A couple of hours turned into a few days and he had yet to poop. He had stopped eating on his own while there. On Wednesday, things took a turn for the worse. He was extremely lethargic, couldn't bear weight, and still wasn't eating. They told us that all of this could be caused by the stress of being at the vet and to try to take him home. We happily obliged, especially because we weren't overly thrilled with that clinic's bedside manner. Everyone seemed very cold and lacked compassion. We even wondered if they actually liked animals. But when Mike was picking him up, he had a seizure. He said it was the worst and scariest thing he has ever seen and thought that that was it. Luckily, they were able to stabilize him but advised to leave Boomer there overnight for observation in case he had any more seizures. It was devastating to be apart from him for longer. We knew how traumatizing it must have been for him to be away from home. Mike and I were distraught.
We knew his worsened condition was from all that extra stress. It was important for us to make sure that he was comfortable and stress-free, and we figured that home was the best place for him. Wednesday night we couldn't sleep and around 1am we decided to go there. The doctor reviewed his levels and cleared us to take him home since nothing further could be done there. As they were bundling him up to give him to us, he had another seizure. It was so so terrifying. The vet agreed that it was from the stress and let us take him anyway.
We were given valium in case of any more seizures, supplements for his kidneys, and subcutaneous fluids that we had to inject him with. We tried to make him as comfortable and calm as possible at home but inside we were both freaking out. He wasn't eating or drinking, couldn't move on his own, and generally limp and out of it. We was laying on puppy training pads. It was very sad to see but we were determined to keep trying to help him with the injections. We tried to make sure he could see one of us at all times and we were constantly petting him so he knew he wasn't alone. We spent the night taking turns being next to him and changing his "bedding."
After a couple of days at home, it became clear to both of us that there were no visible signs of improvement and, if anything, his condition deteriorated drastically. By Friday morning, he was even more limp, wasn't reacting to his favourite tuna, and had stopped making eye contact. It was heartbreaking to watch. We both knew it was time.
We took him to a different vet that was further away (but we knew was much kinder and more compassionate) in a last ditch effort to see if anything else can be done. The doctor told us that his temperature was critically low, his heart rate was very slow, and that he had no corneal reaction. She said it was unlikely that anything would help at point.
So at around 2pm on Friday afternoon, we thanked him for all his love and good times, and said goodbye.
Our house seems so empty because he was always around us. He followed us around, slept with us, and always greeted us when we came home. He was such a cuddler that loved being around people. And I know that Lenny really misses his best friend. Mike and I do too. We have been in tears pretty much nonstop since Monday but no matter how devastating this is, we wouldn't trade all the joy he brought us for anything. Instead of thinking that we are without him, we choose to think that he is with us all the time, everywhere we go.
We love you, Boomer. Forever and always.