Okay, this is where things are going to get a little personal and LiveJournal-like. So if you don't want to read anything like that, I suggest you move on to the next thing. You have been warned.


Rest In Peace
PumpkinJuly 26, 1991 - September 4, 2004

Pumpkin, aka Pump, Pumpy, Pumpky Dog, Punkin, Punky, Pumpkin Pie, Pumpernickel, Bluppy Puppy, Soggy Doggy, and plenty of other nicknames. She was our family pet. Golden retreiver...purebred, I'm pretty sure...we could've gotten papers for her, if we bothered. Her color was much darker, more orange, than the usual "blonde" golden...plus we had gotten her in late September, when farm stands were putting our pumpkins for sale, so the name was appropriate. Plus she was a big dog...a bit more overweight than she ought to have been (we called it "well-loved")...usually just over 100 lbs. "Bear" was a word that sometimes described her better than "dog".

Something was amiss when I got home from work Wednesday night. The unusual thing wasn't that she was lying in the basement - she used to sleep down there all the time, plus company was over, so that's where she's sent to be out of the way - it was she seems unresponsive when I greeted her. Plus she was breathing heavily...very labored, through her nose. Very unusual for her. So, we brought her to the hospital (luckily Tufts Veterinary School is just down the road here in Grafton). And that was a struggle in itself, as Pumpkin actually collapsed a couple times, and she's a heavy dog to lift into the car. She was given an IV and oxygen, and preliminary tests suggested a possible tumor, or stroke. The next day an MRI ruled those out, and a spinal tap suggested there was some kind of parasite in her nose. Which explained the strained breathing, swollen face, excessive drooling, vertigo, etc. She was going to get treated with a kind of drug to kill the worm (without killing her, of course), but I guess over the course of the night she developed pneumonia, and was given only a 20-30% chance of recovery. So it was then the difficult decision was made.

Somehow, I think overall, I'm actually OK with it. I mean, she was 13 years old - I know she's not going to live forever, plus she'd kinda had arthritis the last year or so. The absolute heart-wrencher, though, was just seeing her lie there on the floor, breathing heavy, not recognizing us. Not quite realizing her surroundings, or even really to lift her head or open her eyes. I mean, there are some mornings where I almost expected to find her not breathing, but still, when something like that happens, it's still a shock to the system.

She will be greatly missed.

posted by Tim at 1:36 AM