Farmers Weekly Review

By Nick Reiher

She’s lying here after eating pretty much a whole cheddar brat for breakfast-lunch. When the spirit moves, she’ll jump into the recliner next to me with her muzzle on one of the armrests.

That is Kayley’s co-pilot chair, the one she sits in and snoozes or gazes out the window while I write. Pretty much the same routine for years.

Except now it’s not. Now, she’s dying.

A couple weeks ago, she started peeing on my son’s bed, or on one of the aforementioned recliners. I brought her in to the vet, who suspected she may have a UTI. But an X-ray also showed her spleen was a bit enlarged. Maybe infection, maybe old age. Certainly, something to watch.

She also was down about 6 pounds, definitely concerning, though she seemed more interested in our food than her kibble, even with a mixture. Spoiled pup!

Her UTI meant that I needed to get half an antibiotic and half an anti-inflammatory in her twice a day. Her patience for those balled up in a peanut butter-lined piece of bread was wearing thin. But generally, I managed to get them into her … I think.

Things seemed to be going OK until one night when we ordered Chinese. Kayley loves Chinese; the delivery guy, not so much.

As usual, she started barking her head off, so I went outside to pick up the food, closing the door behind me. I thought I heard a clunk inside. “Kayley! Pazienza!”

I opened the door to find her lying on her side by the door. She slowly started to wake up and got on her feet. I called the vet and let them know we, including son Andy, were on the way.

Since we had to get there by 6:30, I definitely broke several traffic laws. To those I passed on the median on Ridge Road, I am sorry. But our pup is more important.

Dr. Mark came out after examining her and said her neurological signs were good. The X-ray showed the spleen hadn’t changed much, but blood work showed she was anemic, and her liver levels were up a bit. She also gained a pound or so.

He recommended an ultrasound sooner than later, so we got her in the next morning. In between, she was eating the plain sweet-and-sour chicken nuggets like crazy.

The vet who would administer the ultrasound was more direct, even before the test. The enlarged spleen actually was a mass. Masses of those type are cancerous 70 percent of the time, he said, so we’re really hoping it hadn’t spread.

A few hours later, he called to say it had. It was in her liver. She has maybe two to three months, but with an aggressive type of cancer, who knows.

I called Tammy, Andy and daughter Jillian on my way to pick up Kayley. I mostly held it together as I told them the news. There were a lot of tears. There still are, and there will be more.

We’ve had four bunnies die, three of old age, one, Hattie, of an undiagnosed parasite that came on quick and hard. Very hard.

All of these tore us up, but it’s more intense when your fur baby goes for walks, eats what you eat (with sad eyes and a muzzle on your thigh) and sleeps on your bed or next to it.

Like the rest of us, I was having a hard time for the next few days, especially since we found out one of our out-of-town family members was struggling, too. But it took me a sad experience to figure out why.

Kayley and I were outside as I grilled some sausages, and some kids happened to walk by. As usual, she went nuts. I was thinking, “Good for you, girl!”

When they passed, she wobbled a little and fell. She had another seizure. Like the first one, it was short. She was up and walking soon. A little later, she was chowing on sausage pieces.

I felt horrible; then I realized I was looking for signs she was getting better. But, see, Dads want to fix things. They don’t want their wife, babies and fur babies to be sick.

As I thought this through, I realized, she’s not going to get better. I need to look for signs she is struggling; not recovering. So, I developed this mantra:

Kayley will not get better, and there is nothing I can do to change that. But I, and we, can help make sure her last days are comfortable and safe.

It’s difficult when 80 percent of the time, she looks and acts like the same Kayley. We have to enjoy those times even more now, knowing they are dwindling, and not knowing how fast.

As my cousin, Rachel, told me, she will tell us when she’s ready. Meantime, give her whatever she wants.

Hey, co-pilot, want some sausage?

Nick Reiher is editor of Farmers Weekly Review.