Our dog is about 15 years old (the one on the right pictured above). I’m not exactly sure of her age because when I got her, her then owner was a bit vague about her age – 2-2.5 years he thought. I don’t know if I ever said on this blog before but he committed suicide a few years after giving us Monty which was awful to hear and I’m glad she was spared from losing him in that way. Although she did lose him when we got her didn’t she?
Monty has had 13 years with me, and 11 years with my son and I hate to say this, but I think she might be lucky to make it past the end of the year.
Pretty much since I got her I’ve been buying her dog food from Bucket of Beef and she’s normally devoured it in a very short amount of time. In the last few weeks she hasn’t wanted it so I’ve had to come up with other sorts of food that she’ll eat.
I tried changing our order to doggy mince but she doesn’t seem too keen on that either. At the moment she’s having cut up bits of chicken or beef from the human food section of the supermarket. I’ve even made instant gravy to pour over the top to warm it up a bit and to add that bit of extra flavour. It seems to be working but she’s still not that interested in eating. She likes eating doggy treats like Smackos and she likes me hand feeding her small pieces of cheese. I’ve even been feeding her twice a day instead of once a day.
I spoke to a vet who euthanases pets in your home. I met this vet at my local oval when she was walking her dogs. She used to work at a clinic but has since left and started her own business. She was fantastic on the phone and pretty much said that I will know when the time comes. Monty’s yearly injections are due around now and I asked if it’s worth getting them done as they’re expensive and I doubt whether she’ll get her year’s worth. The vet said not to worry about it as it will stress her out and she’s still covered from all the previous ones. That makes me doubly glad because I’ve gone off my local vet surgery.
Monty is still following us around the house absolutely everywhere. When she stops doing that and appears to have lost interest in us, or when she physically can’t move around then I’ll know the time has come.
She is very wobbly on her back legs and stumbles all over the place. It’s excruciating to watch her pace back and forth in the lounge before she finally settles down on her mat or on the shag-pile rug. I think she forgets why she came into the room, hence the pacing.
She also wanders up and down the hallway looking in the bedrooms – previously out of bounds – but the rules have been heavily relaxed. And as she’s deaf, telling her to come or go out is hopeless.
I have to lift her into the car if we go out – jumping in is a thing of the past. And walks – even short walks are out now. I do want to take her to the beach one last time but it will have to be one that has a very short walk from the carpark to the beach.
So I continue to sweep up her molting fur, pat her as much as I can and love her heaps while we’ve still got her.