“Why don’t you put down your Dog?” my friend asked. Mocha is old with lots of skin tags and black spots on her back — both harmless signs of aging. She’s bald on her back, because during the pandemic, I consulted the only vet who was open about her black spots. He told me to shave all her hair for six months so he could treat her skin.
Because of one shave, her back remains completely bald today. (I googled black spots and learned it was just a sign of old age, and I never returned to that vet again.)
Recently, Mocha’s regular vet said she has three tumors and, at her age, he couldn’t guarantee that she’d survive an operation.
THREE TUMORS
The vet gave Mocha a prescription and gave me soap and shampoo, with a three-days-a-week bath regimen when the shampoo should stay on for ten minutes.
She hates her ten-minute baths. To make things easier, I would wrap her in my duster that had my scent. I also put peanut butter on the low shower barrier. She loves peanut butter, but I always check the ingredients to make sure there’s no xylitol, which isn’t good for Dogs.
She still bravely tries to climb over the low shower barrier. To prevent painful falls, I leave my hands underneath her. Cradled in my hands, she’s aware and grateful.
Mocha still wags her tail, albeit more slowly. This may indicate an illness, but she only does it in happy times, like when she’s eating peanut butter during her bath, when she’s taking her medicine (it’s syrupy so the housekeeper just puts it on Mocha’s tongue), when she has treats, or when I laugh.
PAIN ISN’T ALL-POWERFUL
Another friend advised me to have Mocha put down if she’s in pain. But a lot of people grow old and have pains, and we don’t put them down; we treat the pain.
Mocha had some pain that made her lick her paws and roll on her back as if to scratch it. The vet gave me a prescription for that.
LIFE WITH MOCHA
Mocha’s lovable personality prevails even in her old age. Her treats are made by a vet for her tummy, joints, skin, paws, and immunity. Mocha loves her treats and, when I forget, she stands within my range of vision to remind me.
We share a laughter game wherein she deliberately gets in my field of vision and rolls over and over. The more I laugh the more vigorously she rolls.
We also have a gentle love code. I gently rub her foot with my foot when she’s on the floor. In return, she does the same. When I’m standing, she’ll put her foot on mine. When I’m sitting, she’ll walk past, rubbing against me on the way.
A GRAND OLD LADY
As a young Dog, Mocha was admired. As an old Dog, with her black dotted skin, lack of hair, and skin tags, she looks worse than a street Dog. But for me, she’s a grand old lady. Still cute, beautiful inside, and very happy when we’re together at home.
Because it’s hard for Mocha to walk outside, especially uphill, she created her own exercise regimen at home.
She would walk back and forth in my bedroom. At night, I sometimes take her out on her stroller — she loves feeling the wind against her. She loves the nightlife.
She will be put down only when she’s ready to go. She’ll tell me when, and that’s when I’ll do as she wishes.
UPDATE
I let Mocha free when I realized that she was living for me. I didn’t want Mocha to live for me; I wanted her to live for herself. Mocha has since crossed the Rainbow Bridge into Paradise, free from pain and suffering.
Cherish your Dog at every age, especially as they grow old gracefully.
