A few months ago, I filled you in on Miah’s Story – Part 1, 2 and 3.  It was painful and to write, but I was hopeful that by sharing her struggles and how many times she persevered, the universe might decide to help her triumph over her disease again.

In the last two months, Miah has lost most of the use of her back two legs. She has sensation and continues to try to plant her feet when I help her walk, but soon gives up and allows them just to drag behind her. Miah’s upper body is still strong and she used her front legs to navigate the apartment, but even so she has stopped attempting many excursions alone.

She eats, she plays, she hurls herself off the couch when I get home and “runs” to greet me.  She is still intensely motivated by food and new toys, and on her better days she will play obnoxiously until we can’t stand the squeaker in her toys any longer.

Miah saw the vet at home a few times over the summer, and Cindy did her best to pair the right herbs with a new approach in her acupuncture treatment.  She had some pretty drastic swings in mood and physical ability, but I asked Cindy if she thought that the time was near.  From a woman who has been in the veterinary field for most of her life, she told me no.  Miah hadn’t lost her drive, her spirit, and her love of life just yet.

Miah-1

Now back in Virginia, Scott and I are both at work all day. We get home and let the dogs “walk” (Ivan walks, Miah and I struggle behind) and try to play with them as much as we can. I hate that she isn’t outside on the lawn all day long, watching horses and pretending she can run after the cats. I feel like her mood has shifted now that she is apartment bound, though she still seems interested in life.

There is more to her disease that is affecting her internal processes, and while I can see the lack of her mobility, what pains me is what I can’t see.

Here is where I am sure to cry myself to hysterics – at her appointment a few days ago, I was speaking to a woman in the waiting room about her dog and the degenerative myelopothy he has. She told me that the thing she missed the most was seeing his tail wag. And it occurred to me, after so many months, that I can’t remember the last time the happiest dog in the world wagged her tail – not because she doesn’t want to, but because she can’t anymore. I forgot that her tail is included in the area of lost use, and every day I have been haunted by this fact.

Anyone who has ever had a dog for a soul mate knows the angst in my situation – when is it time? I feel like the responsibility to keep or end a life should not be in my power, and I resent the fact I have to think about it. Selfishly, I want my dog for the rest of my life – a wish I know is impossible. I fear for Ivan, who will also lose his best friend of 9 years, and how I won’t be able to explain to him what went wrong and why she is gone.

I grew up with animals, and I have seen many of them put down after a long life or a long fight. But I have never been in the position to put down an animal who is so firmly planted in my life and in my soul that I can’t imagine saying goodbye.

Miah-2

So how do you know? When is it time to make a decision that she can’t make for herself?

-Al