their utmost to assist me with going over the payment options.
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