Saying goodbye to Sadie...

(Sadie, with Mark, last year).

Who knew that the passing of a dog would be so much harder than the passing of a cat? Sadie is finally nearing the end of her days. She has had issues with her hind legs since she was young, and has had severe arthritis for the last two years. We chose to put her on drugs rather than put her down. She has been virtually pain free since then. But the cost of those drugs was the health of her liver and probably her kidneys. She's had regular blood tests to monitor her organ function. And then she showed signs of anemia at her last vet check and Mark began baking up liver treats for her. She liked those for a few months, but then began just letting them drop. "No more, please."

We also could be suddenly dealing with something entirely different. Cancer?

She has been going up and down these past six months, but this weekend it appears she's not coming back up. She's decided she no longer wants to eat at all, and she tosses up anything we do get into her. She's not just being picky, as she has in the past. She's saying "no."

So Mark called Anne, our vet, to let her know we will be needing her to come out some time in the next day or so. And we have stopped trying to force food down Sadie.

When cats get ill, they don't seem to expect anything of you. It's their own dying, and they are going to do it their way. With the cats who have passed from my life, it was clear when it was time to go.

But Sadie (who is sleeping here in the den with us right now) still is pretty happy about her regular routine things. She still wags her tail, still wants to go for her walks, even though "a walk" now is just a short excursion off the porch. She can still, just barely, make it up the steps. But if she stumbles on the way down, she stays down. She doesn't even try to get up until Mark sets her on her feet.

But she's dying. It's clear she doesn't want to go. But the body has just reached its end. She still shows no sign of pain, but her back legs don't bend and she drags her feet due to the arthritic stiffness. She's grown much weaker just today. Her lack of eating doesn't seem to be due to depression. She seems alert enough. She's just decided...no more food.

Dogs are so expressive. They relate much more directly to the actions of humans. They expect so much more, and feel that much more is expected of them.

I think she feels puzzled that she's not able to do what she thinks is expected of her. Go for her walks. Ask for her treats. Annoy Mark by coming over to push her head under his hand if he dares to talk to a cat. She just lays on her bed, and goes in and outside when we invite her to. She chooses to be in the same room as we are, so at least she's not avoiding us.

We wonder whether she'll be with us in the morning.

We are blessed that we have a vet who will come out when we need her. That isn't always an option in this day and age.

It's going to be awfully lonely around here.