WARNING: THIS POST IS A TOTAL DOWNER
Our little girl, our first baby, born just two days after we got married and home with us just 8 weeks later, got sick. After a few trips to the vet's office at the beginning of winter, she was diagnosed with cancer of the bladder, which had spread to the urethra, the surrounding lymph nodes, and likely into the liver. A tiny tumor at the base of the bladder made it nearly impossible for her to go to the bathroom, and would have ultimately resulted in a ruptured bladder and a very painful death. It was a very nasty diagnosis for our sweet, sweet beagle, a very sudden end to her life, and a crushing blow to our family.
It was early February when the vet started to prepare us for a nasty outcome. This girl had lived a good nine and a half years on this Earth, but we made sure the last several weeks of it were pretty epic. Virtually unlimited pillow usage (even the good ones on the couch!), treats, peanut butter, ice cream, and even premium canned dog food with rabbit meat. The world was her oyster, but unfortunately our time was even more limited than we thought. Her diagnosis was confirmed via ultrasound on February 16. At that time, we were still hoping for weeks, if not months, of time left with her. We engaged an in-home hospice vet to help us with pain management and palliative care for her remaining time, trying to keep her as comfortable and pain-free as possible, all the while knowing we were fighting against a ticking time bomb. It was only nine days after diagnosis that we made the decision to end her life, in peace, and on our terms.
The vet, Dr. Laurie Brush with
Heaven at Home Pet Hospice, made the whole process seamless. However painful, there was great beauty in the way we say goodbye. I held her on her spot on the couch the entire time, with Kyle right at our side. We held her, and we wept, so relieved to give her peace, and so devastated over our loss. (We also laughed a little, because this little 26 pound beagle, under heavy sedation, was snoring louder than your average 400 pound man. It was not an entirely graceful exit for our Lacey, but the humor was welcome). We held her after her heart stopped, and we said our final goodbyes. The vet wrapped her in a blanket and carried her out of our house in a little basket. I think Pup would have appreciated such a comfy ride. It was very much her style.
In what was maybe my worst/best idea of all time, we had a photographer over to the house just a few days before we put her down. The shoot was incredibly informal and almost completely unposed. I asked that she capture images of our life with Lacey, as well as images of our girl and her Beagle Beauty. These images were nearly impossible to preview (I am actually writing this post a full six months past the date of it, if that gives you any idea how raw these wounds remain), but they will be treasured forever.
Rest in peace, Lacey Purdy. You were so loved.
8/15/05 - 2/25/15
