48 hours have passed since you left. I look for you every time I walk into the kitchen, but you aren’t there. I wait to hear your excited snorts as I walk down the stairs, but I hear nothing.The silence is deafening.
Your grandma stayed with me Saturday night. We made popcorn and watched Moana. Tyr and Freya caught the rogue kernels that popped out of the pot. You would have loved it.
I’m so tired, Odin. I can’t sleep. All day I’ve been surrounded by people and distractions. When I finally crawl into bed at the end of the night I cry. I cry myself to sleep just to wake up an hour or two later. I know it would kill you to see me this way. Please understand I’m trying my hardest, but I miss you so much.
Sunday I got into my car for the first time since I dropped you off. I could smell you. I saw the stains left behind. I tried to scrub them out, I tried to get the smell out of my car. It won’t fade. I rubbed dryer sheets all over the seats and floor. I vacuumed your hair off the seats. I found your rawhide under one of them. You know, the rawhide I brought with you when we first did x rays. I cleaned your nose prints off the window.
Turns out the dryer sheets and I don’t get along because I broke out in hives. The doctor prescribed me the same exact dosage of prednisone that you were on.
The den has been closed off since you departed. I have only been able to bring myself to go in there once.
The place you slept for the past 7 months is empty. Your bed is gone. That’s what i carried you out on. I leave the shutter doors open to the porch so the sun can still beam in just as you liked. Your grandma had to wash your food bowl. It was half full with your last meal. I accidentally called your name today when I called Freya and Tyr in from outside.
I’m mad at you. I’m mad that you left me. I know your body was tired. I know you couldn’t fight anymore. I know I did the best I could to save you, but it doesn’t change that fact that you’re gone.
I keep asking myself “what if?”. What if I hadn’t taken you in on Friday? Would you still be here? Did I put the stress on your body by dragging you in?
People keep telling me what a great mom I was to you and how I did more than most people would. But even after the months of picking you up off the floor by myself and being your support as you learned to move around with 3 legs, I feel like I failed you. I can be reminded every day that I was “such a great mom” but it won’t change the fact that I feel I failed you.
I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.
I would give anything to run my hands through your coat one more time and wrap my arms around your neck.
I feel some people don’t understand how I feel and believe I’m being over dramatic. I never imagined how much pain my heart would take on when you’d finally say goodbye.
When is this pain going to alleviate? When will I make it 24 hours without crying? You always came running when you’d hear me cry. You always licked my tears away and laid your giant block head in my lap. Freya tries so hard and I love her for it, but it’s not you.
They aren’t my Odin’s kisses.
I miss you so much.
After the x-rays Odin started his antibiotics to fight the pneumonia and he responded very well to them. His cough was gone within a few days, but his breaths were still shallow. He lost interest in eating his kibble so I opted for something better. I began mixing canned food in with it and he perked up but never finished the bowl. He would start eating then suddenly stop as if it made him sick. I didn’t push it on him but always left it out. I could tell getting up to move about was tiring for him. There were only 2 more episodes of blood dripping from his nose and then it stopped.
The past couple of days Odin was tiring faster. He would make it to the garage to go outside and then he’d lay down. I’ve spent a lot of time picking him up and helping him out to go potty. His gums and tongue were still so pale. I began worrying about internal bleeding. I brought him to work with me yesterday afternoon to re-run his bloodwork and see where we were at compared to last week. His PCV had dropped to 22%. Upon examination his belly did not show the signs of a ruptured organ. His doctor said it was very possible that the cancer was killing off his red blood cells which would explain the pale gums and shortness of breath. I sent out blood for a CBC and full chemistry and took him home.
Odin died this morning.
I came downstairs at about 7:00 AM and he wasn’t lying in the kitchen. I looked into the den and he wasn’t in the doorway. I started my coffee, stared at the doorway to the den for a while then decided I needed to just go in there. It was going to be fine, he was going to be lying on his bed waiting for me to come get him up to go potty.
He was lying on his bed. I called his name, he didn’t move. My heart started pounding as I yelled his name, then screamed it. He didn’t move. I walked quickly towards him then turned around and walked out of the room. My hands were trembling so much as I tried to call my husband and then my mom, I nearly dropped my phone. My husband is out of town on a trip with his friends, he is two hours behind so he was sleeping, I called my brother in law hoping he would pick up but he was also sleeping. I called my mom immediately after and as I was telling her what happened I felt like I was going to vomit and I became light headed.
After what felt like an hour, but was really only a few minutes, my brother in law called me back and then woke my husband up so I could talk to him. I told him the news and ran through my plan of what I was going to do. He was absolutely heartbroken. I told him I had it under control, not to worry and try to not let it ruin his trip.
After I hung up I went to get the baby so she could have her morning bottle. I sat on my couch in silence as she drank. I saw a car pull up in my driveway, assuming it was my mom, I got up to answer the door. My aunt was standing there. My mom had called her because it was going to take 40 minutes for her to get to me and she knew I needed someone to just take control. I handed my daughter over to her then finished making my coffee. We sat on the couch until my mom arrived.
After letting Freya and Tyr come in to see him, I wrapped Odin’s puppy blanket around him and the 3 of us moved him into my car. I drove him to my work where my co worker helped me carry him in on a stretcher. I took a few minutes to make a paw print that I will be getting tattooed on my ankle tomorrow.
I ran my fingers through his fur one last time and buried my face in his neck as I hugged him tight.
Then I said goodbye.
The emptiness I feel right now is beyond anything I could ever put into words. The pain I feel is crippling. Everytime I turn around he’s not there. I walk into the den and his bed is gone. What am I supposed to do now? He’s gone. I will never be able to kiss him again, I’ll never get to pet him again, I’ll never get to hug him again. What am I supposed to do? I’ll never hear the pitter patter of him gimping around the house again.
I miss him so much. So freaking much.
I feel so lost without him.
Odin’s cough wasn’t getting better so I decided to bring him in to work with me Friday morning. His surgeon was going to be there doing an orthopedic procedure on another dog so it was good timing. I got ready for the day and went out to load up the car before bringing him out. I came back inside to find blood on the floor. Immediately I yelled “WHO IS BLEEDING”. My mom rushed over to help me assess all 3 dogs. Freya has a little blood splatter on her face but it wasn’t her own blood. I looked at Odin and he had a trickle of blood coming out of his nose. I panicked. I said a few choice words as my mom tried to calm me down. She told me he had made a snarfing sound about 10 seconds before I came back in from the garage. He was still wiggling and extremely excited to be coming with me.
I loaded him up after assuring my mom I was okay. By the time I hit the highway tears started falling as my adrenaline came down. I stopped at Starbucks knowing I needed a caffeine fix before taking on this already hellish day. As I waited in line I thought to myself “If this ends up being his final day on earth with me he is going to enjoy Starbucks too”. I got him a pup cup and we both sat in the back of my SUV with the hatch door open, taking in the crisp morning air, enjoying our morning treats together. There was blood streaked across the hatch door and on the windows from his nose.
We pulled into the parking lot of my clinic 15 minutes before my shift started. I knew I’d need a little extra time to get him inside, pull myself together and brief my co workers on the events of the morning. Once everything was said and done, Odin went into his kennel that he has come to know well. It was business as usual for the first two hours of the day. I was in assisting the surgeon with the procedure as my boss and other co worker took x rays of Odin’s chest. From what I heard, he was a very good patient. Once the procedure was over I got the dog off the table and into recovery. My boss and the surgeon were looking at the xrays when I came back into the treatment area.
Back in June when the amputation happened we took a shot of his chest to confirm that the cancer hadn’t spread.
As you can see, he was clear.
The xrays that we took Friday told another story….
Odin had developed aspiration pneumonia. From what, we are not sure. He could have aspirated during a vomiting episode. Towards the lower part of his lungs (upper right of the picture) there was some concern that the cancer had spread. I sent his rads to a radiologist at the University of Minnesota for a consultation. Now all we could do was draw some blood and hope for good news.
So we decided to go through some charts
And raid the toy basket in the lobby
It was finally time for our lunch break so I loaded him up to take him home. He was greeted by plenty of sniffs and kisses from his pack. His nose had finally stopped leaking blood at this point. I had a sandwich with my mom and little girl, kissed the pups goodbye then headed on back to work with hopes that the consultation would be back.
The consult was sitting in the emails waiting for me. I opened it, held my breath and read the results. The radiologist confirmed that Odin has pneumonia and suggested starting some antibiotics ASAP……I can work with this. No big deal! But there was another note….
“Multiple pulmonary nodules, consistent with pulmonary metastatic disease, presumably from the reported chondrosarcoma”
My chest tightened, my throat felt like it was closing. I made up new swear words in my head. I broke out into a sweat.
It has spread.
My year and half has turned into a few months.
His blood work confirmed infection, but it also backed up the metastasis as well. I came home that night and delivered the news to my mom and my husband. We are all devastated, but we know our Odin is a fighter. He wasn’t interested in eating his dinner but took his medications with no protest, like the good boy he is then snuggled into his bed for the night.
(He may have cancer, but that doesn’t stop him from digging in the trash and then doing a very bad job at not looking guilty)
I was terrified I would find him dead this morning as I descended the stairs, but he was waiting for me at the baby gate, wagging that little butt of his and a smile on his face. There was blood on his blankets and some on the floor in the kitchen. He ate his breakfast, took his meds, gave me a kiss good bye and I headed into work. I came home at 1 to his happy face again as well as the other 2 goofballs. He spent a lot of today just resting in the kitchen, his coughing is still present but he doesn’t let it stop him.
I plan to soak up as much time with him as I can, but I am also preparing myself for that fateful day. I feel very lost. I want to reach out to people but I can’t find the words. I’m exhausted, I’m sad, I’m angry, I’m hurting. Why does he have to go through this? Hasn’t he been through enough? I mean honestly…..give the guy a break. I want to contact his breeder and rip him a part for not breeding responsibly (not that it would have prevented the cancer, but maybe his orthopedic issues). I want to place blame because maybe that will make me feel better about the fact that I’ve been watching my best friend deteriorate and there is only so much I can do about it. The worst part of all of this is that he just looks at me with love in his eyes. He probably feels awful, but I’m more important than anything else to him. He has dedicated his life to me and I can’t save him. I’ve done everything I can. I want to tell him I’m so sorry, but he won’t understand because in his eyes I can do no wrong.
Why can’t I just be more like him? So forgiving. So trustful. So happy even though he is sick. Why can’t I be more like my dog?
What do I do now?
Wow, life sure does happen doesn’t it?! It’s been almost a month since the last post but thankfully there hasn’t been much going on with sweet Odin. He’s fully healed and is about 80% with the adjustment to walking with 3 legs. I can tell he still tires quickly.
He was having a bad week where he vomited every day, but that has seemed to solve itself. He has also figured out that I hide his pills in his food, so I have to go check to make sure he took them. He’s so sneaky for such a giant beast.
This last week he has developed a cough or hack. At first I thought his throat was just irritated from his rawhide treat. Except after 3 days it was still happening. Another possible reason is I irritated his soft palate when I had to force-pill him because he was extremely against taking them on his own. A part of me is very nervous that the cancer is starting to attack his lungs. I know it hasn’t been long since the amputation, but the mass in his leg appeared only 2 weeks after his knee surgery so I wonder if the rate of metastasis is faster than I had hoped. He will be going in for x rays at the end of this week if the hacking doesn’t improve. I listened to his lungs this morning with my stethoscope and they sounded clear but his breaths were a little shallow.
I’ve been trying to keep him calm and quiet because the hacking seems to come on after he gets too excited or moves too quickly (fast paced walking or running). Hopefully it resolves on its own and x rays are not necessary. FINGERS CROSSED!!!
PHEW!!! It’s as if the second our plane touched down from Vegas we’ve been at a dead run with the baby, the dogs and the 4th of July!! Things have finally settled and I am so happy to be home with my big guy. He was so excited to see me when I walked in the door. I immediately got on the floor with him and I hugged him tight, scratched his belly, gave and received tons of kisses!! He was spoiled while I was gone. His grandma put his pills in Pill Pockets so now when he gets his meds he spits out the Gabapentin tablets, as if I won’t pick it up and pill him myself….he acts like I don’t do that for a living 🙂
I was back at work almost immediately after our vacation. Odin still tries to follow me out the door in the morning. I find it funny but also some what sad. He has grown so accustomed to heading to the clinic with me for the last 7 months he just assumes when I walk by in my scrubs that he is going with me. I asked him why he even wanted to go considering every time he falls asleep and something weird happens. The guilt still creeps in a little. He has devoted his entire life to me and even though, deep down, I know everything I do to him and every decision I make is in his best interest I still feel guilty.
I look at him and sometimes wonder what it’s going to be like when he isn’t here anymore. It won’t be for a long while, but I need to be realistic. I’ve had rottweilers my entire life. My first rottie was named Deuce, he died when I was 5 years old and he was only 8. His passing was my first experience with death. Then 3 years later we welcomed Merlyn to the family. He was hands down the most amazing dog on the face of the planet. There are no words to describe him. If you are familiar with the children’s book series Carl then you know that when I say Merlyn was our neighborhood’s ‘Carl’ you know that he was a good boy. He lived to the amazing age of 13, which is nearly unheard of for this breed.
(Deuce and baby me)
(Merlyn and I Christmas Eve of 2008)
Odin spent his first 2 years growing up with Merlyn and took on a lot of his traits so when my mom said she would never again be able to have another rottweiler, I totally understood. These dogs have an amazing way of slamming their way into your heart. Merlyn’s death rocked our family. I felt I had lost a brother. That is why I think about Odin eventually passing away. I feel I need to prepare myself because I know it will be 10,000 times harder on me than when Merlyn crossed the rainbow bridge.  I’m finally to the acceptance stage of his diagnosis. I’ve been in denial for months, but looking at his histopathology report and the pictures they sent of the cancerous cells I’ve accepted it. He won’t be here forever so I’m going to love him as much as I can before he decides to join the boys on the other side.
(Odin and Merlyn sharing a bed)
Odin is making amazing strides in his recovery. He has fallen twice since I’ve been home, but no more yelping. He’s back up within seconds and keeps on moving. He has snuck down the stairs a few times and I’ve had to help him back up, he hasn’t quite mastered that. He did get a hold of a ball and ‘ran’ a few laps around the couch. You could tell he thought he was going so fast, but he really wasn’t. The sweetest part of it was that the other two pups chased him as his pace. He looked so happy all I could do was laugh at him. I wish I could see the world through his eyes.
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