A few of you already know about my baby because of my thread on the emergency/sick forum, but I wanted to make an official thread here.
On 1/1/2018, I lost my precious baby boy, Binky. It was the absolute worst way to bring in the new year.
He was only 8 years old, and every day I get angry because it isn't fair that he was taken from me so soon!
In September 2016, he gave us quite a scare when he was diagnosed with Inflammatory Bowel Disease secondary to Protein Losing Enteropathy. Luckily, we found an amazing internal medicine specialist who got him on the right medications and prescription foods to keep him trucking along. He saw her every 2-3 mos, and sure meds had to be adjusted towards his labs every so often, but nothing major. He was holding steady!
Fast forward to December 2017, Binky's labs started to decline again. No big deal, let's adjust those medications to get him over this hump. Over Christmas, he got to travel out of town with us and everyone who met him just fell in love with him. He was a little charmer.
When we got back home, we took him back into see the specialist to see if his labs had improved with the med adjustment (they always had!) but this time they didn't. His labs were even worse. She wanted to keep him in their ICU to give him medications intravenously and monitor him closely.
Each day, the vet called to report that Binky was looking OK, but his labs were still declining despite all their interventions. He also wasn't having much of an appetite. Every day I went to visit so I could love on him, help feed him/clean him up, anything I could do just to be near him.
I remember on 12/31 crying all day long. Just so sad that things might be going south. I kept getting so afraid of him not getting better. The next day 1/1, I went to visit him and for whatever reason that day, I felt more optimistic. I felt hopeful that he would get better. I attempted to feed him at the end of our visit and he wasn't having it. He kept trying to climb in my lap, so I just gave him what he wanted and snuggled him. We cuddled for half an hour, and he fell asleep on my chest until the vet technician came in to tell me what interventions they planned to do next and the plan for the evening and that she'd see me in the morning.
If I had known that would be my last time to snuggle with my baby, I would've never let him go. I told him to be a good boy and let the vet tech give him medicine and help him so he could get better and go bye bye with mommy! I left and drove home. As I walked into my apartment, my boyfriend noticed that I was a bit more hopeful and optimistic than I was the day before. He liked that and said that made him feel good. (he did not go visit this day because it hurt him to see binky with lines in his IV and not feeling well, and he just figured he'd see him home soon!) and while we were talking, the vet called me to say that Binky had went into cardiac arrest.
My world stopped at that very moment. I felt my stomach in my throat and I could hear my heartbeat in my ears.
He assured me they were doing everything they could, but he wanted me to know because it's rare that they are able to successfully resuscitate a dog.
A few minutes later, my phone rang again, and I knew it wasn't good. I couldn't answer my phone. My boyfriend answered and delivered the news I already knew.
My baby boy was gone. Just like that. I had just seen him a half hour before. I was snuggling with him and all was right in the world because he was with me and I knew he was going to get better and come home.
We went up to the vet to see him one last time. I wanted to see him, but I was also scared to see him. I decided I wasn't going to look at his face (since his eyes were still open and I had seen him so recently alive, I didn't want my last picture of him to be him after he passed). I pet him and loved on him, and I could've fallen asleep just laying there with him. I never wanted to leave his side again. I felt so guilty for not being able to save him.
It's been almost 2 weeks, and the days aren't getting any easier. Not even a little bit. I still cry every day. I still find myself reaching for him next to me on the couch.
I am heartbroken and lost.