Well - last Thursday was terrible. recap, she was stuck in a bike when I got home from work. I don't know how long she'd been there. Then she wandered out to the back gate, which was odd because she hadn't wanted to be outside for a couple of months. But it looked like she wanted to go out into the park, so I took her for a little halting walk. On the way back, just at the trail by my back gate, she started to throw up and my phone rang. Yep, she's there throwing up, and her neurologist calls for an update. It was so hard to hold it together to talk to her. She insisted that I take her off the doxycycline, so now she's on nothing. If I want to go ahead with the spinal tap, it would cost $600 (plus hospitalization fees . . .), but she doesn't really think that treating Bailey for GME would change the problem with her eating. I'm force feeding her, about 8 times a day. She's a pancreatitis girl, so I have to stick with normal or bland food. And she wants to be fed, I've been force feeding her since Saturday May 10.

Well, I just can't do it for much longer. The day after she was stuck in the bike, Friday, I ran downstairs after work to find that she was stuck behind a tv speaker. Now, I'd "Bailey-proofed" the basement the night before, looking for anywhere she could get her entire body stuck, and here I find her in the dead roach position, with just her head stuck behind the speaker. She wasn't in any duress - but she hadn't used the bathroom all day - so was she stuck all day?

Then, Sunday morning, I'm out (in my bathrobe and no shoes) in the back-yard with her. She wandered down to the back gate and stood there looking out for a few minutes; then wandered through the ivy into a thicket of brush and got stuck in a forsythia bush. DH woke to the sound of me calling her and trying to get her to come out; I didn't want to walk in there! There's snakes and poison ivy. But I had no choice. By the time I got her out, DH was all "So do you really think it's a good idea to let her wander back there???" . . . oh hi, and a nice good morning to you too. . .

We wake up every time she moves at night and take her outside. I woke once to find her trying to get behind the dresser, stuck behind the floor fan. And another time, just as I was opening the door to take her outside, she squatted and peed right there, practically on my feet.

It is so frustrating. This is not how I want her to spend her final days. Force feeding, being carried outside time and again, us trying to stay a step ahead of her outside, so she doesn't go into a thicket, under the deck, up the steps . . . it's maddening. When she's up, and especially outside, she's constantly trying to get into something unsafe. Who knew my backyard, and heck, even my basement, were such minefields of danger.

It has to stop. She has no quality to her life, and I can't keep her safe. She's gotten so thin, that she could fit through the rails on the deck. This morning, I thought she was going to jump.

I think this is how you know it's time. I'd been wondering. But now I know.

Stuck in a bike

I wonder how long she'd been there.

Yesterday, I rushed downstairs to see her and let her out the downstairs back door. But I hadn't opened the upstairs back door, so I blocked the staircase with a chair and made her lie down while I ran around to the front door and through the house to find that she was still lying down where I had put her.

Later, I went to the store and bought some baby gates to block both sides of the steps.

Today, plan in hand, I rushed through the front door, grabbed a baby gate, headed to the back door and the steps, where I planned on putting the gate up, leaving the door open, and then rushing downstairs to see her when I heard a little barking. I stopped dead in my tracks, listened hoping that it was coming from the park outside. When I heard it again, my heart stopped because I knew it was coming from downstairs.

I ran downstairs calling her, saying "it's ok", and I couldn't find her.

I ran through the rec room, the library/ foosball room, and the bathroom before she barked again. And that's how I found her. Stuck in a bicycle. Her left front leg was jammed between the peddle and the gear shaft. The gear shaft was pressing into her chest. Her hind legs were collapsing underneath her. That they hadn't collapsed already made me think this hadn't been going on for very long.

I was afraid I was going to break her little leg when I pulled it free, and she restrained herself from biting me. Such trust.

Then she started to struggle, but she was still threaded through the bike. She rolls off her butt now, and falls on her side. I grabbed her neck and chest and held her, calmed her, while i pulled the bike free, then let her slide to the ground.

I let her stay there for fifteen minutes. She seemed comfortable, but I had to know if she was hurt, and I have to force feed her every hour until bedtime, so I got her up. She leaned against me, her hind legs tangled and crossed. I helped her straighten out and lead her outside where she just stood still looking out into the park.

After a little while, she ventured off the patio for a poop, and then started wandering, a little aimlessly around the yard, showing interest in going out the back gate. It's been a long while since she wanted to go outside, let alone out the back gate. So, I ran and grabbed her leash, just as I was calling DH to tell him that she'd survived a dangerous situation with the bike.

He wanted be to be cautious going out the back gate that the expletive deleted jerk whose dog attacked Bailey in September wasn't around. I told him that I'd just pick her up if she was in danger, not to worry.

Bailey let the walk. First the few feet down the trail to the bike path, where she just stood and looked around. Eventually she walked over the path and pee-ed on the other side. The stood and looked toward the bridge like she was ready to go.

"OK" I said. And she began a slow walk up the path. She was panting a bit. And we walked quite a ways, a tiny portion of our regular walks. But far enough for me to stop and ask "Just how far are we going? Huh?" She stopped for a while and looked around. "I think we'd better go back, ok?" and we slowly turned around and headed back to the bridge.

I heard little footsteps behind me as we neared the bridge. Little steps trying to catch up with us on the gravel path, and there was a little girl, like so many other children, who saw Bailey and wanted to pet her. But Bailey had stopped on the bridge and wandered over to the edge to look about. The little girl and her young mom caught up with us on the bridge, and the mom said "Oh, my, she's an old girl isn't she?"

And I said "well, she wasn't a few months ago." And the tears welled up as the walked away.

We were just a few feet away from the trail that leads to our back gate, but it took a long while to get there. Half-way up the short trail, Bailey started to wretch, and my phone rang.

Stuck in a chair

I decided to feed Bailey outside. It's less mess and I wouldn't have to carry her back out to pee afterward. I sat on the coffee table, and she sat (!) facing me. Once I forced the dog-food-jell-o-jiggler's down her throat, she laid down, still facing the coffee table and went to sleep. I went inside to make another batch of force food, and then out front to talk to my friend. I had checked on her just moments before, and from the drive way I saw her move and looked to find her turned around and trapped underneath the lawn chair. It was pitiful, but she wasn't stressed. I was terribly afraid she'd hurt herself, but I thought it was important to document.