The one thing everyone kept telling me after having my heart attacks was “No more babies.” So instead, hubby goes out and adopts puppies. Not just one, but three. Actually, one was given and the other two were adopted from families who couldn’t care for them anymore for personal reasons.
It was a lot of work caring and raising a jack Russell chihuahua mix, and two yorkies.
Last month, we announced that our yorkie girl was prego. Well, she had the pups days later.
Bubbles is her name and she gave birth to FIVE beautiful pups. She did a great job delivering.
Everything was going well. Their tails got docked on the third day: then they started to crawl by the second week, walk by the third, got out of their whelping box by the fourth, eating on the fifth, and now onto their 6th week.
But there was one pup that captured my heart and the heart of my daughter, Myella. We called her Baby.
Baby would walk up to Myella and Myella would pick her up right away and embrace her and gives kisses galore. Ermer and I agree that we would keep Baby just for Myella.
But Baby didn’t feel well recently. I went to do my daily clean up and check up on them and noticed that she was a little wobbly and stubbly. I took her to the vet right away. I told hubby and he was a bit hesitant about me wanting to go through the check up.
We went to the Pet Emergency Clinic near Regal Cinemas. I met Dr. Ben-Ari and he was super sensitive and nice about Baby’s care plan. He went over labs and his assessment with me, and he pretty much said, “Baby is dying.” We didn’t know from what, but because she’s so little, they can’t do much to help with surgery or even replace an organ unlike humans. I held my emotion in and waited to speak to hubby about what to do. Our options were to admit her into the clinic and do everything they can to save her or euthanize her. Hubby and I wanted to take Baby home and gave faith to try and help her better, or die naturally at home.
We were determined to help Baby survive. We fed her every 2-3 hours with milk replacement and water. We played with her, we helped her walk, and kept her warm.
She seemed to be doing so well. When morning came, she looked hopeful and even walked looking for me. She came when I said come and then she laid down and was tired. Poor Baby, I picked her up and held her against my skin. She did cry a lot though. So in the afternoon, I took her to her mommy and her siblings. There she stopped crying for a few hours, but she still just laid there.
Hubby wanted me to keep her there for the rest of the night so that the mommy can care for her, but I told him that’s 12 hours without guarantee that she will be nursed. So hubby brought her and Bubbles (the mommy) over to the hotel.
Baby looked restless. The kids got to see her and Myella was excited. But I had to make sure they let Baby rest.
Finally, it was time for bed, and the kids were brought over to Nanay’s room in the hotel so that we could care for the puppy.
After they left, it was time for me to feed Baby. But I noticed that Baby wasn’t responding to the bottle feeding… Not a gulp or a flinch. Her chest was still rising, but her eyes… Her eyes had this blank state… A look that I once saw in a gerbil I had when I was a teen. He died… Which meant she was going to die… Soon, very soon…
My heart was breaking and I could see the pattern. I don’t have medicine, I don’t have labs, I don’t have instruments to see how I could help this poor pup. I felt helpless… We can’t afford to pay for her hospital care so the only option was to euthanize her. We chose neither. And it was so unfair! Poor girl, she’s only 5 1/2 weeks old!
At 9:45 p.m., Baby stretched, shivered a little, and took her last breath… Hubby saw. There was no more chest rise, no crying, no heartbeat.
I couldn’t hold it anymore. I went straight to the bathroom and cried… And cried… And cried.
Only a day after we notice she was sick, she passes away. It’s very heartbreaking. I told hubby, “No more babies.” He saw the tears roll down my eyes and he saw how hurt I was. He promised me that everything was going to be ok.
I realize that my husband is my assurance and when he says everything is going to be okay, then it’s going to be okay.
I’m crying… And it’s ok to cry.