Sad PUPdate

Things started out good this morning. The vet sent me some pics of Baxter looking alert last night, and I was happy to see them when I woke up this morning and checked my email.

His numbers had improved a little, too, and the vet was all set to update me this morning with good things.

But then his blood pressure crashed. They had to move him to the intensive care unit to get him stable. It took a lot of effort to get him stable, but he was no longer alert.

At this point, I knew there was really only one option. The treatments all week barely budged his liver and kidney numbers and they were still pretty bad. He was diagnosed with severe cardiac issues from having leaky heart valves in all four chambers. And the little momentary "zone out" moments that I had noticed a while ago, but thought nothing of because they were so brief, were diagnosed as seizures, to my great surprise. Unfortunately, in a dog his age, the most likely cause would be a mass in the brain.

Even with all this, if there was any chance of achieving quality of life, I would have been interested in hearing about it. But now we are talking about his blood pressure being ready to bottom out without warning. No. I can't subject him to that, too. It took a team of ICU vets in the best animal hospital in the region to straighten his BP out this morning. Suppose by some huge miracle he had come home, and it happened here? I don't have the equipment or the training to bring him back from an episode like that. He'd be gone on the spot.

I had to recognize that all these thing point to just one answer. It was not the answer I wanted, but I have to be honest with myself.
We were at the point where prolonging his life would have meant suffering, not recovery, and under no circumstances would I let him suffer. Mark and I drove up to the animal hospital to be with Baxter while he had the Final Act of Mercy.

We are grieving, but we know that it was the only real option.

Blast all these ailments that impact our innocent little furbabies. All they ever do is love us unconditionally.

Baxter was brought in to a local rescue as a stray in 2013, and the vet there estimated him to be six years old. We never knew his birthdate, so we marked his Gotcha Day as his birthday. We treated him like he was 12 and would be 13 in the Fall on the anniversary of when we got him.
They let both Mark and me in the room with him, and he sat getting cuddles on my lap the whole time. My lap was his favorite place, and cuddles were his favorite thing. I told him over and over how I will love him forever and ever.