Our worst fears came true this afternoon. Ken so graciously took Maggie in for a second opinion, and the lab results were crushing. Maggie is dying of kidney failure. Deramaxx was her friend and in the end, her foe. The numbers were stunningly high, and the veterinarian surmised that based on the numbers, her kidneys have been reduced to 25% of their functionality. She's vomiting almost every hour now, but always willing to please, she still manages to give a tail wag to let us know she's with us.
It's over. My hope is gone. She's going home. My sweet, sweet, girl.
Tonight we are huddled together on the floor in the green room to spend one last night like the ol' days when it was just Ken, myself, and our special girl. The Nora Jones CD is playing a lonesome but peaceful tune, and for a short moment, everything seems as it was in days long past. Except for the first time ever, she isn't staring me down for a love offering from my bag of popcorn.
Her stomach was always her sweet spot. In her youth, she once ate a half pound of M&M's from out of the trash, which sent her into a crazied euphoric sugar high that had her leaping over beds and couches in a single reckless bound. Until as of late, she became a bit more of a dare devil in her older age, swiping unattended sandwiches off the kitchen table. She knew she could always count on me for popcorn hand outs and the last piece of my pizza crust. And she was forever my faithful dishwasher helper...I loaded and she made sure to give all of the plates a hearty pre-rinse.
It burns my heart to know that she won't be able to accept a final dream spread of all of her favorite treats. She'll be going home on a very sore and empty belly. And that just doesn't seem fair. I'm miserable. She's miserable. Ken's dug half of her burial hole tonight, and he's miserable.
Tonight, misery loves company.
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1 comment:
jar said...
I am sorry.
This comment was moved by MKH from the In This Corner blog during The Great Blog Merge of 2007.
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