Life continues....

Muchas gratitude for the kind thoughts.  You cannot know how much your words are helping me.     

Cleo and Deedee are coping well.  Cleo was a bit blue, but Deedee ramped up her sisterly love (read: extreme pesty-ness), and the 2 are now inseparable. 

They say that you never get over a loss, rather that you get through it.  We are attempting to muddle through, some people (hysterical pug mama) and some days being worse than others.   I will never forget my Sasha, my cantaloupe-sized pug, the one who waltzed into my life and took my heart, the one for whom I did do and would've done anything and everything.    

Given that this blog was so much about her, I thought it best to move to a new blog, Pugtime.  Please join us there.

Goodbye, my darling pug

I have no words for what is in my heart.

enjoying the afternoon sun in her mama's arms

From Sasha's (much more literate) auntie:

how do you say goodbye to our first pug, our lovable grande dame.  

i am grateful for every moment you have been with us and all the joy that you brought to our lives. i can't imagine the last 14 years without you. 

i'll always remember the first moment i met you, you funny looking thing, and how i could lift you with one hand and how you always wanted to be near a human.

i'll never forget catching a glimpse of you on top of the kitchen table, after having just shoved a wine glass onto the floor.  

i'll never forget how excited you became over the duck toy your mom dangled in front of your face, and how you would rambunctiously run up and down the stairs. 

i love how you would bury your face completely when sleeping. 

remember i put a stocking on your head one christmas? i don't think you liked it. 

it will be hard not to have you at the dinner table this christmas, but what matters more are all the holidays we did spend together and all the treats the big pieces of food bestowed on you. they loved making you happy--we all love making you happy. 

i guess that's why, as your body fails, we know that what your parents are doing for you is the right decision.

 we don't want you to suffer.

you know, and have always known, how loved and treasured you are. as much as this hurts now, we wouldn't trade it for a second of the time that we've shared with you. 

we love you forever and ever. we let you go with heartache, of course, but more importantly with love and comfort, and knowledge that you will be at peace. 

baby girl there will never be another pug like you.

Family time

For the past few weeks, we've been taking it a day at a time, enjoying every last moment with our Sasha.  She got a little strength back, and was able to show us once again who is le grande dame of the house.  Best were (rare) days where she showed moments of true pug appetite.

Cabbage.  The only thing she really tore at with pug gusto. 

Sasha does love her cabbage.

It's these brief flashes of 'Sasha' that've been keeping us going.

But, she's weakening.  She's eating less.  Her liver is mysteriously failing, while simultaneously pitching her kidneys in and out of crisis and giving her recurrent internal bleeding.  Her vets wanted to do internal organ biopsies and treatment for her presumed disseminated cancer.  We refused. 

She's happiest when in one of our laps, never willing to let us out of her sight.  I'll tuck her onto her heated bed in a comfy corner in one room, walk into another, and look down to see my old girl toddling in after me.

As long as she's comfortable, we get to hold her for one more day.

Spending quality time

What a week.  Happy days when Sasha came home, and seemed to be healing, slowly but surely.  Then, panic-stricken terrible days when she took yet another downturn over the weekend -- lethargic, out of it, breathing heavily.  Turns out that now her liver appears to have suffered some damage.

We've decided no more hospitalizations, no more heroic measures.  We just want her to be comfortable, enjoy however many days she'll give us, and try to make each precious moment count.

To that end, we took her to her favorite beach.  She can't frolic like a puppy in the sand anymore, but she can certainly take in the ocean air and watch the waves. 

Slowly recovering

I don't want to jinx it.... but so far, Sasha is getting stronger day by day, hour by hour.  For the first 2 days, she slept as if dead.  Engendering no small amount of panic in the mama.  

Poor puglet is still very weak (she falls down a lot), but this morning she's better able to stand and walk on her own.  Seems like such small things, but they feel like major victories!  Someday I hope to not have to hold up her bum while she's squatting out a loaf....

She's still not eating well -- 'mealtime' is basically our trying to offer her any kind of food under the sun all day long -- but she's drinking well.  So although right now we're giving her fluids under the skin daily (with a needle! poor baby), I hope that won't be permanent.

Sasha also seems pretty dazed.  Don't know if it was the constant bright lights and poking at the hospital that threw her off, but it seems to take her a while to figure out where she is or what she's doing.

you would think that the return of the big flashing thing would clue her in that she's home

A small miracle

Yesterday, we thought Sasha was lost to us.  Today, I brought her home.

Her bloodwork came back much improved.  Her xrays were clearing.  She started eating.  They told us she would heal better and faster at home, and literally shoo'd us out the door.

Sasha back in her dada's lap

She's still got a long road of recovery ahead of her, and she's not yet out of the woods.  But it's such a gift to have her home again.

Cleo and Deedee were happy to see her home again

Emotional roller coaster

Sasha had another setback this past weekend.  Her breathing started to become difficult, with her little body struggling to make each breath count.  Turned out she had a pneumonia on top of everything else.  And she was refusing to eat.  We saw our baby girl working so hard, it broke our hearts.

After weeping all night and day over whether or not to say goodbye, we made what we thought would be one of our final visits to the hospital.  And found that Sasha had turned the corner.  Little puglet was alert and looking for her dada.

So, we watch and wait another day. 

She's still not eating, though.  Which is so alarming to see in a pug.  We watch each potential bite with such hope.

Glimmer of hope?

It's been a roller coaster.  We went from the lowest of lows last night, when we were planning the unplannable goodbye -- 

Sasha couldn't even wake up for my visit yesterday afternoon

To today, when we can hold an extremely weakened, but alert (!) and hungry (!) pug.  

Dare we hope?  For now I'm just happy to treasure the precious moments Sasha can give us.

Slowly letting go

No pictures today, because we want to remember Sasha as she was, and not as she is now.

Her transfusion was successful, in that her blood counts remain up. 

Unfortunately, her failing kidneys are not responding.  She is quite weak, and has lost control of her bladder and hind legs.  She's lost so much weight, yet, she's refusing food.

Every moment we have now, where we can look into her sweet face and those big bright eyes, is a gift. 

2nd day of the doggie hospital

Although it kills me to not have my Sasha with me, I know that she's in great, capable hands.  Last night, Sasha bled internally some more, and her blood counts dropped to the point where she needed a transfusion.

Little girl was working so hard just to breathe.  She was so weak and out of it,  that I wasn't even sure she recognized me, despite the shnergles.

Sasha perked up a wee bit after her transfusion.  Her blood count and blood pressure went back up, and she was actually hungry.  Ravenous, in fact.  She literally face-planted in the plate of food a nurse brought to her.  

At this point, we can only see what the next day brings.