It's been one week since Chester died. Well died may not technically be true.
Basically he became very lethargic the past few weeks and was initially diagnosed with a sore back, or some sort of back issue, but nothing seemed to help him.
We took him to another Vet because the original Vet was pretty terrible, they wouldn't even attempt to examine him in any physical manner because he's very wriggly and anxious with them. The new Vet quite happily gave him a physical examination, it only took 3 of us holding him still and reassuring him, and suggested it was more likely a rear leg issue but if the medication prescribed didn't help within the week we would do some blood tests.
The medication was terrible. It made him way worse, he couldn't stand, not even to do the toilet. Then came the excessive puking. So much midnight puking. So we called for advice, turns out you have to wean them off him so we had to adjust the dosage, but he was clearly still suffering. Blood test it is then. A day later we're told he's highly anemic and there's possible signs of either an infection or even something cancerous. Awesome. He's referred to a hospital.
Oh did I mention that this drained my savings? Because it did. I in no way regret or begrudge this but I think it important to mention for what is about to unfold.
So yeah, the Vet hospital. Costs a shit ton. Luckily he is insured so no matter what I could feasibly claim some of the cost back, little bit of a weight off my shoulders. So he gets referred for a couple of days later.
The day before he seems worse. He won't get up to go for a pee, get a drink of water, nothing at all. Just stayed in the same spot all day. Then came dinner time. He wasn't interested but I hand fed him some and was making sure he was hydrated. My brother gave him a little dog treat that he used to love playing with. He seemed to actually be a little playful, even wagged his tail a little bit, there were some actual signs of life.
About an hour later he is walking around aimlessly, drooling profusely (he has never been a drooler unlike my aunt's dog Buster who turns into a cartoon character eying up a hunk of meat at dinner time) looking off into the distance or staring at me or my Mum. Then he starts violently convulsing and then throws up everything he ate that day caked in foam. NBD I thought obviously just an upset stomach, he seems fine after that I think. Then another hour passes and he does it again. Except this time his stomach was empty and he was throwing up foam and his body looked like someone was squeezing a toothpaste tube. Then the yelping and moaning happened.
I decided I had to phone the emergency vet, problem being I'm now skint, remember the drained savings account? I genuinely considered leaving him until his appointment in the morning because of fucking money. Thankfully I was able to get some help with funding the emergency appointment, although it's still quite a chunk of change. You know I'm still so pissed that with my dog in so much pain, the most pressing matter was making sure I had money to pay a fee. They really don't care that much about the pets if they are demanding a fee up front. I mean how about a payment plan for christ sake? It's a god damn emergency Vet you heartless fucks.
We call my Uncle who is able to take us to the Vet, all the way my best friend in the world Chester was howling, whimpering and yelping for the pain to stop.
We go in and I have to carry him, something he usually hates but was totally content with me doing. We hand him over and are sitting in the waiting room. There are a bunch of animals coming in and out. Dogs with broken legs, Cats that couldn't open their eyes and even the cutest little Bearded Dragon who was having a hard time breathing. There was a TV on the wall showing the news, very mundane but I was able to keep track of the time at least.
One hour later. "Chester's owner please". We are led to a small examination room with a Veterinarian anxiously holding a clipboard. He sighs before he starts asking us questions. We know exactly where this is going. We confirmed his medical history and what led us to this point. Then it's time for him to let us know the script.
Chester isn't looking good. He's struggling to breathe and based on an X-Ray he has an insanely large mass, bigger than a football. Have we noticed his shape change over the past year? he asks. Well yeah in fact we had, his stomach looks like he's been pregnant since New Year, something I specifically queried my original Vet about at Chester's yearly checkup and was told it was nothing to worry about (in hindsight they probably thought because he was a little overweight that he just a had a wee tummy going on but they never even attempted to examine him because once again they are irritated by his anxious behaviour). This Vet looked perplexed by this. He said that it's one of the most sinister looking masses he's ever encountered.
We are presented with 3 options.
1) Try and keep Chester going through the night until his morning appointment where they'll be able to be more thorough.
2) Have Chester undergo surgery from a non-specialist surgeon who can't guarantee that he'll still be breathing once he's zipped back up regardless of the outcome of the surgery (Shoutout to this Vet, he was 100% upfront about his abilities and gave us his genuine opinion and was an absolute professional).
3) Put him down.
We were given some time to think on it and ultimately, based on all the information we'd been given, decided that the best thing for Chester was to put him to sleep. It wasn't an easy decision. Duh. We wanted him to suffer no longer.
Vet comes back in, we give him our thoughts, he evidently believes it's for the best based on the situation and gives us a rundown of how it'll work.
He goes to retrieve Chester so that we can spend some time with him before he goes for his big sleep. Unfortunately his heart rate has slowed down and it's looking like he won't make it any longer. So the Vet had to quickly Euthanise him. He was gone. He is gone.
I break down as the Vet says "It looks like Chester tried to make the decision for you".
So yeah he was about to die after we'd already decided to put him to sleep. I'm devastated.
Utterly devastated. I can't stop thinking about him. He was my best friend and he's gone.
The worst part of this all is that had I chosen to forego the emergency Vet, I would have woken up to find him lying dead.
Goodbye Chester my Beautiful Bearded Bastard.