Then yesterday, he started to get worse. He wasn't drinking water, even though he had taken his medication, and wasn't eating. His breathing started to get heavier during the evening, but it was still slow. Then around 12:30am, his breathing started to become quite rapid, and he started to gasp for air, so we took him to Emergency.
His eyes were still bright and alert, and he was still enjoying the pats I was giving him in the car. We arrived at the hospital at around 1:10am. The vet put him in an oxygen chamber to help him breathe, and he seemed to be doing OK. She admitted him in at 1:20am. She even mentioned how bright his eyes were, and that it was a positive sign. She said they would wait for his breathing to stabilise, before doing other tests on him to see why his symptoms were so unusual. We visited him for the final time in his oxygen chamber, and his breathing had definitely improved, and his eyes were very bright and alert; he was looking around his new environment, curious as always. She told us to go home to rest for the night. As soon as we got home, around 2:17am, she called us to say he had stopped breathing suddenly.
Rushed back to Emergency, and got there around 2:35am, thinking we would pick up his body, only to hear that they had resuscitated him with CPR. Five minutes later, they gave us another update, that his heart was stopping and starting, but he couldn't breathe by himself, and they had him on a machine to pump oxygen into him, and they were continuing with CPR. Ten minutes later, the Vet herself (Lara), came out to tell us that she had resuscitated him three times, but his heart had stopped on the third time again. They had done a quick ultrasound on him and there was a lot of fluid in his chest. She said they could continue CPR for longer, or our final option was to cut him open to massage his heart for a better chance of revival, and we gave the go ahead for it.
Thirty minutes later, she came out, and said in a soft voice, "I'm really sorry". He didn't make it. She said he fought really hard, til the end. She said it was really unusual for such a young dog to have an enlarged heart, and he was just really unlucky this time. We stayed with him for close to an hour. It was so odd to see his lifeless body; to touch his paw, and not feel him reach back; to pat his head and not feel his head move, or see his eyes following us. His body was still warm and soft, and it smelled so nicely of him.
I'm quite devastated today. He was such a good boy. I'm going to miss him so much, coming home to see him all excited and happy to see me. I'm going to miss seeing him fetch his toys, or wag his tail so excitedly when he got impatient with us to come play with him, perched on my rug, before barking at us, as if we couldn't see him. I'm really going to miss the way he ran as well; he had such a cute way of skipping and running. He ran and skipped like a rabbit, really. So many people have said that too, as well as say what a lovely dog he was, all quiet and docile and.. such a good boy. I'm going to miss how, if you haven't patted him enough, he moved his head to cup it into your hand to let you know he hasn't had enough yet.
It's such a sad day today. The day itself is gorgeous; a nice sunny 27 degrees, a perfect day where he would just lie and sunbake outside.
Mum says he's in a better place now, and that his pain had ended, so to be happy for him, and to pray that he's reborn into a person in his next life. She's gone to the temple to pray for him today. Her monk friend says not to be sad, that his life as a dog is over now, and it's good for him in his next life, that this life was short, and his suffering is over. All this doesn't really make me feel any better. He was only 20 months old. He was still a puppy, and he still ran like a puppy. Still acted like a puppy. Still was a puppy.
I miss him.
Raffie Mach
July 2008 - 14 March 2010
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