Carole's Stuff and Occasional Nonsense

This photo is of Maisie, one of our two West Highland White Terriers, taken in 2015, about a month before her 9th birthday. We bought her and her sister Daisy in December 2006 as Christmas presents to ourselves.

Sadly, two weeks ago on Sunday, October 25th we had to say goodbye to her. She had been ill over the summer, with what seemed to be a random selection of things, until she was diagnosed with diabetes at the end of August. The vet thought that she may have had the disease for a while, but something had triggered it getting worse. She was very ill and it took a week to stabilise her. She had lost a lot of weight, she was down to 9 kg, and was very weak, but with insulin injections every 12 hours it seemed like she might be OK. She was having blood glucose and other checks every two weeks but she wasn’t putting on weight. Since October 2019, her weight had dropped from a healthy 10.6 kg to that 9 kg in August and she wasn’t regaining it. She was very bony and was pretty weak. I was pretty worried, to tell the truth. However, the vet seemed pretty positive after her tests on October 13th. However, we were still adjusting her level of insulin and the vet was advising a lower dose.

Her eyesight had been getting quite bad for about a year, but we had put that down to age, but in the two weeks since her check-up on the 13th it got much worse, her eyes went very milky and her sight seemed to be failing. She was also struggling to get up and down the stairs, so I was carrying her. Clearly, this was a worry, but the vet had warned me that it would take time for her to start putting weight back on and rebuilding her strength.

To be honest, I knew deep inside that something wasn’t right. She wasn’t her usual happy, inquisitive and stubborn self. She was tired all the time, her appetite wasn’t great and, as I mentioned above, we were constantly having to adjust her insulin dosage to balance her body chemistry. We didn’t seem able to find the right dose. Her eyesight was getting worse, and she seemed to have lost her sight in one eye. I knew that she had her next check-up scheduled for the 27th, so I was planning to discuss these issues with the vet then. She was withdrawing into herself. This was not a good sign at all, but it still seemed possible that she would pull through because she still had her old sparkle in patches. Sometimes she rallied and became playful, but it did seem like she was making an effort which was too much for her.

On Friday 23rd October, she refused her breakfast, but I got her to eat some chicken breast. I kept her on chicken on the Saturday, which seemed to work but overnight she had a couple of bouts of vomiting and diarrhoea. She refused her breakfast on Sunday morning and kept on going out into the garden and hiding under bushes. She seemed very confused, sad and lonely, and her belly was swollen. To be honest here, I knew that she was really ill and feared the worst. When she started puking up yellow bile I got in touch with the out of hours vet service and took her in for an examination.

They did a physical check and told me to go home. They were going to keep her in and do blood and other tests and take an ultrasound.

After they had the test results, they rang my mobile. The news was not good.

She was incredibly ill. Her blood was full of toxins, she had fluid in her lungs and abdomen, her breathing was very laboured, her heart was struggling and, probably worst of all, she had suffered kidney failure.

Basically, her poor little body was breaking down and there was nothing that could be done for her. They suspected that she probably had an undetected cancer, too. The only decent thing that could be done was to let her go.

We went back to the emergency vet clinic and we were with her when she went into her final sleep. She was with the two people who loved her and who she loved and trusted back. It was a peaceful end. She didn’t suffer.

It was the evening before her 14th birthday.

Maisie was a wonderful little dog. She had that characteristic known as “Westitude”, a stubbornness and independence that all Westie owners know about. She was also incredibly inquisitive and adventurous. If there was a hole in a fence or a gap, she would find it and be off. I’ve lost track of the times I had to rescue her when she got stuck somewhere and couldn’t find the way out again. I once had to crawl down a scree slope to rescue her from a ledge where she had got stuck. I hoicked her up by her collar and she happily scampered back up, leaving me to crawl slowly back up again.

She was also incredibly loyal and loving. When I worked from home, she would always be with me in my little office and when I took voluntary redundancy because of work-related stress, she was always there for me. We used to play on the landing or on the floor, doing play bows to one another and pretend bites. It kept me alive when I was in a poor mental state. If I was up late watching TV, I’d often nod off. She would always nudge me and tell me it was time for bed.

Sadly, the real Maisie began to fade away with her succession of bouts of illness this year. Deep down, I think I knew that she wasn’t going to see the end of 2020, but I kept on hoping that she would pull through. Sadly, that didn’t happen.

We are both devastated and her sister Daisy is missing her sister and best friend too. They were litter sisters, so Daisy is also 14.

Here are some more pictures of my beautiful sweet Maisie. I shall never forget her and I will love her for the rest of my life.