When I wrote--not so long ago--about the issues regarding euthanasia,
I didn't realize how quickly they would apply to me. As I wrote those
words, I was battling a months-long problem with Lady Noir. She had
started to lose weight, was obvious weak, and her breath was horrible.
Both my vets and I thought it was some type of infection or blockage.
Oral problems were immediately ruled out. Lady had been consuming bones
for most of her life, and her teeth reflected the cleansing properties of
soft bone and had minimal plaque, no fractures or serious wear, and no
gingivitis. All oral tissues were normal in color, and no swelling.
Lady's throat looked a little swollen, so we took an x-ray to be on the
safe side. The x-ray really didn't tell us much; there might have been
something going on, but it was hard to tell. To be safe, we decided to
start antibiotics, and Lady responded well.
For a while, at least. She was responding so well that she was slated to
be removed from the hospital cage and returned to her home with the rest
of the business. With hand feedings of Bob's Chicken Gravy, she had
gained back the half-pound she had lost. She had done that "I'll only
eat if you feed me" thing like some ferrets do, so I was taking my time
and was not too worried about getting her out of the cage.
Then, last week her breath turned nasty again and she stopped eating.
I took her back to the vet, but this time the x-ray showed a large
abdominal mass. A few more tests and we knew exactly what was wrong:
lymphosarcoma. We looked back at the first x-rays to see what we had
missed: a small area above her abdomen adjacent to her vertebrae about
half the size of a grain of rice. We were looking for a blockage or
foreign object, or even evidence of infection in her neck, and the spot
was so small it was overlooked as an artifact caused by overlapping bone.
Lady didn't have a chance, yet we started some chemotherapy in an attempt
to relieve some of her symptoms. Three days ago, Lady started showing
neurological symptoms, having a difficult time voiding and defecating,
and some difficulty walking. Powerlessly, I watched as the problems
crept up her body. Early Sunday morning, she stopped blinking and was
having constant minor seizures. The decision was made and Lady was
released from her pain. A necropsy was immediately done, partially
because I am compulsively paranoid about ADV, and partially because the
fresher the tissue sample, the easier it is to identify cell types.
Both the gross and microscopic inspection confirmed lymphosarcoma, which
had grown into the spinal cord.
Lady Noir was a sweet gift from a sweet lady, and I adored her dark
little nose and sparkling eyes. She would hook her canines over my
finger and I would lift her up--claiming loudly she was biting me--and I
would ruffle her fur and blow on her nose and off she would shoot like a
black rocket. She would perch on my shoulder to inspect my ear canals
and occasionally nip the back of my neck. She loved to tease, and if I
ignored her, she would carefully pull my sock until I relented and lifted
her up onto the paradise of my desk. I like to keep my basement cool in
winter, and I wear an old lab coat to keep warm, and Lady loved sleeping
in the right pocket, occasionally popping her head up to inspect a
strange noise, or sniff the air to identify a bone I was working on.
I cannot describe how much I shall miss her leaps from my shoulder to my
desk. I only wish she could knock over a Pepsi onto a pile of bones one
last time. I'm going to miss that little lab rat more than I care to
admit.
Bob C
[Posted in FML issue 4432]
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