I came up with the title for this post easily, but when it came to sitting down to write it, it took me about two months to even come up with a first sentence. As I write it, there are tears in my eyes, because as you probably could have guessed, this story ends like all stories with dogs, and I still miss her every single day. Casey was the healthiest dog ever. Sure, she had some fatty tumors; she had to take medicine for a leaky vagina, and some eye medicine to prevent any issues, but none of those were life-threatening or even lifestyle-threatening, it was just maintenance. And for some maintenance, we gave her some medicine to help with joint discomfort since she was still so active. Again, it was just maintenance to give her the best life possible. After starting her on the new medicine, we got blood work, and her liver enzymes were incredibly high. They wanted to keep her overnight, but Casey gets incredible anxiety being away from home without us, so whenever we would go out of town, we would have friends or hire someone to come over to the house to take care of her to make sure she was as comfortable as possible. After the vet's office had to deal with what a spazz she was being away from home, they decided to have us pick her up in the evening and just bring her back in the morning. At least they gave her a floppy cone which she was able to turn into a fashion statement.
With the IV helping her get back to normal, we took her off the medicine thinking that would take care of things, but she really lost her appetite and stopped eating dog food, so she was more on a chicken and rice diet. The doctor thought that time would help take care of things, but although she was still active and loving life, her appetite just didn't get back to normal. Then one day, for the first time in her entire life, Casey was lethargic and making a guttural noise. I think it was the only time that I ever actually saw her suffering. She was standing and almost frozen from moving. I finally coaxed her outside so I could put her in the car to rush to the vet. We got there, and she didn't have the strength to get out of the car. I tried as gently as I could to move her out of the car, and then carried her inside where we found out that her liver enzymes were now astronomically off the charts, so they wheeled her on a cart, and I got her back in the car to rush over to the animal emergency hospital. I had to carry her again, and as miserable as I knew she was, she never fought me when I moved her, she just didn't have the strength to help. But Casey had always been healthy, so we got her to the hospital, and we were going to figure out what was wrong and take care of it. Even if it was expensive, who cares? It's Casey The Dog, and I would have done anything to make her better. The good news was they had the resources to not only take care of her 24 hours of the day so she wouldn't need to take a break from IVs. The bad news was that she wouldn't be staying at home which she was absolutely going to hate. This was not a dog that loved being caged in a strange place, and even while getting medicine for anxiety, you could tell she still wasn't sleeping. Sometimes when I came to visit, she was just happy to see me so she could rest peacefully, even if it couldn't have been all that comfortable.
We brought her in on Saturday, and over those days, I did my internet research. I was positive it was this one thing, but maybe it was this thing, with an outside shot of being that thing, but with every thing that could have been wrong, she just needed care, and we would get her better. But she wasn't getting better. When Stef visited, they gave her a private room that she said was really nice because it gave Casey a couch to rest on instead of trying to squeeze her way into a chair. It was nice for Casey, but I knew what that room was for. That was the dying dogs room, and Casey didn't belong in there. On Monday night, I visited, and they gave us that room. Casey was definitely a lot more comfortable in there.
I cried a lot when we were in this room. I had to let her rest, but I also had to hug her, squeeze her, and just know that she was my #1 pup dog. She nuzzled over to me and gave me a kiss, and I absolutely lost it. It was the sweetest kiss, and it was also the moment that I thought this could be the end. It was the first kiss that I had gotten since she started having issues, because along with no appetite for food, she didn't have one for the Joe and Casey Kiss Club either. On Monday, the doctor said it was likely cancer and brought up the possibility of euthanasia. She said it wasn't totally clear on the CT Scan, so there was a glimmer of hope in that her liver enzyme levels also dropped slightly. We tried treatment for another night, but on Tuesday, she called and said the new CT Scan made her 99% positive on her diagnosis. Even if we elected for surgery, the surgeons would put her to sleep if they found cancer. At that point, I just wanted to bring her home.
I just wanted one more day with her. We brought her home in the late afternoon, and she was clearly exhausted. She was sleep-deprived and still recovering from four days of medicine being nonstop pumped into her body. But if I only had one more day with Casey, I was sure as hell going to make it count. Thursday morning, we all headed to the beach. Casey still had no energy, so she got the VIP treatment. Despite my wife giving birth only six weeks earlier, she dropped us off at the beach so she could go park the car and lug the newborn with her. Usually Casey was going wild when we got to the beach, but we just strolled along, and I came to the realization that she might not have the energy to play anymore, and I might just have to settle for hanging out. I took her orange ball out of the bag, and it was like flipping a light-switch. Casey was BACK and ready for action.
She played like a puppy, splashing in the water, dive bombing for her ball, and then immediately coming back to me for another throw. People on the beach were admiring what a great dog she was as she frolicked in the water. She went hard, and we all had an absolute blast (well the six-week old baby may have not had the best time in his life). And we even got a goofy picture of her as the wind whipped through her ears.
It was awesome to just see her out there and be herself. I didn't know if I'd get that opportunity, so I definitely gave her a few more throws than normal before we finally headed home. We gave her some rest at the house during the day where we could just hang out and be normal. Casey preferred to have the most things going on, but she also didn't mind just snuggling up on the couch, and after that beach performance, some relaxation would do her some good. With her getting a physical activity in the morning, we decided to give her a social activity in the late afternoon, and that meant a trip to a brewery.
It was good that she could be out and impress strangers by jamming her toy at them so they would throw it for her. As long as Casey was the center of attention, all was well in the world. It also forced us to take our six-week old baby to his first brewery. To get to see Casey be Casey and just have that Weimy energy and endless happiness was amazing. I had gotten my one more day and it blew my expectations out of the water. As great as the day was, I still wanted the same thing: One more day.
The next day we took it a little easier, because even though the vet gave her steroids to make her feel better, I didn't want to push it too hard. We went to a park with a nice trail in the morning and did some light tossing of the ball.
But this brewery provided more than just tasty suds and a crowd for Casey to impress, it also provided one of her favorite human games in the world: Ping Pong.
She absolutely loved watching that ball go back and forth as it had her undivided attention. She just stood perfectly still as her head went back and forth to follow that ball, just waiting for her chance to pounce if the ball headed her direction. She did get the ball one time, and luckily she was gentle enough to not crunch into it. Even when the game was over, she was still ready for more.
On the third one more day, we kicked it old school, ditched the wife and baby, and went to our favorite park. I shot hoops, Casey chased her ball, and maybe smoked marijuana?
She may have enjoyed the park a little too much. She went hard. I threw and I threw and tried to prolong our time as much as I could before she gave me the sign that she was ready to hop in the car and head back home. That afternoon, we finally went away from breweries and decided to go for ice cream instead.
We also took a little walk to hang out by the bay, and Casey was just as happy as always.
For the next day, it was time for one of Casey's favorite pastimes, chasing squirrels, or more accurately in her case, getting really close to squirrels and staring.
Casey could just go to this park, be off leash, and just slowly stalk squirrels, thinking that she wanted to catch one, but not knowing what she would do if she was actually successful. We had a similar story as the other days as it was yet another brewery where Casey was way more into her toys than anything else.
Casey wasn't a complicated dog so by Sunday, I had pretty much run out of her favorite places to go. Like, I could take her to a new park, but she was just going to chase her ball all the same. The surroundings didn't matter a ton to her, but there was that one place where the surroundings mattered, so it was another trip for Casey and I to the beach.
She loved the refreshing feel of the gulf and would make sure that she did everything she could to prolong our adventure.
Although Casey definitely loved me, this formula may be the most accurate for this picture. I love Casey, Casey loves ball, ball loves...me?
It was a busy day at the beach, so she got a lot of love from the onlookers which meant that she had to show off more and take as many throws as possible. I gave her a "last throw" about a dozen times. Because of those extra last throws, this girl was exhausted on the ride home.
Even though we went out for another afternoon adventure, she was still feeling the effects of her morning excursion, so her and her brother decided to chill out at the brewery.
Then we were back to ballin' together, both with our orange ball of choice.
It also gave her a chance to bond with her baby brother.
We had now made it a full week which blew my expectations out of the water. And it wasn't just that she was around, but that she was around and totally happy. Part of the reason I wanted to do as much with her as we did was because her smile and energy were the only things that took my mind off what was going on with her health. And considering all that dog wanted was attention and play time, she truly was as happy as ever.
This was also the day that we decided we had to let her go. As great as Casey was doing during her outings, at home, she was clearly exhausted. No matter what we did, we couldn't get her to eat. At best, we could get her to take a couple bites of things before she grew tired of it. We tried everything including chicken and rice, wet dog food, every sort of dog treat imaginable, roast beef, turkey, pizza crust, bacon, and baby food. The night before, I even made her a porterhouse steak. She was excited for the first bite, totally into the second bite, and then wouldn't touch the thing. The last week we had was amazing, but me continually trying to come up with things for her to eat only for her to immediately turn it down was heartbreaking each and every time.
When we got home, she even got one last hump session in on me. Because of our weird relationship, I was nearly in tears from it, because it was one of those things that we both knew was wrong, but felt so right. Stef and I took her to her favorite park. A park we would drive to before we moved into our new house, but of course the house that we bought ended up being within walking distance of that park. If it was better for Casey, it was better for us. This last day, we just wanted to show her how much we loved her, even though we could never truly do that to its true extent.
As those final days passed, I couldn't shake the terrifying thought of my last throw to Casey. How do you make the decision to not throw the ball when you know that once you do, you are never going to get the chance to throw that ball again? That thought broke me more than any other. I didn't know how I was going to handle it, but just like always, Casey came through for me.
After many, many throws, there was a last throw, but Casey made the decision. I threw the ball, and she was tired, so she wasn't going to go out there alone. So, Stef, Casey, and I walked together out in the field to retrieve it. She picked it up, but we did it as a family. It was miserable and beautiful all at once.
As much as I took care of that dog, she also knew how to take care of me. When we took her in, I couldn't stop crying. She didn't know why I was sad, but she did know she had to make me feel better. So she turned around and gave me one last, sweet, gentle kiss. Just like always, Casey gave me exactly what I needed.
But with the hospital having 24-hour service, I was able to visit at all hours, and I took full advantage by taking trips in the middle of the night at times. I'd visit 3-4 times a day, and Stef would make it over there twice, because as we were trying to get Casey better, we also had a baby that was barely a month old to take care of.
But I knew she was going to get better. It was Casey; she had to get better. When I visited during normal hours, and there were actually people there, she would insist on bringing the toys I brought over to strangers so she could play. She never stopped being her. I brought her out to my car to rest, because I knew she would enjoy the familiar place.
She was so comfortable in that familiar setting, but oh man, that dog did not want to leave the car once she was put inside of it, but I knew she had to if she was going to get better.
She played like a puppy, splashing in the water, dive bombing for her ball, and then immediately coming back to me for another throw. People on the beach were admiring what a great dog she was as she frolicked in the water. She went hard, and we all had an absolute blast (well the six-week old baby may have not had the best time in his life). And we even got a goofy picture of her as the wind whipped through her ears.
It was awesome to just see her out there and be herself. I didn't know if I'd get that opportunity, so I definitely gave her a few more throws than normal before we finally headed home. We gave her some rest at the house during the day where we could just hang out and be normal. Casey preferred to have the most things going on, but she also didn't mind just snuggling up on the couch, and after that beach performance, some relaxation would do her some good. With her getting a physical activity in the morning, we decided to give her a social activity in the late afternoon, and that meant a trip to a brewery.
It was good that she could be out and impress strangers by jamming her toy at them so they would throw it for her. As long as Casey was the center of attention, all was well in the world. It also forced us to take our six-week old baby to his first brewery. To get to see Casey be Casey and just have that Weimy energy and endless happiness was amazing. I had gotten my one more day and it blew my expectations out of the water. As great as the day was, I still wanted the same thing: One more day.
That night, we took her to another brewery which also meant another brewery for the baby. If he develops into a cicerone (like a sommelier, but for beer), he will have Casey to thank.
But this brewery provided more than just tasty suds and a crowd for Casey to impress, it also provided one of her favorite human games in the world: Ping Pong.
She absolutely loved watching that ball go back and forth as it had her undivided attention. She just stood perfectly still as her head went back and forth to follow that ball, just waiting for her chance to pounce if the ball headed her direction. She did get the ball one time, and luckily she was gentle enough to not crunch into it. Even when the game was over, she was still ready for more.
On the third one more day, we kicked it old school, ditched the wife and baby, and went to our favorite park. I shot hoops, Casey chased her ball, and maybe smoked marijuana?
She may have enjoyed the park a little too much. She went hard. I threw and I threw and tried to prolong our time as much as I could before she gave me the sign that she was ready to hop in the car and head back home. That afternoon, we finally went away from breweries and decided to go for ice cream instead.
We also took a little walk to hang out by the bay, and Casey was just as happy as always.
For the next day, it was time for one of Casey's favorite pastimes, chasing squirrels, or more accurately in her case, getting really close to squirrels and staring.
Casey could just go to this park, be off leash, and just slowly stalk squirrels, thinking that she wanted to catch one, but not knowing what she would do if she was actually successful. We had a similar story as the other days as it was yet another brewery where Casey was way more into her toys than anything else.
Casey wasn't a complicated dog so by Sunday, I had pretty much run out of her favorite places to go. Like, I could take her to a new park, but she was just going to chase her ball all the same. The surroundings didn't matter a ton to her, but there was that one place where the surroundings mattered, so it was another trip for Casey and I to the beach.
She loved the refreshing feel of the gulf and would make sure that she did everything she could to prolong our adventure.
She would just toss her ball out in the water and stare at it as the waves took it in and out from shore until I would finally have to go grab it for another throw.
It was a busy day at the beach, so she got a lot of love from the onlookers which meant that she had to show off more and take as many throws as possible. I gave her a "last throw" about a dozen times. Because of those extra last throws, this girl was exhausted on the ride home.
Even though we went out for another afternoon adventure, she was still feeling the effects of her morning excursion, so her and her brother decided to chill out at the brewery.
The next morning we got a nice snuggle session in together. Casey, of course, got the premium spot.
Then we were back to ballin' together, both with our orange ball of choice.
Instead of doing our nightly outing, we decided to play it a little more low-key, and just hang out at home as we gave her some new toys. I feel like she didn't mind too much.
It also gave her a chance to bond with her baby brother.
We had now made it a full week which blew my expectations out of the water. And it wasn't just that she was around, but that she was around and totally happy. Part of the reason I wanted to do as much with her as we did was because her smile and energy were the only things that took my mind off what was going on with her health. And considering all that dog wanted was attention and play time, she truly was as happy as ever.
Even with the minimal food that she did eat, she felt sick to her stomach. She didn't puke, because I told her not to. She wanted to eat grass and force it to try to feel better, but I told her no, and she would stop, look at me, dutifully come back inside, and just deal with not feeling great.
I took a nap after the park, and Stef let me know that she had puked in the backyard. I frantically ran to the backyard to find the puke, but it wasn't going to tell me anything. I was mad at my wife for letting her puke, like that was really going to change anything, but it was just a matter of time. She had maybe eaten a cup of food over the last four days and she puked up some of what she ate. I remembered the day I initially had to take her to the hospital, and I couldn't let her suffer like that again so I knew that I couldn't push it any further. We set the appointment for the next day.
But I still had a lot of love to give that dog. We did our afternoon outing where she was the belle of the ball and got one more family photo op. 
When we got home, she even got one last hump session in on me. Because of our weird relationship, I was nearly in tears from it, because it was one of those things that we both knew was wrong, but felt so right. Stef and I took her to her favorite park. A park we would drive to before we moved into our new house, but of course the house that we bought ended up being within walking distance of that park. If it was better for Casey, it was better for us. This last day, we just wanted to show her how much we loved her, even though we could never truly do that to its true extent.
As those final days passed, I couldn't shake the terrifying thought of my last throw to Casey. How do you make the decision to not throw the ball when you know that once you do, you are never going to get the chance to throw that ball again? That thought broke me more than any other. I didn't know how I was going to handle it, but just like always, Casey came through for me.
As much as I took care of that dog, she also knew how to take care of me. When we took her in, I couldn't stop crying. She didn't know why I was sad, but she did know she had to make me feel better. So she turned around and gave me one last, sweet, gentle kiss. Just like always, Casey gave me exactly what I needed.
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