Duncan's final days

I posted these to my Facebook account, and didn't think to cross-post because I was focused on him.

Tuesday and Wednesday (March 22nd and 23rd), Duncan was slow eating his breakfast. For a chow hound, that was a bit of a concern. I bumped his CBD oil intake to twice a day, and he ate with gusto again. Figured it was a joint problem or arthritis. Friday, he was a little worse and didn't want his dinner. Saturday he didn't eat breakfast, but the Setters and my parents were also sick. They all bounced back by that evening, and we got Duncan to eat a half cup of chicken and a half cup of mashed potatoes.


Sunday Duncan was feeling bad and running a fever of 103F (his normal is 100.5F), and he didn't want his breakfast again so we ended up at the ER vet. Fluid on his lungs. They pulled off about a liter (980mL). He stayed overnight to get first appointment with the internist Monday.

The ER vet guessed it was cancer, with maybe an infection on top of it. I went through 20 something kleenex in 4 hours at the e vet.


Monday they found a nodule in his chest on ultrasound. They pulled 140mL more fluid off his lungs to make his breathing as easy as possible, then took another set of x-rays. He came home while we waited for results.

Monday night he ate about 5 teaspoons of vanilla ice cream and an ounce or so of corned beef with his antibiotics. He wasn't super thrilled with it, but he ate. (His skull was so skinny.)

He was struggling, but I couldn't call it that night. He was breathing too fast, and grunt-whining, and it made me hurt to hear him. I couldn't get him up just talking to him, so I lured him out the door with *HIS* leash. He staggered around for a bit, peed, then got back in to his bed and floppped down without the customary turn around. It exhausted him to walk the length of the house twice. My boy who wore a prong for our half mile walk Friday before last, because he was full of pep and being a butthead.

I put the water bowl by his face and he got a big, long drink. His body wasn't quite shutting down yet, and I got a spark of hope. I grabbed some of the chicken that my parents put on to boil that was just warm, shredded a thigh out on a paper plate and put a bit of the broth in a bowl. Duncan didn't want much of the broth, but he ate all but a tablespoon of the chicken.

His respiration after the walk and the drink and the food was back below the 40 breaths a minute the specialist wants him to be at. Finally, instead of looking at me with wide eyes and a tense face, he looked to be drifting off to sleep. Finally, I could give him some measure of comfort.

"It's still looking like end stages, and it breaks my heart, but maybe the antibiotics will help enough that we can get a couple more good weeks, because I'm not ready."

Yesterday, Tuesday,
For my peace of mind and to give him the very best chance, I called out of work and we went in for the ER internist to tap Duncan's chest again. Sunday, they pulled 980mL. Monday, they pulled 140mL. Today, they pulled 70mL before the needle clogged with fibrin. There's not enough return on investment, it's not helping him as much as I'd hoped. That should be the last time we tap his chest; but we gained what ground we could.

Given the fibrin filling up his left lung, even if it's best case and it's fungal, he'll be a functioning asthmatic with about one working lung capacity. Given a more likely view that it's cancer, we're in hospice, and just trying to keep him comfortable until we can't.

He is breathing easier. He was a bit more bright-eyed on the car ride there. So long walks and fetch are of the reward list, but maybe he can be my ride along a few more times.

The appetite stimulant seems to be working. Whereas this morning I couldn't get him to finish half a chicken thigh, this afternoon he ate a slice (maybe 3oz) of corned beef and the other half of the chicken thigh. It's not really enough, but that's after one dose. I can hope he won't starve to death on me, at least.

I know most of my friends on here are part of Duncan's "Fan Club," having either met him in person, or seen me sing his praises online. I wish I had better news. We're doing what we can for him, I just don't know how much time that will buy him.

He's the dog who got me through college, my first job, and took me on so many adventures. He kept me on my feet or warned me when I'd fall. I trusted in him when I couldn't trust my own body to remain standing.

I wish the sky were green and pink polka dots, I wish water wasn't wet, I wish he would live forever, I wish this didn't hurt so much, I wish I'd had more warning. I don't think I'll ever be ready, but when it's his time we'll do right by him, the way he's done right by me for nearly 9 years.


And then today, a week and one day after his first "slow" breakfast, less than two weeks after we went for a half mile walk and he led the whole way, he was gone.

He took a turn for the worse in the night, and couldn't get up on his own, not even when I put on shoes and a coat and jingled *HIS* leash. He was done. I was able to get him into a slightly better position for breathing, and as soon as he could breathe, he was asleep and dreaming. He was exhausted from fighting for air.

This morning I helped him sit up, then heaved him on to his feet so he could go pee. He staggered, but managed the out and back, then collapsed onto his bed. I'd already called our local vet based on how he was throughout the night. We waited to go to the vet clinic he loved so much, because he looked worried we would leave him when we went to the ER vet yesterday. No more worries, big man.

It took Dad and me and a towel to get him out to the car, and then he had one last adventure as we slid him and the towel onto a gurney and he was carried inside. He checked that I was following, then he just enjoyed the ride with a big puppy grin. His people were there, and he passed easily. No more fighting to breathe, no more pain.

He was a good dog, and is loved and will be missed. It's all been so brutally fast it doesn't entirely feel real.

Unknown birthday in late summer 2006, Gotcha Day May 30, 2007, end of watch, March 30, 2016. He saved my life more than once, kept me from falling countless times, and I'll love him forever.