It has taken me almost a week to be able to write this post. There has been several false starts, but hopefully this will be the time I manage to get the story told. On the 10th July 2020, I had a message from my friend who was/is looking after my dog(s), and told what an animal owner who is living away from their babies never wants to hear. “Minnie is limping, and she’s not wanting to move. She didn’t even want to go out this morning.” I then spent the next hour or so frantically Googling, and finding a vet that would see her during this Covid-19 crisis at low cost. As all of you are aware, I am currently living in refuge after leaving my abusive, alcoholic husband, and whilst I was still living with him, the pet insurance got cancelled to support his alcohol consumption. I had no choice in the matter, he had the final say on all things financial. Until I am re-homed, I am unable to take out a new policy as you have to use a fixed address, not a temporary address. Thankfully I was able to locate a PDSA Veterinary Hospital that is actually only a few minutes away from where I am living, and due to the fact I am disabled and on benefits, I qualified for free treatment. Something I will be eternally grateful for. The lovely person who I initially spoke to on the phone, told me that a vet would call me back asap. It seemed to take hours before I got that call back, but in actuality was only about 30 minutes. She was absolutely amazing, and listened as I sobbed out my current circumstances, and the information my friend had given me about Minnie. After giving her what I could, I then with my friend’s permission, gave the vet her number, so the vet could get more information. An appointment was made for 5pm that day. At this point, we were thinking pulled muscle, or possibly a torn ligament. Well, at least I was.
During the 30 minutes waiting for the vet to call back, there was even more stress than the initial message had caused, both for me and my friend. To understand the situation better, whilst my friend only lives about 9 miles from me, it is on the other side of a river, and buses currently are very few and far between, and I didn’t want to cause Minnie any unnecessary pain, so I asked my friend if she had any friends close to her who drive, who could bring Minnie to the vets and I would meet them there. The friend that was called was unable to do it herself due to ill health, but she said she’d call her ex husband, who she was still friends with. They were told that we didn’t have an appointment time yet, that we were waiting to hear back from the vet, but we just wanted to know if they/he would be willing to drive her over. The husband, despite being told that we did NOT have an appointment time yet, decided to drive over to his ex wife’s immediately, and then decided that he wanted to bring Minnie over NOW. The entire reason that my friend is looking after them for me, is because it’s against the refuge rules to have any pets in the flat. Had he brought her here, I could potentially have lost this flat, and ended up on the streets whilst waiting to be re-homed, so that wasn’t an option. The other option he suggested was bringing her over immediately, and me sitting in the local park with her until the appointment time. Thank God i said no to that. Making her sit in a park for what would have turned out to be 7 hours was not an option either, it would have been cruel. So, i made the decision that I would get the bus over, and bring her to the vet and back in a taxi. Not a decision I made lightly, given the fact that if the taxi driver uses the meter its £20 each way, or £25 if they charge you a flat rate.
An hour or two after the call back from the vet, honestly I can’t say exactly how long it was, time seemed to freeze, I got another message from my friend, saying she’d found a lump. At this point, never mind dropping, my heart plummeted. I knew what the diagnosis was going to be, but convinced myself it would be treatable. When I got over to my friend’s house, whilst she wouldn’t get off the bed, and you could see she was in pain, her tail never stopped wagging, but she gave me her trademark smile. I felt the lump my friend had noticed that morning. I called the taxi company and asked for a taxi that would allow dogs. The taxi arrived, once she had her lead on, she got off the bed by herself, and we slowly made our way out to the taxi. We sat in the front at the driver’s request and off we went. She demanded fuss the entire time. We got to the vet’s early, not knowing what the process was going to be. When we arrived, we had to buzz on the intercom, and they told us to wait outside until we were called, and then go into the entryway. We waited the 20 minutes until our appointment time, I sat on the ground and had her in my lap, wrapped in my coat as it was raining. During those 20 minutes, I discovered another lump in one of her rear mammary glands. When we were buzzed to come in, I was told we would be let in, to take her lead off and put one of the slip leads on her, and then go back outside while they took her in. I was told that after she was inside, I could go back into the entryway to wait, as it was raining much harder, and I didn’t have a car to wait in. She was inside maybe 10, and then the vet brought her back to me. She stayed at the other end of the entryway, commented on how gorgeous Minnie was, and how well trained and behaved she was, and even asked who had trained her. She was surprised when I told her than I had, and that until I got Minnie, she had spent the first (almost) 5 years of her live locked in kennels 24/7, churning out litters of puppies. The vet then gave me “the” look, and gave me the worst news possible. Minnie was riddled with cancerous growths. She had several on her chest over her ribs, and one in every single mammary gland. It was far too extensive to be able to remove surgically, and I was told she had a few weeks to 6 months to live. I fell apart. Due to my abusive past, I was trained not to cry, but at that news, I broke down and sobbed. I think I got Minnie more wet than the rain had. I was given Paracetamol, Prednisone and an antibiotic for her, and was told I would be called in a week or so, to see how she was doing. Over the next few days, she had a few good days, and a few bad days. The good days she was her normal bouncy self, and on the bad days, she didn’t want to move at all. On the following Wednesday, she had a particularly bad evening, so I had a video appointment with the vet, and she was prescribed Gabapentin. Thursday was a good day for her, she was happy and bouncy, but on Friday morning, I got a message early from my friend saying Minnie was having a bad day. My friend had her first hairdressers appointment that morning since before lockdown, and when she got back, Minnie had taken even more of a downturn. I raced over in a taxi, took one look at her, and she told me. It was time. I absolutely broke down and SOBBED into her fur. I laid on the floor with her for a couple of minutes, and promised her I’d make that heartbreaking, final decision. She had become incredibly pinched at her waistline, she was trying hard to breathe, and she looked exhausted. I called the vet, told them that I thought it was time, and that I was going to call a taxi to bring her in. I called the taxi company in tears, explained to the person booking the appointments, and she promised to get a taxi to me asap, as she was struggling to breathe. The taxi got to us quickly, I carried her down the stairs, and she walked from there to the grass, had a pee, and then walked to the taxi. My friend put her blanket in the front passenger foot well, and I lifted Minnie in. I cried the entire way, and so did the taxi driver, as it was one I had had before. We went straight into the vets, I was allowed in this time, but masked even though I’m exempt (she was worth the potential asthma attack), and I laid her blanket down and sat on it whilst they took her to have the catheter put in. The vet brought her back to me, and Minnie sat on the blanket with me. The vet asked if I was ready, and when I said yes, she administered the drugs from the other side of the room, via a long line. Minnie sagged into my arms very quickly, and I took her down to the floor in my arms. Her final moments were spent in my arms, with me kissing her and me telling her that she was “the bestest pupper”, and that I she was loved, and would be loved forever. Her final breath was at 12.18pm. The vet quietly left the room, leaving me with Minnie, and allowing me to have that initial time to grieve and say goodbye. When I was ready, the vet came back into the room, and gave me the details as I said I wanted her individually cremated, as I wanted to bring her home. I asked if her blanket could stay with her, and she said “Yes, of course it can”. I made the way home, bringing her collar and lead with me. That was not the way I wanted to bring her home. I called and made the arrangements with the pet crematorium, who were very sensitive. I can’t fault them for how they handled the call. I then allowed myself the time to cry myself out, before getting a taxi back to my friend’s house. I needed to be with my other dog.
When I was on the train up here, with just the 2 of them and a suitcase, I promised them that we’d only be apart for a little while, before we were back together in a safe home of our own. Sadly, that is not meant to be for Minnie. Her time came much sooner than I ever expected it too, as she was just a month shy of 9. I should get her ashes back in about a week, and she will have her own special space in whatever home I end up in. As I say to everyone I meet, I didn’t rescue my girls, they rescued me. In the days since losing her, my heart is shattered, and I’m not sure it will ever be whole again. She was such a large part of my life, for the 4 years I was blessed to have her. My friend has also said in these past few days, that watching me break is one of the hardest things she has ever witnessed. Minnie wasn’t just a dog, she was my family.
Rest In Peace darling girl. Run, play and chase the bunnies pain free and happy with the other pups that have gone before you, until the day I cross the Rainbow Bridge and we are reunited once again, for all eternity. I love you Minnie Moo.
In Memory of Minnie, 23/08/2011 – 17/07/2020
The Broken Butterfly 