Date: Mon, 02 Apr 2007 16:06:28 -0700
From: Jules Francom
Subject: [WAMAL] A Tribute to Maya

I beg your indulgence as I share Maya's story...

 

I met Maya on a warm Sunday afternoon when I arrived at the Seattle
Animal Shelter to pull her for WAMAL.  I had volunteered to pick her
up, give her a long overdue grooming, and house her for a couple of
days until something long-term could be arranged.  Since taking in a
lost senior great dane, Sophie, last summer, I have felt unable to
take in any more long-term fosters, although the need has been
great.  Not in my wildest dreams could I imagine bringing a fifth dog
into my pack ~V particularly as they live indoors with me.  After
all, I felt that I had tempted fate when I took in Sophie on a
permanent basis and I believed that the only reason that had been
possible was because she is not a malamute.  So it was that I agreed
to take Maya on an emergency, short-term basis only.



I remember my surprise when I first saw her.  She was so tiny!  Not
at all like her picture had led me to expect.  That picture showed a
mass of hair that far and away surpassed that of any of my own dogs
and gave the impression of a leaning toward obesity.  And so I was
quite taken aback at her petite-ness.  Her age was obvious (13 years)
in her eyes primarily ~V they gave the impression of a great
weariness ~V and in the slowness of her gait.  And it appeared that
her head was simply too heavy for her to hold it up, so in order to
look at me she rolled her eyes up, rather than lift her head.  After
making our way, ever so slowly to my car, I picked her up with ease
and placed her in the back.

 

It was obvious from the smell that quickly permeated the car that we
would be going directly to the shop as this girl was in serious need
of a bath.  It was evident that Maya~Rs care had been seriously
lacking.  I had intended to shave out any matting, brush her out,
bathe her and then give her a trim to tidy up her coat.  If only it
had been that simple!  Her condition was absolutely deplorable and,
consequently, I had to shave her completely down!  It absolutely
broke my heart.  It was a slow, excruciating process and little Maya
was the picture of patience throughout!

 

Unfortunately, with the absence of her coat, I was confronted with
the true horror of Maya~Rs condition.  For hiding beneath that mass
of hair was nothing but sagging skin and protruding bones, with every
rib, every vertebra blatantly obvious, while her belly was seriously
distended.  It appeared she was seriously malnourished.  Moreover,
there remained the stain of metal around her neck ~V tight, against
her skin.  Now over the years I have seen and heard some horrifying
stories and yet I am still stunned when faced with something like
this.  I resolved to focus on the fact that Maya would have comfort
in her final years.

 

Maya~Rs introduction to her new housemates was like nothing I have
ever seen from my dogs.  There was none of the usual posturing and
intimidation.  No territorial issues at all.  As a matter of fact,
Maya was the only one that made a sound.  She absolutely came alive. 
Gone was all evidence of age and exhaustion.  She began barking
animatedly and growled at each one that approached despite the fact
that they all towered over her.  And through it all, her tail was
high and wagging furiously!  She was thrilled!  They, on the other
hand, were looking at her like she was mad!  What was all the
racket?  It was amazing.  And even on that first night, she stood
among them in the kitchen and they all ate dinner!  I have introduced
a number of malamutes to my home, none with such results.  It was
quite remarkable.

 

Despite her obvious exhaustion, Maya could not be convinced to even
sit, let alone lay down.  I tried pillows, blankets, a crate, a rug
~V she would have none of it and remained standing all evening.  She
was so tired that she was falling asleep standing up and would then
crash to the floor, scaring the shit out of everyone!  All the other
dogs would then jump up, so she would get back up too and it would
start all over again.  When bedtime arrived, I was at a complete
loss.  I mean, what was I going to do with her?  Prop her against a
wall?  I finally just picked her up and placed her on my bed
(something I never allow) where she collapsed in a heap and promptly
fell asleep.  I climbed in what little space she left to me and fell
asleep to the soft wheezing sounds of Maya~Rs breathing.

 

Maya~Rs ~Sjoy~T with her new housemates filled the air all day
Monday!  However, I began to be concerned over her swollen abdomen
and decided to get her checked out ~V I assumed it was malnutrition
and wanted advice on how to help her.  She was unable to climb
anything but a few stairs and I had to pick her up frequently and it
was obvious that my touching her belly was giving her discomfort.  I
couldn~Rt get her in to see the vet until Tuesday afternoon, so I
decided to take her to work with me on Tuesday.

 

Now I have never in my life walked a dog that moved so slowly!  My
normal two minute walk to work took 10 minutes with Maya in tow!  And
her habit of growling and barking at every other dog she encountered
posed a bit of a problem for some of my clients.  Therefore, I put
her in the small café (our lunchroom) with the door shut.  There I
could watch her on the monitor in the grooming room, but she
couldn~Rt get into any trouble.  She spent the day barking at every
dog that walked into the shop or walked by the shop or looked at the
shop or thought of the shop!  And she stood the whole day!  I was
simply amazed at her strong will.  And our walk back home that
afternoon?  20 minutes!!!  She was just too tired.

 

Unfortunately, at the vet that afternoon Maya was diagnosed with
right heart failure and advanced stage liver disease.  Her bloated
belly was full of fluid, and both her lungs were following suit. 
Moreover, the vet indicated that little Maya was looking at days,
maybe weeks, left to her, not the months or even years we had hoped
for her.  He would know more when all of her lab work was completed
the following day.  I suddenly remembered her soft wheezing while she
slept, her refusal to lie down.  And I had a vision of the way my
dogs had interacted with Maya since her arrival and it all became
clear.  I knew then that they deferred to her because they were
immediately aware of her fragile condition.

 

By the time I heard back from the vet the following day validating
his diagnosis, I had made my decision.  Not knowing how much time was
available to her, and given the odds ~V a million to one ~V that my
dogs would have so easily accepted her and her own apparent pleasure
in their company, I was determined that Maya would live out her days
here with us.  Yes, it was perhaps madness for me to take in a fifth
dog, but I simply could not not do it.  I knew that it would not be
easy and that the time may come when I would be forced to make a very
painful decision on her behalf, but I vowed to fill her days with all
the love I had to give.

 

And so began my journey with Maya through her final days.  She was my
constant companion.  She followed me absolutely everywhere.  Whenever
I approached her, her eyes would brighten and her tail was
immediately up and wagging.  At work, she continued to stand up the
whole time, but I knew that she would do the same at home and I was
unwilling to leave her alone for even a moment.  I would sit with her
for a while after completion of any given job and at least twice a
day we would make our way slowly over to Green Lake Park
for a potty break.  It was excruciatingly slow and I would frequently
sense the impatient frustration of the cars waiting at the busy
intersection, but I was unwilling to deny Maya her all too brief
outings.  Each morning our walk to work became slower and slower. 
Each evening, slower still.  Eventually, her incessant barking was
interrupted with periodic bouts of coughing and then gradually, she
lost even the energy for almost all barking, saving it only for her
morning greeting to the other dogs in whose presence she continued to
show such joy.  The growling stopped all together as that, too, would
induce coughing.

 

But it was our nights that became the true battleground because lying
down put too much pressure on her lungs.  After a couple of nights of
sleeping on my bed, I was able to convince her to sleep on a pillow
on the floor beside me.  It would take approximately an hour to get
her settled and then her breathing had to calm enough that she could
relax and sleep.  Each passing night brought more frequent
interruptions from the coughing and increased time to then settle
back to sleep.  By week~Rs end, she was again refusing to lie down at
all and she would stand with her head resting on the bed next to me
with her butt against the wall and fall asleep standing there. 
Without fail, just as I would finally succumb to sleep, she would
crash to the floor and we would start again.  So it was that a
pattern developed whereby throughout the night I felt I was doing her
a disservice somehow, but upon rising each morning I was met with her
happy tail thumping against the wall next to my bed and throughout
the day I witnessed her stubborn refusal to give in and I would then
think to myself that today was not the day.  Unfortunately, we were
both beginning to suffer from extreme exhaustion, so I resorted to
having her sleep on the bed again, as she was able to get more relief
there.

 

The diuretics that Maya was taking did not appear to be providing any
help at all and her breathing became so troubled when she lay down
that I called my vet seeking some kind of relief for Maya, short of
euthanasia.  We had been up all night and I was desperate.  I wanted
him to drain her lungs, even though he had already told me earlier in
the week that it was no longer a viable option for her.  You see, she
was deteriorating too quickly.  He reminded me that while draining
the lungs was very effective, it would be short lived because her
body was accumulating the fluids too rapidly at this point.  He told
me to bring her in.  We~Rll make room for you, he said.  Just give us
a call and we can end her misery.  I was sitting with Maya in the
café at work.  When I hung up the phone, I burst into tears.  She had
her heavy head laying on my knee and with her eyes rolled up looking
at me and her little tail wagging.  I very selfishly couldn~Rt do
it.  I convinced myself that I needed one more night~Rs evidence that
her time had come.  That I would actually be doing her a favor.  And
so I didn~Rt call him back.  I am a coward.  That last walk home from
the shop was by far our slowest.  Not only were we walking extremely
slowly, but we stopped for anything and everything that she wanted to
smell.  I let Maya take the lead as we made our way home.

 

When the time came to stop moving for the night, I tried to help Maya
lay down, but she absolutely refused.  So I left her standing.  Then
she would fall asleep and crash to the floor.  It was killing me. 
After a couple of hours of this, I picked her up and set her on her
blanket.  As I had done so many times before, I pushed on her butt
while I gently lifted a back leg so that she would lower onto her
side.  Once her butt was down, I lifted her front legs and pulled
them out in front of her so that she slowly lay down.  But this time,
as soon as her chest hit the blanket she let out a huge scream!  It
was horrible!  All the dogs came running.  I have never heard
anything like it.  My heart nearly stopped.  When she finally stopped
screaming, she lay still on the blanket.  I freaked out.  I was
certain that I had just killed her.  I was sobbing uncontrollably. 
And apologizing.  Over and over.  I hated myself at that moment. 
Then, she took a breath.  A very shallow breath.  And then another. 
And another.  I was beside myself.  She was very weak and could
barely move.  I kept apologizing.  I was ridiculous.  I realized that
she had passed out.  I~Rve seen it before.  Seen the slow recovery. 
But never preceded by that scream.  It really shook me up.  I knew in
that moment that it was time.  I would call my vet in the morning.

 

The only benefit of that horrible scene was that Maya was completely
drained of any and all energy.  Her breathing remained so shallow
that it did not induce the normal coughing and spitting up of mucus. 
So, last night, we slept from midnight until 6:30 a.m. when the other
dogs woke me up.  Maya remained on the bed without moving while I got
up and showered and dressed.  There was no wagging of the tail to
greet me.  Just her quiet eyes watching me.  I sat down beside her,
unsure if she would even get up, when she finally lifted her head and
put it on my leg.  I told her I knew it was time.  I told her I was
sorry I hadn~Rt taken care of it sooner.  I told her it was okay for
her to go.  That she would be missed.  That she was loved.  And I
thanked her for showing me such courage, such fortitude and such
brave determination in the face of her death.

 

I got up to go feed the dogs and she struggled to get up.  So I
picked her up and set her on the floor and she followed me to the
kitchen where she remained by my side as I fed the others.  She had
no interest in any food.  Her head looked so very heavy on her small,
bony frame and I put my hand under her chin to help her hold it up ~V
something I have been doing every day for the past two weeks ~V and
she let me hold it for her.  We eventually made our way to the living
room where, to my complete despair, she collapsed and screamed again,
repeating the horrific events of last night.  I lay down beside her
and when her shallow breathing began again, I held her head in my lap
and comforted her.  I have no idea what I said.  I just know that I
was determined to remain calm and soothing.  I wanted her to go
peacefully.  I don~Rt know how long we stayed there.  Her head in my
lap.  Her beautiful brown eyes never leaving my face.  I do know that
I asked her to go.  I told her it was time.  I begged her to go.  And
so it is that little Maya relieved me of the pain of making that
final decision on her behalf.

 

Perhaps it was unfair of me to keep her even that long.  Perhaps I
should have taken action sooner.  But as long as I saw that little
tail wagging I remained unwilling to do so.  I don~Rt know what her
life was like before she came to me.  I can make some assumptions
based on how I found her.  But, I simply don~Rt understand it. 
Having a companion for all those years and then abandoning her.  She
had every right to be bitter.  She was not.  She had every right not
to trust people.  But she put her trust in me.  She remained eager to
love until her final breath.  And I am honored to have shared her
final days.  And I will honor her memory always.