The death of my last Dane haunts me.
It keeps looping in my head. I know she was in pain and it hurts me that she died in pain.
I know logically that there is truly nothing more I could have done. I keep thinking, "what if I had a bloat kit" or "what if I had just punctured the stomach from her side with a needle" as though my lack of veterinary skill is responsible for her death. In the 10 minutes or so from when we realized something was wrong to when she died, I doubt there was much that an experienced veterinarian could have done for her and I suspect any strategy I would have used would have just caused her more pain and made things even worse.
But still, I feel guilty that I could not save my girl dog. Even though I know she was already doomed from the moment she made that awful retching noise.
Most of the emergencies I have experienced in my life did not have this kind of awful, brutal ending. In fact, most of the emergencies did not really amount to emergencies in the end. No amount of speeding or driving faster would have saved her, but still I wonder if there was some error, some nuance, I missed. I want to find the facts that prove I failed her because I feel I failed her. Should I have driven on sidewalks? Gone further up the freeway and made an exit where I needed it. Honked at people in front of me? Known to throw her in the car before she signaled her distress? I know she died a full five minutes before I got her there. I know even if I had magically gotten her there the second I know there was a problem, precious time would have elapsed getting her from car to door, waiting to be buzzed in, convincing the front desk person to act rather than ask, etc. I know it would have taken a dozen miracles to save her. But it was still my job to save her and I failed.
As I drove to the clinic with her, I had my hand on her and was talking to her in the back seat. I felt her sag and when her bowels evacuated I knew she was gone. But still I hoped, until I pulled her, dead and limp, from the car and laid her out next to the car on the parking lot. I was hoping, I guess, that she might be revived...that there was some last act of heroic veterinary treatment that could be performed...but I knew.
I keep seeing her lying there. I keep seeing the vet tech carrying her off. I keep thinking she cannot possibly be gone.
I failed her somehow. I just have this big empty hole and no dog.
