A Second Chance for Bandi

                                I still can’t believe I almost did it.  Her right paw was in my left hand, the syringe filled with pink solution in my right.  My assistant was holding off the vein, and the alcohol applied.  Up to that point, I had purposely avoided eye contact, but then felt she deserved a good look at the man who would kill her.  Damn!  Things began to get blurry.  I quickly capped the needle while I could, swallowed hard a couple of times, and squeaked out to Mr. Miller, “Can I have her?”

                                                                                   
                        That year had been a hard one for me, my wife, and our canine family.  The tragic loss of “Jake” in March was followed by the death of his father, “Jack,” to a brain tumor two months later.  The decision to save Bandi was made quickly, without regard to marital repercussions.  But none were coming.  My wife felt the emptiness in our life and home as much as I did.

                        When 1999 began, we were the proud owners of three Border Collies and that spoiled, little Corgi Bonnie always writes about.  The four of them had a somewhat annoying habit of racing through the house to the back door whenever they thought it was time to “potty outside,” and that behavior could be triggered by anything from turning off the TV to folding up a newspaper.  It’s funny the things you don’t think you’ll miss until they are gone.  Some would say they were “just dogs,” but to a childless couple, they were much more than that.  To lose half of them in such a short time was devastating.

                        Readers of this column may recall that euthanasias are not my favorite things to do, so you can imagine my dread when I saw Bandi’s appointment scheduled that early December morning.

                        I had known the Miller family for several years.  They were mostly large animal clients, and it had been some time since I had seen Bandi.  The old Border Collie was now overweight, with a terrific set of love handles, and stiff joints.  She also had a large, ulcerated growth on her side.

                        Mr. Miller said his family had talked and decided Bandi didn’t want to make it through another winter.  I remember chuckling to myself, “Did she really say that?” But knowing that this was a difficult decision for them to make, I did not share that thought.

                        Then I saw the spark in her eyes that told me she still had a lot of life left in her.  Fortunately, Mr. Miller seemed relieved by the request and responded with a resounding “Yes!”

                        I asked about her diet and if she was housebroken.  He said Bandi spent some time in their house, but actually preferred living outside, where she slept in the mulch.

                        When we got home that afternoon, the first thing Bandi did was head for the bushes and roll in the mulch.  I brushed her off as best I could, and took her inside to see her “new digs.”  We walked through the kitchen to the family room where she spotted Jack’s favorite, green lounge chair.  Without hesitation, she hopped on, curled up, and gave me a “this will do fine” look.  Just like that, Bandi “Miller” became Bandi “Jones,” and she never laid in the mulch again.

                        Blood- testing revealed that Bandi had heartworms and hypothyroidism. She handled the heartworm treatment well and sailed through her growth removal surgery. Her arthritis responded to anti-inflammatories and joint supplements, and she lost some weight on her new diet and thyroid medication. But the “love handles” remained forever.

                        Even though a Border Collie, sheep were of no interest to her, nor were ducks or Frisbees, for that matter.  She did enjoy going for walks, eager in spite of her stiff gait, and always carried her head and tail high.  Bandi never had a cross word for her new siblings, and was probably the happiest dog we’ve owned.  Giving her a second chance was one of the best things I have ever done.

                        As the autumn of her final year turned to winter, Bandi began to exhibit many of the same symptoms as Jack---dullness, some dementia, and she had her first seizure.  Whenever an older dog suddenly develops seizures, brain cancer is almost always the cause.  Bandi’s condition deteriorated rapidly.

                        On the night of December 9, 2004, after an especially bad seizure, her eyes finally said she didn’t want to make it through another winter.  Although we only had Bandi for five years, there were no regrets.  She filled a void in our hearts, and a chair in our home.  And she did both very well.

                        Thank you Miller family for letting us adopt Bandi.

Author:  Dr. John Jones
Image courtesy of Rosemary Ratcliff at FreeDigitalPhotos.net