Parting

On Friday May 23rd at about 4:00 PM we put Jupiter down. I have to say the pain of the experience has been more intense than I expected.

Jupiter came home from that fateful veterinarian appointment two weeks before and seemed unchanged in many ways. We fed him only soft food from then on, and at first he wasn't sure about it, but then realized it was awesome. He looked forward to meal times, which I began to conduct in the kitchen so I could give him his antibiotic and so I could see that he was eating. This was an added treat for him, being allowed in the house to eat. At times he seemed so normal it was hard to believe that he was dying. Mike even wondered if he might not live another year or two despite the tumor. The kids willingly took Jupiter on daily walks, and he seemed excited by all the added attention. When word got out around the neighborhood that his days were numbered all the neighbor kids made a point to love on him more than ever. I am sure his last weeks were a pleasure to him.

His last Sunday, 5 days before he died:


DSCN6638 from Angie Melton on Vimeo.

One week after his diagnosis Mike looked in his mouth and could see that the tumor was almost twice as big as before. And at that point we knew that it wouldn't be long. On Thursday he seemed more unwilling to get out of bed or to eat his food, though he finally did. That was his last meal. He refused to eat anymore Thursday and started to bleed again. Mike washed out his mouth that evening and brought him to sit on the grass while he mowed. Jupiter stayed close by. He tried to take him on a walk around the block and for the first time EVER Jupiter refused to go for a walk. He stopped on the sidewalk in front of the house next door, and would go no further. I think we all knew the time had come.

On Friday morning I asked Jessie to take Jupiter out in the morning. She came back and told me he wouldn't come. Together we were finally able to coax him outside, but he seemed like he was too weak to stand. Again he refused to eat. He actually approached his dish at one point like he was hungry, but then turned away. He drank a little water here and there, and it seemed like the bleeding had stopped. I took his bed out to the back patio so he could lay on it. The kids who were home loved on him for a long time. I couldn't get a hold of Mike so I called my mom to ask what I should do. Should I call the vet and make an appointment for him to be put down? Should I wait? The long Memorial Day weekend was starting, so I knew we had to decide right away. I also knew I couldn't do it by myself. Mom said if I needed, my dad would come and take him to the vet for me. I have goodly parents.

I called the veterinarian's office and I am sure I sounded so foolish. I could hardly get the words out to explain who I was and what I wanted and as soon as I did I started to cry to the lady on the phone. She was very compassionate. I am sure I wasn't the first blubbering pet owner she's talked to. She told me their availability, and that they would be closed Sunday and Monday for the holiday. I had to make the call. It had to either be that day or wait until the next Tuesday, three days away.  I made an appointment for 3:00 that afternoon. Then I called Mike.

I had a hard time leaving Jupiter at all that day, but when I was with him I felt overwhelmed with emotion. I talked to him about the day we picked him out at the shelter. I talked to him about how Noble specifically wanted the big hyper black lab, and then named him Jupiter the Space Donkey after being bowled over by him on the grass.  I talked to him about what a good dog he had been, and how much we loved him, and thanked him for loving us. Toward the end of his life there seemed to be a gravity in his eyes when he looked at you, a knowing look. Not necessarily knowing that the end was coming but knowing his place, if that makes sense. I loved him more than ever the last few years because of that old-dog wisdom, and his patience.

That day was surreal. Going through the daily motions, with this looming trauma. I tried to make him comfortable. I tried to spend time with him. But then I had to get busy so I wouldn't be so overwhelmed by sadness. He laid on his bed all day. I went back and forth between marking the moment with Jupiter, talking to him about what he means to us, crying and caressing him, and trying to be cheerful and normal with him to make his last day less depressing. Friday was a tough day (not just because of Jupiter - we had some other bad news in the family that added to the blackness of the day). I cried almost the entire day. I had to compose myself long enough to pick up some sushi at Harmon's and take it to Grace at school for her birthday lunch. I also had to think about the fact that  Mike and I had tickets that night to 311, and had a whole overnight trip planned around it. It was the last thing I felt like doing on a day like that, but we had the tickets and the hotel reservation...

At 1:00 I picked the younger kids up from school and broke the news.  There were many tears. Then I went to the grocery store to pick up a few things for the kids and Grandma and Grandpa who would be staying the night with them. From there I went straight to check Jessie out of school early so she could come with us to take Jupiter (she'd made me promise I would). Mike got home at about 3:00. We had to rush to get Jupiter to the vet, but first we had all the kids say their goodbyes, and Noble asked to take one last family picture with him. I am glad we did. Even though I definitely look like I'd been crying all day and un-showered...which was the reality.

 The girls both wanted to come to the vet with us. Noble absolutely refused to go. I understood. He and Tillman stayed home with the little boys.
Jupiter seemed to perk up at the end, to the point that we wondered if we were making the right decision. He even jumped up into the back of the Expedition himself. When we got to the vet they took us into a side room with a sofa and a dog bed that they apparently use specifically for saying goodbye. I appreciated that because I didn't want to sob in front of people.

When the veterinarian's assistants brought the paperwork for us to sign we asked if the Dr. would look at him one more time to make sure we weren't jumping the gun or anything. He came back and talked to us for a while. He looked at Jupiter's mouth and showed us the growth of the tumor. He also said it was very normal for an animal to perk up like that with the car ride and the new sights and smells.  Still Mike and I were a little unsure. They told us they were fine with whatever we decided to do. But as we thought about it, we knew that this was the best decision. We didn't want to make him suffer through not eating for 3 more days before the office would be open again, and before he was so bad off that there would be no question that it was time. The Dr. said he was strong enough to probably survive the weekend without eating but that it would just be prolonging the inevitable, and that once they stop eating things go downhill very fast. We decided to go through with it.
I expected that they would take him to the examination rooms to do it, but they actually put him down right there in the room with us. I was grateful, but it was very hard. They took him back to put a catheter port in his leg, and then brought him back. The vet explained the procedure.  Mike got down on the ground with Jupiter. The girls and I sat on the couch and held a hand on him through the process. The Dr. gave him the first shot that made Jupiter fall asleep. When he slumped down with the first dose, it all became real and I could not stop crying. Then he gave the second drug that would stop his heart. The vet listened to Jupiter's heart till it stopped beating and Mike watched Jupiter's eyes. He said they glassed over about the time the vet whispered that he was gone.
We cried. A lot.
This experience was painful...but I wouldn't change it. We had ten years with a dog who was sometimes a source of frustration, and once or twice, a police visit, but mostly love and joy and fun. He grew up with our children. He made us laugh. He lived to be with us and make us happy. How cool is that? Dogs are noble creatures.
 It was so painful to watch him decline. It was SO painful to have to choose to end his life. It is painful now to live every day without Jupiter the Space Donkey in our world. I wish he could have stayed with us longer. But the memories are wonderful. We love that dog. I don't think we knew how much we loved him till the end. Isn't that always how it is? We take so many things for granted. We look forward to seeing him in heaven some day if that is possible. I hope so.

So Mike and I made it to the show that night. I didn't feel like going, but we went.

One of Mike's favorite 311 songs is called "Jupiter". Unknown to me, Mike had sent out a tweet before the show and tagged members of the band. On our way to the hotel room after the show, Mike checked Twitter, and discovered that P-nut (aka Aaron Wills, bass player for 311) had tweeted back.

 That was awesome. It made me smile at the end of a long and emotionally exhausting day.  Respect to Jupiter indeed.

As a post script, it will be a comfort for some of you to know that Jupiter was taken by the vet to be buried at his farm in Delta, the land of our nativity, and now the land of Jupiter's inheritance.

Jupiter the Space Donkey
2004-2014
RIP
Forever in our hearts.

Bad News for the Space Donkey

This morning bright and early I dropped Jupiter off for what we hoped would just be a tooth extraction. A few hours later I got a phone call from an old neighbor, the father of my best friend growing up -- who happens to be a vet at this office and called to break the news to me himself (thank your dad for me, Bren). Gil, aka: Dr. Orme, said that it was bad news. The swelling was from a tumor, not an abscess.

Jupiter the Space Donkey has cancer.

Dr.Orme laid out our options -- but really the best option is to enjoy the time we have with him, and put him down as his quality of life diminishes. He was concerned that the cancer may have already spread to his bones, because he was very anemic and his body doesn't seem to be making new blood cells.

So...not sure how much time Jupiter has. Maybe a week or two? Maybe months? Gil said it depends on how aggressive the tumor is, and there's no way to know.

I cried a little on the way to the veterinarian's office to pick him up.

Yesterday I hoped that we might have more than a few years left with him, and now today it looks like it will be even less than we thought. I explained everything to the kids this afternoon, and told them we just needed to make the most of the time he has left. It will be hard to say good bye, but I am really grateful that he won't have to suffer through years of old age before he dies. Other than the tumor, he is in fantastic health for his age. Now, as he begins to loose quality of life we will know what we're dealing with, and can put him down. Good old boy.

These two are the same age...they've grown up together. 

Of Note

It's Mothers Day 2014. As a Mother, these are the things I value. Memories.

Easter Morning 2014 (tired out after arriving home the night before from Goblin Valley)

Sully starring as "The Spoon" in the kindergarten program. Look at that gleam in his eye! He delivered his lines with panache  (eliciting laughter from the audience with his comedic timing), and executed his dance sequence with "The Dish" flawlessly. He was outstanding!

Big kids all: the Melton's are now a crib-less family. Abner graduated to Sully's bed and Sully graduated to Noble's old bed...(the older boys got new beds.)  With this milestone, and the recent registration of our oldest child in high school, all that remains is to clear the potty training hurdle, and we will be well on our way to "older family" status (as opposed to "young family"). Time is slipping away.

Another clue that life is changing: Jupiter the Space Donkey has lost some of his spring. I took him to the vet this weekend to look at a bleeding sore in his mouth. It looks like it's just an abscess. They are going to pull one of his teeth tomorrow. They said they will know if it's anything more serious once they get the tooth out, and get a better look.

At the vet's office I couldn't help but notice how grey his muzzle was as he sat on the waiting room floor...while younger, more energetic dogs trotted through. It occurred to me that the staff seemed to be especially gentle with him, talking to him sweetly, like they would a very old and infirm person. They told me over and over what a nice boy he was, and patient.
 I thought about our years with him. It's funny how all the obnoxious things he does/used to do suddenly become so endearing. We've known he is getting older, but the other day we happened to read that a lab's average life span is 10-12 years.

I hope we have longer than that.

He is 10.5.

Here he is taking it easy after his evening dose of medicine. Back to the vet in the morning.