Preparing to Say Goodbye to a Friend and Companion

This is a departure from my normal postings. Last night, our fifteen-and-a-half-year-old miniature Red Poodle, Maya, suffered a massive seizure. I have never witnessed a “grand mal” event. It was horrendous to watch. She was sleeping beside me on the couch in our living room and suddenly began to writhe, legs flailing, loss of bladder control, and then falling to the floor. I comforted her as best I could, wrapped her in a towel and moved her to our bathroom where she appeared comatose.

My wife and I then started trying to find an emergency veterinarian clinic here in the city to consult with a doctor. It’s a holiday weekend here in Ontario and finding a clinic to see her was a travail upon the travail of watching our beloved pet suffer. The first three clinics I reached were at capacity. We finally found a clinic, 22 kilometres away and set out for there.

Toronto remains in a partial COVID-19 lockdown. That meant we could bring Maya into the clinic, but we couldn’t be with her to see the veterinarian. Instead, we were asked to go back to our car and someone would call. After about 20 minutes we got to speak to the veterinarian who diagnosed a brain tumour and prescribed medicine normally given to dogs with epilepsy.

It was close to midnight by the time we returned home with Maya who never moved a muscle during transit or after I put her on our bed to sleep. This morning she has not had anything to eat or drink, just seizure medication.

Five years ago, Maya suffered a stroke, probably caused by an abnormality in her brain undetectable by an MRI. She had largely recovered from that incident and was still responsive and happy to go for long walks. There was some cognitive deterioration, but generally, her health was okay. In the last year, however, she was diagnosed with a progressively worsening heart murmur and lately with congestive heart failure which we are controlling with drugs. But the seizure has drastically altered her well-being and it would appear that our pup and companion of 15 years is telling us that it is her time.

For those of you who read this blog, if you have never had an animal companion, you may not appreciate the bond that forms when you have lived together for as long as we have. Our apartment building is pet-friendly, and the march of dogs in and out is a part of the daily routine. We have a network of pet owners and pet appreciators who from time to time are there to look after one another’s dog or cat when needed. Maya has her entourage, and today, many are coming to visit to say their goodbyes.

What all my dogs and animal friends have taught me

My appreciation of science and the wonder of life on this planet has been reinforced by having animals in my life. As a young boy, it was budgies. As a teenager, it was my fish tanks filled with all kinds of creatures including turtles, salamanders, fish, and for three years, even a crayfish. And since marriage in 1973, there have been dogs. Four to be exact over the 48 years, each unique with their own particular personalities, and all of them loved.

I have often tried to see and sense the world through their eyes, ears, touch and noses. The things they sense that I can’t fascinate me and have taught me that as much as we think of humans as the penultimate species, we are far from it, lacking in certain abilities. Just take a dog’s sense of smell, so acute they are capable of detecting cancer by odour. They don’t need blood tests, x-rays, or biopsies. Or a bird’s sense of vision, able to see objects far away that we can only see with the aid of a telescope or binoculars. And animals capable of hearing sounds ranging far higher or lower than my inadequate ears perceive.

In my bio that accompanies this blog site, I have described how I have appreciated nature through the senses of Maya on our daily walks. When she first spotted a fox in the cemetery next to where we live, it was she who alerted me before I could see it. Similarly when she spotted a deer. And then there was the day she sensed a Red Tail Hawk and when we came upon it, the bird was feeding her chick.

I guess this is my way of saying goodbye to a loved friend and companion. Maya, you will be missed for so many reasons. You have taught me to be humble as a human. And you have taught me to appreciate a world greater than my own senses can perceive.