Zaffer on my mind

[PlaxMacaws]

This day marks the one-year point since Zaffer underwent his biopsy procedures (i.e., core sample removal from his oral tumor and invasive surgery of his right leg as an effort to try and learn why he had been experiencing crippling inflammation thereof).

On this very day, exactly one year ago, Zaffer would begin his rapid and torturous decline to his final moments. Prior to the aforementioned procedures on December 29, 2022, Zaf had continued to demonstrate playfulness and other expressions of enjoyment during his daily activities. He truly had a great attitude considering all he was going through. In the late evening of December 28 and into the early morning hours of December 29, he experienced another oral bleeding incident. By sunup, thankfully, his bleeding had resolved and he was happy, energetic, and interactive. Crushingly, however, after his traumatic clinic experience hours later, his personality vanished (never to return). My best friend would never be the same

The biopsy appointment was extremely stressful for Zaf and ultimately caused him a great deal of lingering pain. It was also his first experience with a drug known as ketamine (used to sedate him prior to full anesthesia). I remember after initially administering the ketamine he emitted some explosive, horrific-sounding cries I'd never before heard him make. I later learned that ketamine, along with being considered an agent of anesthesia, is a hallucinogen. It's related and chemically similar to PCP (phencyclidine, aka "Angel Dust"). The vet opted for ketamine to ramp him down because the usual sedative he had been receiving, midazolam, no longer worked on him.

Once home from the December 29 procedures, Zaffer remained in an agonized stupor until he took his final breath on February 20, 2023. It was such a heart-wrenching end to my treasured companion's life. If I had only known, I would have never subjected him to the biopsy appointment. I am chronically haunted by the experience. I miss him immensely!

[Dragonlady2]

I am sorry that you are still having such intense feelings regarding Zaffer’s death.

I can totally relate to the feeling of hanging on too long and hoping for better outcomes. Our last dog was diagnosed with a fast going cancer and we decided to not attempt any treatment but to provide pain medication until the end. However, she couldn’t keep the medication down and subsequently suffered. We waited too long to have her put to sleep and on the last day before going to the vet, I could see the pain in her eyes and hear the faint whine in her breathing. Could have saved her that if we had made the decision sooner. I look at her pictures of happier days to ease some of the guilt. However, this experience has hardened my resolve that I will never put another animal through that again. So, I thank Missy for that. It’s her legacy.

I hope for better days ahead for you. Try to release some of the burden of guilt…Zaffer would never want you to carry it.

[PlaxMacaws]

I'm sorry to hear about Missy and the pain and devastation you both experienced before her life ended. Such situations are heart-crushing and terribly difficult. With Zaffer it was similar, yet somewhat different. Obviously, he had some serious physical problems. But he was still happy and playful before the biopsy appointment. To me, that suggests he may well have remained so for a time had I not brought him in that day to be brutalized by trauma and stress. Of course, I and the vet were trying to help him by assessing the extent of his condition. But the effort turned out to push him beyond the point were he could continue to enjoy life with me, never to recover. He fell into an abyss of agony. I kept hoping his surgical wounds merely needed to heal and that he would recover from the trauma and pain involved. At the time, I didn't realize he may have been altered mentally from the ketamine. Had I not forced him to go in for the procedures that day, in all probability we would have been able to have more quality time together before his passing.

When you have an ill companion and he/she is happy to be alive and with you, you can never know for certain if your efforts to cure or help that companion may eliminate that happiness forever, or even kill your companion in an agonizing way. It's a gamble and *best judgment* call. I believe I picked the wrong option on that day one year ago. I was desperately trying to save Zaffer... I wanted to help him so much! But instead, my decision hurled him into a downward spiral

Thank you for your thoughts, Helena.

[PlaxMacaws]

I've mentioned this before. I will forever regret my decision to bring Zaffer to his vet for his final diagnostic procedures on December 29, 2022. It took so much out of his already ailing body and was the turning point to his rapid decline. His health and suffering intensified so very much from that day forward.

I've decided to post a portion of my notes about him that expresses some of my feelings during that period. I will preface that text portion by stating that once Zaffer came into my life, I gave him a number of nicknames. One of the first was "Zif-Zaf," which eventually spun into simply "Zif," then later into the affectionate variant "Ziffy." I actually ended up calling him Ziffy quite a lot during the bulk of our time together.

My feelings after Zaffer's turn for the worse following his biopsy procedures two years ago

On January 12, 2023, about 5 weeks before his final day, I admitted to myself Zaffer was dying and that I didn't know how to save him. On that day, I wrote the following in my personal notes:

While Ziffy has not yet physically left me, I'm finding that I already miss him beyond words... I am devasted! The pain I feel is unbearable. I pet him and talk to him but his responses are so minimal. Still, I'm convinced my happy dancing boy exists and is buried somewhere deep inside his ailing body. I just can't seem to reach him anymore. He's been my special companion for such a long time... I remember every detail of his personality so vividly and I adore him so very much. Where is he?

I used to look forward to his happy sounds (the adorable vocalizations he used to utter in response to our playful interactions and his frolicsome activities - he SO loved to have fun!). But I am now convinced I will never again hear those happy sounds, because all indications are he will never again be happy.

Sadly, Im also acutely aware of the following:

He will never again play on top of his cage - he can never again even be inside of his cage...

He will never again dance to his favorite songs...

He will never again become excited when I return home from being away...

He will never again cuddle with me...

He will never again sleep on my chest...

He will never again sit on my shoulder and preen my cheek and neck with his beak...

There is so much about him that I will miss for the remainder of my life. I am no longer even able to weigh my sweet, cherished friend on his scale because now he's unable to step onto the scale's perch - he can no longer stand and balance and he's so uncomfortable.

As if all of the above weren't enough, I know that during the short time we have left he will never quite trust me again, since I must force him to take daily pain medications. He considers the process torturous... but he needs the meds each day until he's gone.

Life has become pure HELL!

[Dragonlady2]

Oh Tony…it never seems to get better does it? I continue to have similar thoughts regarding my dog Missy and, recently, my cat, Squeek. Maybe it’s because I am older, but these deaths have hit me harder and it’s taking longer to heal emotionally.

Take care…maybe the day will come when the happier memories will outnumber the sad ones. For both of us.

[PlaxMacaws]

Thanks for your supportive words, Helena.

You're right... my feelings about losing Zaf never seem to subside. In fact, I care so much about him that the thought of eventually feeling better is quite disturbing for me in its own way. I don't want to feel guilty like that, but I also don't want to continue feeling devastated like this. So there's no winning position it seems. Then add in the fact that nearly everything triggers my memories of Zaf and those of his horrible decline and it becomes an incessant realm of mental agony I'm forced to endure each day. I know I've said this before, but nothing in my life has ever hit me quite this hard. He was my special baby and I'm still grieving for him severely.

In any case, I very much appreciate your comments, Helena. It sounds like you may fully understand my struggle based on your similar feelings concerning Missy and Squeek. I wish the best for you on coping with those tragic losses and your ensuing feelings.