Daisy’s Ordeal
by Amy
Page 2 of 3
The Emergency Vet is only about a ten minute drive from our house. Annette had the forethought to call the Vet from the car and let them know we were coming. This was so smart and helpful. When we arrived they whisked Daisy in and I quickly signed an authorization for them to start treating her. It was somewhere between 12:00 - 12:30 am. The Veterinarian quickly came to ask us what happened to Daisy so he could better assess her. We relayed the story. He then went back to examine her further. About 15 minutes later, maybe less, he returned to let us know there was definitely some brain trauma. I knew that was coming, but when I heard it I couldn’t help thinking that Daniel must feel horrible because he left the door open. I did not want him to feel bad. I looked at him and could see he was stiff with worry. I offered that he probably closed it enough and reminded him that Daisy was an expert at nosing doors open.
The Vet then launched into telling us his recommendation for hospitalization overnight until they could get a neurologist to examine her. We agreed that he could make those arrangements, so he went to gather the info for us and kept monitoring Daisy. Daisy was still intermittently howling and crying. That was very hard to hear. Now it was a little longer before the vet came to see us again. I think it was around 1:00 - 1:30 am. This time he said she was having a hard time getting oxygen into her bloodstream, so they did a sonogram to investigate and found a large, bleeding mass on her spleen. He said this was the biggest reason for her quickly deteriorating condition. The fall and concussion were secondary. That’s when it felt like the floor fell out from under me and all the walls in the room crumbled. I felt like I was suddenly outside in some strong wind and someone was yelling at me through that howling wind, but I couldn’t hear them.
I barely heard what the Vet was saying. In fact, I wanted to just cut him off. He was doing what he is supposed to do…give us all the options. But I knew it was over. Especially when he said, “I’m afraid that her prognosis is grave.” So I interrupted him and said, “It’s okay. We talked about this while you were in the back and agreed that we need to let her go if things are that bad.”'
The Vet then started to explain the process of euthanization. No tears yet, but I looked at my kids faces, then to Jon, then back to the Vet. We were all in a state of shock. The Vet then left to prepare things for the procedure. The Vet Assistant came to settle us into the “Family room” where the procedure would take place. It was decorated thoughtfully with big comfortable chairs and cushions. Tissue boxes on the side table, and a wastebasket already partially filled with the previous family’s tear-filled and discarded tissues.
They rolled Daisy in on an examination table. She was laying on her left side and had two catheters in her front right leg. She was in a coma, barely responsive. Not moving, but sensed when we touched her. A Hospital blanket and the blanket we brought her in were draped over her body. The soft fleece sweater she was wearing had been taken off and was folded and placed next to her. The Vet and Vet Assistant told us we could take as much time as we needed to say goodbye then showed us the “doorbell” button we would push to let them know we’re ready to proceed.
We surrounded the table. We all started gently petting her. I touched her head and stroked her ear. I immediately thought of getting a clipping of her long hair. Jon had some small scissors. We took a little from her ear and from her tail. I tucked the treasure into a pamphlet, folded it and stuck it in my pocket.