We never - ever - thought that we would be writing these words as soon as we are forced to.

Phoebe crossed the "Rainbow Bridge" on June 24, 2005. She was barely 3 1/2 years old, and after battling a rampant infection for over 6 weeks, she became septic and lost her fight. We made the most awful and difficult - yet selfless and humane - decision at 10pm on June 24, 2005 at Tufts University Veterinary School.

Even to the very end when they brought her out for "good-byes" - she showed a flash of energy and gave us both loads of kisses. We were ready right then to just run out with her - but this "flash" of energy only lasted a few minutes. As the doctors reminded us, without Herculean medical intervention - a virtual repeat of the prior 6 weeks of studies, surgeries, tests, treatments, drugs, and scans - she would not make it through the night. And even with the medical intervention, the likelihood of her surviving was very unlikely.

Those of you who know and love animals can probably relate to that moment - it's one of the most difficult, heartbreaking, miserable experiences. For us, having spend the better part of the last 6 weeks in various hospitals and vet's offices, this was an unexpected, unplanned, and unbelievable outcome.

This has been a devastating time for us - words just don't quite express the sadness, emptiness, anger, guilt, or disbelief. Phoebe was our first dog - and was such a sweet and gentle soul that everyone she met fell in love with her instantly. The unfairness of her being taken at such a young age - from a couple of smitten Dads who doted on her as an only child - after so much medical intervention, prevention -- it's more than we can really bear to think about.

We have Phoebe-shaped holes in our hearts - and it's going to take a long time to heal. We've bandaged ourselves up as best we can - but we know there will be a scar for life. We weren't done loving her - by a long shot.

For the many people who have sent their prayers, well-wishes, and condolences, we thank you so very much.

---

Update: 5-August: We've just received Phoebe's autopsy results. Poor Phoebe went through hell at the end. The doctor from Tufts (the last place we went) described her pathology report as “extremely remarkable” – there was dead (previously infected) tissue on her heart, lungs, and the infection appeared to have also affected (damage from inflammation to) her liver, kidneys, pancreas, small intestines, bladder … as well as spleen, which was removed during her surgery in May.

I guess the only comfort that the doctor was able to offer me was that she really didn’t have any chance of survival – the damage was too widespread, especially to her heart and lungs – and we did the right thing. Of course I’m questioning if we waited too long … but I can’t dwell on that now.

Based on her history and the lab results, the doctor believed that the infection originated in her bladder or kidneys and was a highly resistant strain. I asked him “was she doomed from last year when she had the bladder infection” and while he couldn’t say with certainty, he did agree with my hypothesis that if we hadn’t treated the bladder infection as aggressively as we did over the last year, she would not have survived this last year.

So, dear friends, BE VIGILENT about stones and bladder infections. We thought that we were staying on top of things, but as it turns out, we were not successful. I'm trying to avoid the "would've, could've, should've" line of thinking - because we did so much with diet, bi-weekly urine tests, nearly monthly vet visits ... but I wonder if the long-term use of antibiotics wasn't a contributing factor (she was on Baytril or Clavamox for 6 of the last 12 months of her life... for bladder infections).

On a happier note - we're hoping to celebrate thanksgiving with a new Bichon. We decided to start the ball rolling now - knowing it will be a few months away. We have become a "dog" family, and not having one in our lives doesn't feel "right". We know we will never replace Phoebe - she's etched a very unique place in our souls that will never be quite filled.

_______________________________________

Back to  Page 1 (and happier times...)