[Gotdesl]

Since right before Christmas, my 9 year old female rottweiler, Raven, has had a rough time to put it lightly. I have watched her slowly lose her appetite and losing muscle mass rapidly. In a couple of weeks, her muscle tone was gone and her muscle mass was scary in it's lack. She even ceased looking like a rottweiler in a lot of respects. During this time, a mass was discovered in her spleen and I was faced with a tough decision. I had to choose between euthanizing her, and a splenectomy with a poor prognosis. Quickly, I realized that I had been feeling this mass for at least a year, but didn't realize what it was. After deliberating for a week and making Raven feel like she had won the lottery, I realized that this old girl had a lot of fight left and I would be short-changing her if I were to not give her a chance. The surgery went very well, and Raven was even discharged earlier than expected. Within the week, she was an entirely different dog. She was bouncy and happier than she had been in a long time. It had definitely uncovered some puppiness that had been covered for a long time. Shortly though, it started to become apparent that not everything was wonderful. Her abdomen started to quickly fill with fluid. Her white blood cell count was climbing through the roof. I had one of the vets that assisted during the surgery suggest that something may have been nicked. With every indication of a massive infection, I knew that sepsis was a likely culprit. The vets were suggesting exploratory surgery, while I knew that my girl had been through more than enough. I finally had the vets put her on IV antibiotics and hospitalization for 48 hours to see if there was any chance for a response. On Monday, her white cell count was so high, it exceeded the capability of the CBC equipment. I had already taken off of work for what I suspected I would have to do. I stopped on the way to the vet and picked up an ice cream. When I finally saw her, I knew that there was no option. I spent the next half hour with my sweet girl just talking and feeding her ice cream. Finally, she put her head down in my lap. I knew it was time for the vet to come in. Raven passed with her head in my lap, with us looking into each other's eyes, and feeling her breath on my face. She went peacefully, and quickly, trusting me to keep her safe the whole time. I was glad that I could be there for her at the end.

RIP Raven You will always be my "BBD", my "Momma Dog", my "Booger Butt", and my protector. 1999-2008