Life and Death

“I’m really sorry - I wish I had better news,” Doc said as he leaned over the padded table where Tim lay, sprawled out, having his tummy rubbed by the vet assistant.

My heart sank.

Doc looked sympathetically into my face while he fell into Tim’s tummy-rub trap. “We could do dialysis, but it wouldn’t last,” he continued hesitantly, absently rubbing Tim’s tummy. I could hear the doubt in Doc’s voice. While I digested that bit of news, he ran down the list of the costs for the procedure, but what I really wanted to know is how long Tim would have to be hooked up, and how long the treatment would help. “Oh, I’d have to keep him two or three days,” Doc continued, “And there’s no knowing how long it would last.”

That did it for me. If it would make Tim feel great for another month, I might consider it, but the red numbers on the report Doc showed me told a bleak story - one of toxins building up in Tim’s little body to the point that his blood urea nitrates and creatinine levels are so high they're above the point where Doc’s equipment could register them.

It’s weird - ever since Tim was about 2 years old - back in 2002 - I’ve known he would die of renal failure, but the news that I have probably at best a few more days with him has hit me hard.



For now, though, we're going to take one day at a time, and make each day the best we can. After we left the vet clinic, I took the dogs out to Branched Oak, where Tim took what was probably his last “run.”



It was more of a meander, really, with me sticking close and looking for signs that he might need a hand, while JoLee and Star chased each other and the squeaky tennis ball I would throw when it came back to me.



Tim sniffed around, moving slowly from one clump of grass to the next.



Star and JoLee would come keep us company. I think they may be a bit confused about how slow Tim is moving, and they want to be sure he isn't hogging a great stink all to himself.



I was amazed that he actually found something to roll on - and that he made the effort.



On the way back to the car, Tim did come close and look up at me, and didn’t resist at all when I picked him up and carried him most of the way back. As we approached the car, he wanted back down again, so he could be a part of the pack and make it on his own four feet. That’s a terrier for you - independent all the way.

When we got back to the car, it was clear to see that he was all tuckered out.



We had a picnic lunch today in the back yard. Tim didn’t eat the roast beef I brought out to eat, sitting next to him in the bright sunshine, but JoLee and Star were more than willing to help eat Tim’s share. I was happy when he drank water. Hey, we take our happiness where we can find it, right?

Last night, Tim was so tired, all he wanted to do is lay on the floor. JoLee came close and smelled him all over, very thoroughly. Star did, too, wagging her tail the whole time.

After a while, I put him on Harry's lap - something they both love.



And this morning, for the first time ever, Tim did not bark to tell us the morning newspaper had hit the porch.

JoLee did.