My best friend's dog, a rascally rescued Papillon, quit eating about two weeks ago. As she had always been a picky eater, my friend didn't get too worried until the second week. Rita was also just lying around -- not her usual behavior even though she was 10 years old.
(Oddly, prior to the two-week decline, Rita started craving cigarette ashes, and would knock over ashtrays to get to the ashes. [Diane has tried to quit several times over the years, to no avail]). No one she talked to -- professional or amateur -- could explain the behavior. Rita must have known that there was something in those ashes that would help her, but what?)
The vet sent Diane home with a diagnosis of anemia for Rita, some liquid iron, and liquid food for force-feeding. Finally, Rita quit drinking water and was unable to go up the stairs, in spite of Diane's care.
On Friday night, Diane carried her up the stairs and put her in bed with her. However, over these past two weeks, Rita had chosen to sleep in a chair instead of the bed. Diane woke up during the night, and saw that Rita had moved to the chair. When Diane woke up on Saturday morning, Rita had apparently used up the very last bit of her energy and had gotten in bed right next to Diane -- which she'd never done before. She would lie in the bed, but never right next to Diane. Who knows what happened to her before Diane adopted her...
Rita was still warm that morning, but her eyes were wide open, with no sign of life. Neighbors came over to certify that Rita had died. Diane is, of course, devastated and is feeling guilty that she didn't do enough. My feeling is that the vet didn't do enough. Nevertheless, she keeps re-living that moment of waking up with her dear doggie at her side, lifeless.
So, if anyone feels like sending some healing energy to her, it would be most appreciated. She is very private with her grief, but I know how badly she is hurting.





Two things are in abundance in the universe: hydrogen and stupidity.




