Roscoe was a beagle mix that I had rescued from my local shelter November 7 1998 when he was six months old. Almost immediatetly we knew we had problems with him because he urinated quite frequently. I worked at a vet at the time so I brought him in for testing and they said it was nothing, just decrease his water intake.
Well the urinating problem seemed to be over, but a new problem arose. Roscoe became a very picky eater, who very often vomited after meals. Once again a trip to the vet, this time they told me it was food allergies so they put him on a steroid. I know too many steroids cause kidney and liver damage so I stopped using them shortly.
On October 15 of this year I awoke to Roscoe vomiting in his crate and I discovered that he also had soiled it. I rushed him to the vet assuming once again that he was having food allergies or maybe a parasite. What the vet found out made my heart stop and head spin. He informed me that my four year young dog had renal kidney failure. Well that was phase one…Roscoe spent four painful nights away from home recieving medication, fluids, injections, and bloodwork. The vet said that if it was a bacterial infection maybe we could fix it.
One week later I recieved the call that tore my heart out. The vet informed me it was not a parasite, but a hereditary condition that they couldn’t treat. All the meds they gave him were useless.
So began phase two…he stopped eating and I found out that he lost 25lbs in one year. I thought for sure he was going to die at home. One night I ordered some thai food and to my amazement Roscoe wanted to eat chicken satay!! So I ordered him 3 more servings; hey if he was eating I would have ordered him anything he wanted. Well that week he perked up, he was playing, eating, and generally seemed happy.
I really wanted my mom and dad to see him before he got any worse because he grew up in their home. So on Wednesday October 30 we went over there. He played with my uncle and brothers dog. He said goodbye to my mom and dad.
Phase three…..Thursday morning Roscoe was acting strange and seemed as if it was difficult to walk up and down the stairs. By thursday night we realized that he had gone blind and he was urinating on himself alot. Friday morning he couldn’t walk up the stairs and I live on the third floor. We all cried because we knew that the best thing to do was to put him down the following day. Saturday morning my dad and cousin came over; we all spent the morning showering him with attention. The last thing Roscoe saw outside that morning was the Metra train that blew it’s horn at him as if to say goodbye.
See Roscoe chased trains when he was in his prime. We walked into the vet and he very nobelly climbed onto the exam table and wagged his tail one last time for he was finally happy.
You Are My Hero,
| Kristy Williamson |