Remembering Apollo

Dogs are such an amazing part of our lives! The only downside to dog ownership, and this is true with most pets, is that unlike with children we witness every part of our dog's lives and in a relatively short amount of time. Many of us are there from around 8 weeks of age, fawning and sometimes a little infuriated over the little ball of fuzz brought into our lives. But we're also there for the end. Sometimes it's abrupt and unexpected, other times it's bittersweet. It's always hard.

  

Apollo came into our lives unexpectedly. A friend mentioned picking up a husky from a local road after witnessing someone stop their truck and dump him. The friend couldn't keep him, so I agreed to meet the husky and potentially take him home. An hour later I was loading a massive, excited adolescent dog into my tiny car and wondering what I was going to tell my fiance when he got home from work. The dog was emaciated, full of fleas and needed a lot of care, but he was beautiful. A neighbor asked what his name was, and without hesitation I blurted out, "We're going to call him Apollo!".

We quickly got Apollo vet care and started working on building up his weight. Apollo became like my shadow, always underfoot or lying a few feet away from me. In the car, he was content to lie in the back seat as long as his face was touching my arm. He loved exploring on walks, played with enthusiasm at the dog park and showed us so much love despite an obviously rough beginning. 

But things didn't stay perfect for long. We had trouble getting Apollo on a food his system agreed with, and soon minor tummy troubles turned into chronic diarrhea. This began an endless cycle of trying different antibiotics and treatment plans, countless grain free commercial foods, raw and homemade recipes...everything we could think of. Apollo was given a diagnosis of EPI and for awhile the digestive enzymes and other treatments seemed to stabilize him, but whenever we thought we got a handle on things everything would start going south again.

Apollo was especially fond of puppies, and when we brought Katara home as an 8 week old he immediately adopted the role of big brother. He taught her the house rules, how to play rough, and how to act around big dogs, tiny dogs, puppies and children. Despite bouts of illness, Apollo never acted like he was sick. He always had a positive attitude and a huge appetite. We hoped the digestive issues were just a recurring thing that wouldn't effect him too much, and our vet seemed to agree. He was thin but his weight was holding steady and we sometimes went a month or more without any problems.

Katara grew up, and we came to accept that Apollo would never be "normal", but had no idea how bad things would become. It felt like as long as Apollo kept using his enzymes and avoided any treats he was relatively stable. In late 2015, we were enjoying a calm evening when Apollo projectile-vomited and covered the entire sofa in clear goop. While we were cleaning it up, he started having diarrhea which looked about the same and contained blood. We had another vet trip and some anti-nausea medicine, but had learned nothing new. Just the same confusion and worries about how long he could go on with his problems.

His weight began to dive, and in January 2016 I started to get the gnawing feeling that our now 5-year-old husky was coming to the end of his life. My fiance was in denial. "He's gone on with these problems so far, he's been in worse shape, there's no reason he won't rebound again." Only the diarrhea never resolved and I could tell things were more serious this time. In late January, on a week I will never forget, Apollo began drinking insatiably. He was urinating more frequently and it had an awful smell. Then, for the first time in his life, Apollo refused to eat. That night while I waited for my fiance to get home from work, Apollo put his head on my lap and started crying. Our dog, who had somehow kept strong all these years, was finally falling apart. I cried with him.

Resting on that last day.

I made the appointment the next day. We had just changed vets and our new vet was wonderful. They had some ideas about how we might be able to buy more time, but Apollo was dying. His kidneys were shutting down and his body was in bad shape. His circulation was so poor the vet mistook him for a senior dog before hearing his story. On his last day, Apollo seemed exhausted but still found the energy to enjoy a final walk and play in the park with Katara. He had been deprived of treats for years, but after his walk we brought him to a drive through and ordered him a cheeseburger. We cuddled him a lot and tried to give him the best day possible. It doesn't make up for the ten years of life he should have had before him.

Our vets were extremely compassionate and caring. Katara came along for the appointment - we wanted our whole little family there. I held him in my arms and stayed with him a long time after. There were a lot of tears, but also a sense of relief that Apollo was no longer in pain. I've experienced the loss of a loved one before, but Apollo was the first dog we have lost. The experience makes me feel a lot closer to Katara, because unlike a child who becomes our legacy, our dogs live out their lives in a span of about ten to twenty years. I've realized our dogs are only briefly in our lives. 

Writing this and remembering Apollo still hurts and I doubt it will ever stop hurting. We have received a lot of support from friends and family and it is so appreciated, and we have done a lot to memorialize Apollo and gain closure. Unfortunately I know we will one day lose Katara, Luka and any other animals in our lives. It doesn't make me less likely to continue owning pets - or less attached to the dogs - but I now realize I need to appreciate every moment we spend with them. I hope you remember to appreciate your pets, even when they are troublesome or costly, because they won't be around forever.