Jesse was born on March 18, 1992. He became my furchild on August 3, 1992 at 4.5 months old. I had wanted a collie since I was 7 years old and I finally got one at age 22. He was found by my twin sister, Tracey in a garage with no windows lying in his own waste. Even at such a young age, Jesse had lived a lifetime of unhappiness. He was initially purchased by other people who abused him because he wouldn’t stop vomiting (he was car sick) and he was brought back to the unreputable breeder. He was never able to fully trust the hand and had problems initially getting used to a leash. It took me nearly a year to housebreak him.
I remember that first night with Jesse, he was so scared. I was scared too and I remember picking him up and holding him out on the deck with his soft face pressed against mine. I was afraid I wouldn’t be a good mother to him and he needed a good mother! I remember how he cried in the middle of the night because he was scared and I put a nighlight on for him and told him not to be afraid.
Jesse was a happy collie. He lived with a cocker spaniel, Trevor, (whom he believed was his own personal sheep) and five cats. He made friends wherever he went and he understood me completely. We had a very eerie connection, Jesse and I. He would protect me with his life and I would do the same. Jesse never showed aggressiveness towards anyone, but he knew if I was in trouble or upset. He would put a paw on me and whine a little bit. It was strange how he could sense what other people were feeling.
Jesse loved playing frisbee, “wrestle” collie, herding his sheep, Trevor, tug a war and just being by my side. I don’t remember a time in my life when I was ever angry with him. He loved to lick my mouth and have his armpits rubbed. He would jump up on you to have his armpits rubbed and his tongue would hang out like he was smiling and his eyes would squint up. (My husband nicknamed him “Squints” because of this.) He loved ice cream, cheese, pizza, french fries, cookies (dog biscuits) walks and bye byes. He got over being car sick and enjoyed car rides.
When I got married in December of 1997, Jesse had a difficult time adjusting to a new place. My husband and I moved three times the first year we were married. During the first two years of my marriage, Jesse stayed at home with my parents and his ever-devoted sheep (cocker spaniel), Trevor. I was finally able to get him settled in my home in March of 2000. At that time, he shared his home with a spunky 8 week old Great Dane pup named Mick. Like everyone else in his life, Jesse mothered Mick as a baby and was not intimated by him. Mick kept Jesse on his toes and I can remember times where the two would race around the dining room table. Jesse would bite his feet and hide under the table. Mick, because of his size could not get underneath it. Jesse would race away and actually look like he was laughing at him!
In August of 98, I found a lump outside the skin on Jesse's neck. The vet at the time told me it was just a skin tag, a sign of age and that I shouldn't worry about it. I didn't. By December, it had become more noticeable when grooming and others started to notice it when petting him. In January of 99, they did an aspiration that came back inconclusive. They wanted to do a biospy. I told them to take the whole thing off. It came off with clean margins, but the prognosis was fair to guarded. It was technically known as a mammary adenocarcinoma although he was a male. It was known as adenocarcinoma with angiolymphatic invasion, meaning that when the tumor of the neck was removed, even though it was with clean margins, they felt that some of the cancer escaped into the lymph nodes. If it reoccurred it would reoccur within 6 months to a year in the lungs and the recommendation was to have him x-rayed every 3-4 months to see if anything was there. I could also go the chemo route at that time, but I opt ed not to because they could not tell me for certain if the cancer was there. I had him x-rayed every 3-4 months and in February of 2000, they believed they saw something on one of the films, but it was too small to be sure. In May of 2000, he was officially diagnosed with a metastasis and by that time, the first lump had grown to be noticeable and a second one was indicated. I decided at that time to go the holistic route.
Jesse had excellent quality of life and his appetite was never better, (and that is saying something since he was always a picky eater!) up until 48 hours before he died. In August and December of 2000, Jesse went for his usual x-rays and checkup. The three tumors that were now in his lungs were growing slowly and all the vets were amazed by his “progress.” He had exceeded everyone’s expectations. I dared to hope that we could possibly beat this thing. He was doing extremely well and was happy.
February of 2001: Two weeks before he died, he was having peaks and valleys with his eating, wouldn't eat for 2 days then eat for one day, etc. He was also drinking what I thought was a lot of water. He was still able to do "normal collie things." He would vomit during this time about every 4 days, just a clear, yellow, phlegmy bile. He would also pace the floor of my bedroom in the middle of the night during this time, he was very restless.
The Thursday before he died, I took him to the vet for his loss of appetite and vomiting. His temperature was a little high, so the vet took some blood and wanted to treat it as an infection. He said just because he has cancer doesn't mean it was the cancer making him sick. At the vet's he was alert, nervous, barking, etc., which was normal for him. He said the blood work would give him more of an indication of what was going on.
On Friday, I came home from work to a listless Jesse lying in front of door in odd position. There was vomit and diarrhea all over my house. The water bowl was bone dry. I rushed him to the vet and they gave him IV fluids. His blood test showed his calcium level was high, and his platelets were low, but everything else was normal. That Saturday, they x-rayed his stomach which showed an enlarged spleen. The x-rays of his chest showed no significant growth of the three tumors. At 1:30 on Saturday, he was able to get up and walk around slowly. By 8:00p.m. that night, he was having trouble breathing and could not get up at all. The vet was sure he would pass away in the middle of the night. He felt that the cancer had gone to the spleen even though he had not biopsied it yet. I wanted to be with him when he died, so I put him to sleep that night. I truly believe he was suffering.
I don't think I will ever fully recover from Jesse's death, we had an errie connection. I love that dog like I gave birth to him myself. He was three weeks from his ninth birthday when he died and that is very hard for me to take. He was very young for a collie. At times, I cannot bear my grief and it is so sad to me that very few people understand this.
Jesse: I miss everything about you, our lazy Saturday mornings together when we would lay in bed, your smell, the way your fur felt against my cheek, your kisses, your sparkling brown eyes, your kindness and your happiness. I will never forget you, when you died, a piece of me died with you and I will always, always love you. You have been raised up on Eagle’s Wings and now fly free…
Good Night, My Sweet Prince, until we are together again…
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