The next morning was a clear, crisp fall day. The K-State vet had already called my vet to discuss coming to our house to put Shayla down. That morning, we fed her some turkey and treats. She was lying there with me and my husband was outside with the bobcat digging her grave. All the other dogs were outside with him and she kept straining her ears hearing the bobcat. My husband came back in and laid down beside her and starting playing with her and she was growling and playing back like she always does. My husband went to the vet to get 10 pills that would help her relax and be groggy by the time he came over at noon. I pulled her into the living room where the sunshine was streaming through the bay windows. I put on the soundtrack to "Somewhere in Time" and "Kenny G's Christmas" to try and get her to relax. She refused to eat and hardly took the pills, but we finally got them in her around 10am. I got a brush out and started brushing her to help her (and me) relax. She was in a down stay looking at me and I was petting her and telling her I love her. She then did something that just broke my heart. She could only pivot due to her back end not being able to move and she moved away from me. Not knowing why she did that, I moved over to where she was at and she again pivoted away from me. I cried and told her to please not hate me for what was happening. I just let her relax and around 12 noon, the vet arrived. The other dogs were outside and he came in and looked at the x-rays the other vet took and said yes, that's what it was...cancer. We talked for a few minutes and he asked if it was time. I got down on the floor beside Shayla and my husband got on the other end and I put my arm down and Shayla (who had pulled herself up to a down stay when the vet walked in) suddenly laid her head down on my arm and didn't move. She normally is jumpy when someone touches her paws but when the vet took her arm to shave it, she didn't flinch. When he shaved her arm, she didn't flinch. He got out the needle and solution and put it into her arm. She never flinched. We petted her and told her we loved her and we'd see her again someday and told her what a good girl she was. He undid the tourniquet and she took 3 deep breaths and was gone. My husband was crying, but I somehow felt SO at peace. Not because she was no longer in pain or suffering, but because average life span for rotties is 8-10 yrs of age and she was almost 10 1/2 so I felt she lived a wonderful life.
My husband brought in her gurney and he and the vet tried to put this her gently into the small gurney (which was JUST big enough to barely get her in). They almost dropped her and I guess it was Shayla's way of inserting a little humor from Rainbow Bridge to us (we always used to tease her for her "svelte" waistline"). Poor Shayla. Anyway, they got her in the box and it was so small that she had to be placed with her head and nose down a little so it wouldn't squish her nose. The bad thing was my husband had to go to work and couldn't bury her right then, so I told him to leave her, it was cool enough in the house that she'd be fine. After the vet left, we let the other dogs in and they came running in sniffing wondering who had been there. They came into the living room and they all sniffed around Shayla and just dropped and laid quietly all around her and the living room. It's like they knew. So after my husband left for work, I just laid there with her in the living room with all the other dogs coming up to me and sitting beside me. I got up after the sun went down, but kept the soothing music on. I would come in every hour and pet Shayla and give her a kiss. I wish I would have snipped off some hair, but didn't think about it (darn it). The next morning, we got up and I came downstairs and Shayla had been moved. My husband informed me that she was beginning to smell a little, so he put her outside in the sunshine and cool air. He finished putting on the remaining side of her coffin and made a lid for it. I wrote in magic marker on the lid and we went downstairs and made a sign with her picture on it and date of birth and death and wrote a little eulogy to her and laminated it and put it in her coffin along with a hoof and a tug rope. We sealed it and we buried her. After he covered her up, we noticed the dogs were actually laying on the top of the dirt mound or around the area where the mound was and would not leave. That was Thanksgiving Day. Wahoo, what a way to celebrate. We went in and all of us including the rest of the dogs stuffed ourselves silly with turkey and dressing and yams and pie and ate some for Shayla.
While I don't know exactly what Shayla died from, I can only assume it was bone cancer as that would be the only thing I could think of that would eat bone away in her vertebrae. Of course, it happened so fast that we didn't even think of getting an autopsy done to determine it. Knowing what I know now about bone cancer, I feel horribly guilty for not giving her more pain management besides just normal analgesics. I know she must have been in extreme pain, but I wasn't seeing that. I thought it was something else unrelated to pain and didn't know about stronger pain meds and didn't know on insisting on them if she had little time left. So for that, I feel terrible knowing I put my baby through needless suffering. We had also not even thought about cremation or anything and I had asked the vet when he came out, but he said it was like $200-$300 and due to it being the day before a holiday, we really didn't want her to sit around for a few days until Friday to get cremated, so we buried her. Now I wish I would have opted for cremation to have her with her always. But she went downhill so quickly, we didn't have time to think or make arrangements for much of anything except how to keep her comfortable and to figure out what the heck was wrong with her.
Shayla was my very first rottie and we took her everywhere with us. She was so gentle and so loving and so good with people, kids, other dogs, etc. I so wanted her to become a therapy dog, but never did do it because Shayla was scared of loud noises like gunshots so I figured she wouldn't have passed her CGC, even though she was a wonderful ambassador to the breed. She taught me a lot about loving unconditionally and always being positive. She was a great friend and companion and she will forever live on in my heart.
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