Goodbye to a furry family member

After 17 years of great memories, it is time to let go of a beloved dog.

“BE a good girl.” That was the last thing I said to my dog before I left for a holiday. I gave her fur a good stroke and told my helper to take good care of her while I was away.

I was worried about my 17-yearold dog. Age was catching up with Pika ( pic) and I knew that she was approaching the end of her life with us.

Some of you might remember me writing about Pika’s little misadventure back in 2014, when she sneaked out of our house and went missing for four days.

Since then, age had slowly started creeping up on my beloved family dog. Both her eyes took on a cloudy appearance and she started to lose her sight. Her hearing was going, her legs were stiff and she was sleeping a lot more.

I couldn’t help but feel sad whenever I saw Pika walking into walls or losing her balance when standing up.

It broke my heart because she was not the dog I knew before.

She used to love running around our house, jumping and playing with us.

But suddenly, she just stopped doing those things. She didn’t react to us the same way anymore.

Despite her ailing health, Pika was happy enough. I could see her joy as she devoured her food, and she would still go on mini adventures around our house.

She seemed content enough and according to the vet, Pika wasn’t in pain. It was just the normal effects of age.

However, she did have a bad health scare in 2016. She lost her appetite and became so weak that she couldn’t even stand.

We knew something was wrong and rushed her to the vet.

She underwent blood tests and was found to be anaemic. Anaemia is a condition where there aren’t enough healthy red blood cells to carry oxygen. It was a serious condition and the veterinarian was not sure what had caused the anaemia.

The veterinarian kept Pika on an antibiotic drip for a few days, hoping that she would get better.

I remember visiting Pika when she was at the vet. I went up to her cage but when I petted her, she was shaking in fear.

The doctor said that her reaction was due to the unfamiliar environment and the fact that she could not see.

Nevertheless, it was heartbreaking to have my own dog not recognise me.

I visited Pika at the vet every day and after a few days, the doctor said Pika had recovered significantly and could be discharged.

I was overjoyed, and I’m sure Pika was happy to be back home in familiar territory.

The years passed without much incident. Pika was still in good health for her age and she would still go for her annual check-up at the vet.

But in the back of my mind, I always knew that I should prepare for the eventuality of her passing.

Sometimes I would catch myself watching for her breathing while she slept. I would also check up on her when I left the house and again when I got home.

Looking back, I guess I was always a bit afraid of having to say goodbye.

I was afraid to leave her for three weeks as I headed to New Zealand for a family holiday.

The weeks went by without any problem until I got a text message from my helper at the tail end of my trip.

“I think something is wrong with Pika,” the text read.

My helper explained that Pika was hardly eating and very weak, similar to the last time she had been sick.

Pika ended up at the vet again, where the doctor informed me that she was severely dehydrated.

The blood test results came back the next day and confirmed that Pika had kidney and liver problems.

I told the vet to continue treating Pika, as I would be back in Malaysia the next day.

Hours after my flight landed, I was at the clinic with my dog.

I will never forget the state Pika was in. She was completely limp and unresponsive, her tongue sticking out and her breathing laboured. We were also told that she was in pain.

My family agreed that the best course of action was to put her to sleep.

As much as we were devastated to say goodbye one last time to our dog, it was the only humane thing to do.

But because Pika’s doctor was not in then, we were asked to delay the procedure until later that afternoon, when the doctor started her shift.

During that time, Pika had a seizure, indicating brain problems. Her worsening state reinforced our decision to put her to sleep.

So, at about 5.30pm on Nov 19, 2017, I watched Pika breathe her last.

The procedure was quick and the doctor assured us that Pika would not have felt any pain.

My family and I were with her as it happened, and I hope she could sense that we were all there with her during her last moments.

As she slowly faded away, I stroked her fur.

“You’re a good girl, Pika,” I said to her one last time.