My beautiful Soli - she of the endless noise, she of the medical notes an inch thick, she of the stress and the reactivity - has left us.
Back in August, she had her last checkup on the PROTECT study; as usual, much surprise from everyone as she was the picture of health - no weight loss (bit of a gain actually), no fluid buildup, still nowhere near heart failure and still racing around like a complete maniac as she did her whole life, despite the fact that her heart was almost entirely round and resembling one of those miniature footballs.
In September, she had another holter monitor put on - 48 this time on account of vet availability - as her heart had started beating in a silly fashion; every other beat was abnormal, and it was beating in pairs also, something her cardiologist told me is more typical of a cocker spaniel with DCM than a dobe. Typical of Soli to be different! In any case, the results were no worse than April's holter, the only vague concern being that her average heart rate was ever so slightly increased, so perhaps beginning a slow crawl towards going into congestive heart failure. But on the whole, all good; the study finishes tomorrow, so I was preparing for the beginning of treatment proper - vetmedin, ACE inhibitors, so on and so forth. But she had other ideas.
On Friday, I took the whole gang - 8-strong by now - to a woods we've been exploring of late. We spent 90 minutes there, me walking, Soli joining two of the others in running non-stop for the entire time we were there, leaping in and out of undergrowth and generally having a great time. We met no dogs, so no stress, just fun.
Yesterday morning, we all got up as usual; everyone was fed, I contemplated going straight out to buy them all bones to chew for an easy day (as one dog dislocated a toe in the woods, and another dog fell down the stairs first thing yesterday morning so I figured best to chill for a bit and not push our luck). I decided to wait a while - which was the best decision I've made in a long time.
Not long after breakfast, and the customary barking her head off at the others in the garden and then at me in the lounge, Soli had taken herself onto one of the dog sofas to just relax for a bit. She grumbled at the others as she usually did, and settled down. Not 20 seconds later, she got up again - also not unusual, she was a fidget. She walked across the room and I noticed her wobble a little; as she got to the hallway, she started to sink. My first thought was a fainting episode - I'd been told to keep an eye out for these - but it was immediately dismissed as I rushed to her side and she just went down to the floor.
I got her comfortable - in trying to stay upright (she was always worried about falling over), she had splayed out so her back legs were going frog - and could do nothing else but hold her as she had a massive heart attack.
Now, I know how to deal with a heart attack in dogs: I've not had to do it before but I know how CPR for dogs works. But I had already made the decision months ago, on account of her stressiness and how badly she coped with illness, that should she go down this road (rather than the slow decline of heart failure) I would make no attempt to save her. I cannot begin to explain how hard that was to stick to but I knew Soli, I loved her, and saving her - if it had even been possible - would have been the worst thing I could have done.
I would love to say she just went to sleep but she was scared, so she cried because she didn't know what was happening - but only for a few seconds. I told her I loved her so very much, and that it was okay. I think she heard me; she let go and died in my arms. I pointlessly felt for a pulse and of course felt none; as I put my hand on her side I could feel the fine tremors starting and I knew she had died. I told her I loved her again, and cried for who knows how long - non dog lovers will never understand, of course, but to those of us in the know, it's losing family and unbearably painful.
The house now is horribly quiet - Soli always was nothing other than a total noisemaker, she adored her own voice and used it at every opportunity. If she wasn't barking, she was umphing at me to get attention, or poking me with that horribly wet nose of hers.
I take solace in how she went though: I would have preferred she just go to sleep and never wake up but life is rarely how we want it to be; she was, at least, spared the stress, the anxiety and the feeling of going down that long, awful slope of heart failure and slow deterioration that I was dreading on her behalf - Soli never coped well with illness and it would have been terrible. Selfishly, it also spared me the wrench of having to send her on her way far earlier than most dogs precisely because of the stress, and I am grateful to her for that, both for me and for her - I'd often worried about the stress of having the vet come out to do the awful deed, as she was always so very worried when anyone handled her except for a fuss, and she would have known it wasn't for that.
For now she is out in the 'pantry' until tomorrow, when she will be making her last car journey to the crematorium at 1pm.
The other dogs are coping well; Soli was always a bit of an outsider here, coming in as she did with godawful social skills which never improved all that much, and a desire to drive River insane through badgering at every opportunity. Ironically River has been hit the hardest - last night I sat with her and Soli and she watched her old tormentor, waiting for her to get up and unhappy when she didn't. She knows what's happened, but like me, is so used to the Soli we've lived with for nearly 5 years - a constant whirlwind of energy - that seeing her motionless would be utterly inconceivable if it wasn't right there in front of us.
It's not all bad, though: for all that she was fun and fun loving, and a fair bit crazy, Soli was a stresshead; much less so in her latter years when the causes were noted and addressed as best they could be, and for the last two weeks I'd had her on a very high dose of valerian to really help her relax and she'd been extra-antsy about life for some reason. It had worked, she was a lot happier, but now - now, she no longer has to worry about the neighbours when they're close to the fence, or when their daughters run too close to it for comfort, and bark at them; she doesn't have to worry about the people walking their dogs on the golf course behind us; she doesn't have to worry about the dogs we meet out and about. No more stress, no more worry, she can finally just relax. She's made a hell of a dent in a fair few lives, not just mine - she was one in a million and everyone loved her, even when she was trying to scare the heck out of their dogs at the park. She also taught me so much about aggression and nervous dogs and that there is always light at the end of the tunnel, no matter how scary and sharp that tunnel may be - not a single soul would ever believe how she used to be when she first came into my life. She did me proud.
Her work is done.
Soli (Lowfields Silas Return)
17 July 2001 - 29 October 2011
