LuckyNumber7
01-03-2008, 05:33 PM
They say bad things come in threes - I certainly hope that we don't have any more deaths occur for a while after the 3 we've been through lately.
Gabe was so, so special. I first saw him while looking through the website of the high kill shelter in Tennessee that my rescue group pulls dogs from. His name, at the time, was listed as "Lurch". I remember thinking how cute he was, and asked if we could pull him and try to find him a great home. A few days later, I found out that we had, in fact, pulled him from the shelter and he was now at our vet clinic in Tennessee. It turns out they named him Lurch because of his abnormally large head, which they thought was funny, but didn't think anything of it. It turns out that Gabe had a case of hydrocephalus (water on the brain). He was the equivalent of mentally retarded - mostly blind, not very coordinated, but the sweetest little thing. Loved to be held, loved to snuggle in your arms, and loves to play - would wag his tail if you talked quietly to him.
We struggled with the decision in terms of what to do with Gabe. Other than his vision, he was asymptomatic at our vet clinic - no seizures, not in any pain, happy little guy. There were experimental surgeries that could be tried, but from what the vets told us, implanting a shunt in a dog that small almost never worked, and could actually make him worse. We didn't want to euthanize a happy dog who loved life so much - it didn't seem right. At the same time though, we couldn't adopt him out, the vets told us that in some cases hydrocephalus can correct itself, but that in his case, they didn't feel like he would ever recover. He would inevitably start to decline, and when he did, it would be fast.
I talked to my fiance, and we decided to take him. I had been laying awake at night, thinking of this little 8 week old chocolate lab, locked in a cage - I couldn't deal with the idea of him spending his entire short life behind bars. Even if he wasn't going to make it, I thought that he would be happy here. I intended to spoil him absolutely rotten for as long as he was alive. I promised everyone involved that as soon as he started showing signs (seizing), we would have him euthanized, as no one wanted him to suffer.
Gabe arrived here on December 8th - tiny, wriggling, and precious. His head was huge, and his eyes unfocused, but he was perfect. I prayed that he would have many good weeks, maybe even months, with our family. We had bought him a new collar and made him a tag with his name and our address/phone numbers on it. As long as he was with us, we were going to consider him "our" dog, and wanted him to feel like part of the family. Our dogs, Lucy and Molly were constantly by his side - they knew that something wasn't right with him, and they were very protective of him.
A few hours after he arrived, he got very, very tired. He had been playing in the yard with our dogs, so I figured he was just worn out from exercise. We brought him to our local pet store to buy him some toys - while we were there, Gabe started drooling. I knew something was wrong. We got in the car immediately to bring him home, and while on my lap he lost control of his bowel movements. He wasn't even aware that he had gone to the bathroom, the poor thing. We got him home, and as soon as I cleaned him up and wrapped him in a blanket, he started seizing in my arms. It was the most helpless feeling in the world, watching his twitch and spasm. I called our lead rescue coordinator, hysterical, and told her what was going on, and we agreed that in a couple of hours, if he hadn't stopped, I would bring him to the emergency vet clinic near us and have him PTS. We didn't want him to suffer. I was a mess, and stayed on the phone with her, with him in my lap, petting him, trying to calm down. I don't know if he knew I was there or not - I hope he did. While she was talking to me, I watched him stop breathing. At first I thought I was crazy, so I called my fiance out in to the room, and he confirmed it - he died in my lap. I was petting him and telling him what a good boy he was, and I hope he heard me.
I wish so desperately that he had more time here, but I feel like maybe he passed away quickly to spare me the pain of becoming more attached to him. I hope that however brief his stay here was, he knows how loved he was, and how special he was to everyone involved in his life.
Below are some pictures of little Gabe. We love you, little guy.
http://i37.photobucket.com/albums/e64/ifallapart/MollyGabeArielLucy.jpg
http://i37.photobucket.com/albums/e64/ifallapart/GabeToy.jpg
http://i37.photobucket.com/albums/e64/ifallapart/GabeSweater.jpg
http://i37.photobucket.com/albums/e64/ifallapart/GabeSweater1.jpg
http://i37.photobucket.com/albums/e64/ifallapart/GabeSnow.jpg
http://i37.photobucket.com/albums/e64/ifallapart/GabeSnow3.jpg
http://i37.photobucket.com/albums/e64/ifallapart/GabeSnow2.jpg
http://i37.photobucket.com/albums/e64/ifallapart/GabeSnow1.jpg
http://i37.photobucket.com/albums/e64/ifallapart/GabeMollyCuddling.jpg
http://i37.photobucket.com/albums/e64/ifallapart/GabeLucySnow.jpg
more to follow...
Gabe was so, so special. I first saw him while looking through the website of the high kill shelter in Tennessee that my rescue group pulls dogs from. His name, at the time, was listed as "Lurch". I remember thinking how cute he was, and asked if we could pull him and try to find him a great home. A few days later, I found out that we had, in fact, pulled him from the shelter and he was now at our vet clinic in Tennessee. It turns out they named him Lurch because of his abnormally large head, which they thought was funny, but didn't think anything of it. It turns out that Gabe had a case of hydrocephalus (water on the brain). He was the equivalent of mentally retarded - mostly blind, not very coordinated, but the sweetest little thing. Loved to be held, loved to snuggle in your arms, and loves to play - would wag his tail if you talked quietly to him.
We struggled with the decision in terms of what to do with Gabe. Other than his vision, he was asymptomatic at our vet clinic - no seizures, not in any pain, happy little guy. There were experimental surgeries that could be tried, but from what the vets told us, implanting a shunt in a dog that small almost never worked, and could actually make him worse. We didn't want to euthanize a happy dog who loved life so much - it didn't seem right. At the same time though, we couldn't adopt him out, the vets told us that in some cases hydrocephalus can correct itself, but that in his case, they didn't feel like he would ever recover. He would inevitably start to decline, and when he did, it would be fast.
I talked to my fiance, and we decided to take him. I had been laying awake at night, thinking of this little 8 week old chocolate lab, locked in a cage - I couldn't deal with the idea of him spending his entire short life behind bars. Even if he wasn't going to make it, I thought that he would be happy here. I intended to spoil him absolutely rotten for as long as he was alive. I promised everyone involved that as soon as he started showing signs (seizing), we would have him euthanized, as no one wanted him to suffer.
Gabe arrived here on December 8th - tiny, wriggling, and precious. His head was huge, and his eyes unfocused, but he was perfect. I prayed that he would have many good weeks, maybe even months, with our family. We had bought him a new collar and made him a tag with his name and our address/phone numbers on it. As long as he was with us, we were going to consider him "our" dog, and wanted him to feel like part of the family. Our dogs, Lucy and Molly were constantly by his side - they knew that something wasn't right with him, and they were very protective of him.
A few hours after he arrived, he got very, very tired. He had been playing in the yard with our dogs, so I figured he was just worn out from exercise. We brought him to our local pet store to buy him some toys - while we were there, Gabe started drooling. I knew something was wrong. We got in the car immediately to bring him home, and while on my lap he lost control of his bowel movements. He wasn't even aware that he had gone to the bathroom, the poor thing. We got him home, and as soon as I cleaned him up and wrapped him in a blanket, he started seizing in my arms. It was the most helpless feeling in the world, watching his twitch and spasm. I called our lead rescue coordinator, hysterical, and told her what was going on, and we agreed that in a couple of hours, if he hadn't stopped, I would bring him to the emergency vet clinic near us and have him PTS. We didn't want him to suffer. I was a mess, and stayed on the phone with her, with him in my lap, petting him, trying to calm down. I don't know if he knew I was there or not - I hope he did. While she was talking to me, I watched him stop breathing. At first I thought I was crazy, so I called my fiance out in to the room, and he confirmed it - he died in my lap. I was petting him and telling him what a good boy he was, and I hope he heard me.
I wish so desperately that he had more time here, but I feel like maybe he passed away quickly to spare me the pain of becoming more attached to him. I hope that however brief his stay here was, he knows how loved he was, and how special he was to everyone involved in his life.
Below are some pictures of little Gabe. We love you, little guy.
http://i37.photobucket.com/albums/e64/ifallapart/MollyGabeArielLucy.jpg
http://i37.photobucket.com/albums/e64/ifallapart/GabeToy.jpg
http://i37.photobucket.com/albums/e64/ifallapart/GabeSweater.jpg
http://i37.photobucket.com/albums/e64/ifallapart/GabeSweater1.jpg
http://i37.photobucket.com/albums/e64/ifallapart/GabeSnow.jpg
http://i37.photobucket.com/albums/e64/ifallapart/GabeSnow3.jpg
http://i37.photobucket.com/albums/e64/ifallapart/GabeSnow2.jpg
http://i37.photobucket.com/albums/e64/ifallapart/GabeSnow1.jpg
http://i37.photobucket.com/albums/e64/ifallapart/GabeMollyCuddling.jpg
http://i37.photobucket.com/albums/e64/ifallapart/GabeLucySnow.jpg
more to follow...