Post by xtrawld on Aug 2, 2015 9:04:30 GMT -5
Kasey came into our lives long before I knew this GRA Forum existed, as he was not a GRA dog. Even though postings here became few and far between, many here still remember him I'm sure.
Over the last 10 years, Kasey was our hiking companion, taking us to locations far and wide through geocaching. We went camping. We went out to see the tall ships in Port Colbourne. We got him a brother, never bonded, but tolerable of eachother. They had overnights at various sitters while we took vacations, having the time of their lives there too! We took him to a charity event (Relay for Life), countless Greyhound events and Meet and Greets. He is such a social butterfly, and so very good with people. We also took him to a palliative care unit to visit an ailing family member. It took us about 15 minutes to get to her room however, since everyone wanted to stop and pet Kasey. Talk to him, to us, being a great ambassadog.
He loved car rides, and that adventure box took him many many places. His love of sticking his head out the sunroof is forever etched in my mind.
Over the past winter, I noticed Kasey really changing. He’d fall in the house, just out of nowhere seemingly, his back legs not being able to hold his weight and he’d just skid across the floor. He was diagnosed with Lumbosacral Stenosis, essentially nerve compression in his spine, preventing the signal from going to his back legs to do what he wants them to do. His back legs would bend and he would just start to sink. We controlled this as much as possible by using a combination of gabapentin and prednisone. Just recently I cut his dose of pred to try to get him on Metacam, hoping to help with the LS.
Also discovered a lump on his bum, got it aspirated, got it biopsied in May. It came back as Intramuscular Hermangiosarcoma. Floored, we tried what we could. Did an ultrasound first to determine if it spread, and after getting news it didn't (elation by the way) opted for some chemo to get rid of it. Chances were good that we could, since this apparently responds well to chemo. What a tough road. This dog is so strong and brave. He knew we were there to help him, and we laid down with him through all the IV rounds of chemo, and I picked up the pieces at home as we went through incredible rollercoasters of physical well being. He struggled to get up one night resulting in a torn dew claw right at the base. Just pile on as much troubles as we can, because we can get through all of this right? He had a full wellness check just last week, and bloodwork couldn't be more perfect. On paper he was stellar, in person he was really an old 12.5 year old dog with multiple issues.
Yesterday morning, his lower leg began to swell. The tumour had grown and cut off circulation to his lower leg. The dog that would walk forever and a day, no longer couldn’t. A greyhound born to run, he could barely move a foot. Boy he tried, he never picked the bad leg up to hop on three legs….he just dragged it around as an anchor. The leg really looked like it belonged on another animal, it was husky like, very big, very furry.
We arranged to have a wonderful mobile vet come to the house to help him cross the bridge later in the evening.
I loaded him up on meds to make him comfortable until the vet would show up, chasing all those pills down with tasty cheese - his favourite being the dairy dog that he is. Kasey got a pound of raw hamburger which he licked and ate with vigour, and washed it down with some Ensure. He got pizza and pizza bones, and actually argued with us as we asked him to sit before he could get some. He got up a few times to just walk around the house, have a drink, but restless as had been the case lately. We let him look and sniff and survey until he laid down again.
We chatted about all our memories over the last 10 years, and I typed them out, all the while Kasey lightly panting in the background and dozing off now and again. I peered over my screen to see his chest heave with each breath. When the vet arrived, I was assured many times there was nothing left I could do. I had done everything, but it still felt like I hadn't done enough, and worse, felt like what I had done was all for naught. After he passed, we both swear we could still see those chest heaves. The vet checked one more time, and ensured us he was gone. Now I peer over my screen to just an empty bed.
I’m certain he was put on this earth to teach us something, well teach us everything he possibly could about greyhounds in his white ticked red package. Grateful and thankful for all the moments, good and bad. His racing name is Goodbye Kasey, and I uttered that into his ear for the last time he was able to hear me, and repeated “you’re a good boy” the whole time, until that chest no longer heaved.
My last pic of him just as the vet pulled up.
May you run again completely pain free with nothing to hold you back anymore. One day, we shall meet again.
Over the last 10 years, Kasey was our hiking companion, taking us to locations far and wide through geocaching. We went camping. We went out to see the tall ships in Port Colbourne. We got him a brother, never bonded, but tolerable of eachother. They had overnights at various sitters while we took vacations, having the time of their lives there too! We took him to a charity event (Relay for Life), countless Greyhound events and Meet and Greets. He is such a social butterfly, and so very good with people. We also took him to a palliative care unit to visit an ailing family member. It took us about 15 minutes to get to her room however, since everyone wanted to stop and pet Kasey. Talk to him, to us, being a great ambassadog.
He loved car rides, and that adventure box took him many many places. His love of sticking his head out the sunroof is forever etched in my mind.
Over the past winter, I noticed Kasey really changing. He’d fall in the house, just out of nowhere seemingly, his back legs not being able to hold his weight and he’d just skid across the floor. He was diagnosed with Lumbosacral Stenosis, essentially nerve compression in his spine, preventing the signal from going to his back legs to do what he wants them to do. His back legs would bend and he would just start to sink. We controlled this as much as possible by using a combination of gabapentin and prednisone. Just recently I cut his dose of pred to try to get him on Metacam, hoping to help with the LS.
Also discovered a lump on his bum, got it aspirated, got it biopsied in May. It came back as Intramuscular Hermangiosarcoma. Floored, we tried what we could. Did an ultrasound first to determine if it spread, and after getting news it didn't (elation by the way) opted for some chemo to get rid of it. Chances were good that we could, since this apparently responds well to chemo. What a tough road. This dog is so strong and brave. He knew we were there to help him, and we laid down with him through all the IV rounds of chemo, and I picked up the pieces at home as we went through incredible rollercoasters of physical well being. He struggled to get up one night resulting in a torn dew claw right at the base. Just pile on as much troubles as we can, because we can get through all of this right? He had a full wellness check just last week, and bloodwork couldn't be more perfect. On paper he was stellar, in person he was really an old 12.5 year old dog with multiple issues.
Yesterday morning, his lower leg began to swell. The tumour had grown and cut off circulation to his lower leg. The dog that would walk forever and a day, no longer couldn’t. A greyhound born to run, he could barely move a foot. Boy he tried, he never picked the bad leg up to hop on three legs….he just dragged it around as an anchor. The leg really looked like it belonged on another animal, it was husky like, very big, very furry.
We arranged to have a wonderful mobile vet come to the house to help him cross the bridge later in the evening.
I loaded him up on meds to make him comfortable until the vet would show up, chasing all those pills down with tasty cheese - his favourite being the dairy dog that he is. Kasey got a pound of raw hamburger which he licked and ate with vigour, and washed it down with some Ensure. He got pizza and pizza bones, and actually argued with us as we asked him to sit before he could get some. He got up a few times to just walk around the house, have a drink, but restless as had been the case lately. We let him look and sniff and survey until he laid down again.
We chatted about all our memories over the last 10 years, and I typed them out, all the while Kasey lightly panting in the background and dozing off now and again. I peered over my screen to see his chest heave with each breath. When the vet arrived, I was assured many times there was nothing left I could do. I had done everything, but it still felt like I hadn't done enough, and worse, felt like what I had done was all for naught. After he passed, we both swear we could still see those chest heaves. The vet checked one more time, and ensured us he was gone. Now I peer over my screen to just an empty bed.
I’m certain he was put on this earth to teach us something, well teach us everything he possibly could about greyhounds in his white ticked red package. Grateful and thankful for all the moments, good and bad. His racing name is Goodbye Kasey, and I uttered that into his ear for the last time he was able to hear me, and repeated “you’re a good boy” the whole time, until that chest no longer heaved.
My last pic of him just as the vet pulled up.
May you run again completely pain free with nothing to hold you back anymore. One day, we shall meet again.