Dogs and Us

I love dogs, as does my whole family, but the trials that befell us last year left a deep mark on our hearts.

BUTCH

Our story with Butch started when my wife found an advertisement for a dog for sale online. It was about a toy terrier - a breed that is almost the size of a cat. She fell in love at first sight, and when she decided to buy him, I didn't object. Butch was only about four months old when he became a member of our family. We had never had small dogs before, but this little one immediately won our hearts. He became especially attached to my wife: he slept next to her, and when I kissed her on the cheek or hugged her, he would growl, bark, and even lightly bite - not out of anger, but rather to express his protest.

Four happy years passed, but in the fall of 2024, Butch started having problems: he began to vomit and stopped eating. At first, we thought he was poisoned as all vaccinations had been done, and many diseases were ruled out. We visited two veterinary clinics in our city, but each lacked the necessary equipment - including an ultrasound machine. Initially, he was given injections and put on IV fluids, then they tried to perform all procedures at the second clinic, but his condition worsened. Finally, we were advised to transport him to Almaty (about 280 km from our city), where all the necessary equipment for complete diagnostics was available.

I stayed at work, and my wife and Butch went to Almaty by taxi on the same day.
When they had traveled about halfway, my wife called, her voice trembling, and informed me that Butch had taken a critical turn for the worse: he was vomiting blood, and most likely would not survive until the clinic. We decided that as long as he was breathing, we should continue.

My wife sent voice messages regularly: - "We have arrived in Almaty, he is still alive." - "I'm already at the clinic, he is still breathing." Finally, they arrived safely, and Butch was taken to the doctor, where he underwent an initial examination, had an ultrasound of all internal organs, and tests were taken. It turned out he had a stone in his gallbladder. When my wife asked about his chances of recovery, the doctor replied that the life-threatening risk was not so high: Butch could likely be saved if left in the clinic for 3-4 days, given vitamins for strengthening his body, and awaiting the results of tests to prepare for surgery. My wife left her phone number at the clinic. She would have stayed with Butch if it were possible, but she had to leave him there and return home, waiting for news from the hospital.

Two days later, the doctor called: - "Hello, Butch is in excruciating pain. After the anesthesia, his blood pressure spiked, and his heart may not withstand it. Right now he is on the verge of life and death. We will do everything possible, but in the next few hours, it will be clear whether we can save him." About an hour later, the doctor informed us that Butch was no more. At that moment, the entire family burst into tears - my 16-year-old son, 14-year-old daughter, my wife, and myself. The next day, I went to retrieve his body from Almaty, and that evening we buried him at our country house. Those days were a true ordeal for us, especially for my wife.

YUTA

About two weeks later, still unable to overcome the loss, my wife decided that we needed to get another puppy, hoping that a new companion would help us cope with the pain faster. Turning to the internet, she found a Chihuahua puppy in Almaty. According to the agreement with the seller, the puppy was to be brought to the bus station, where she arrived. However, at the meeting, the seller claimed to have forgotten the veterinary passport with vaccinations at home and promised to send it by taxi to our city. Later, it turned out that this was likely deliberate, and the puppy had not received the necessary vaccinations. We named her Yuta. She was about three months old. Everything was going well on the first day, but the next day she fell ill. We took her to the hospital, where the doctors suspected she had parvovirus, and the chances of recovery were 50/50. For three days, we fought for her life, taking her for injections and IV fluids twice a day, but we were unable to save her. The puppy spent her last days, lying in her prepared spot, not getting up. Before her death, she let out a loud squeak, and her heart stopped. Next to her was my daughter, which became a huge stress for her, and our home was filled with tears again. I wrapped her small body in several bags, took a small shovel, and went to the forest plantation outside the city. In the darkness, lighting my way with my phone's flashlight, I searched for a burial spot until I found a small pit, deepened it, left the sleeping beauty there, and then covered the spot with the stones I found to prevent animals from reaching her body. Returning home, we were all crestfallen and decided not to bring a dog into the house for some time.

IRIS

Three months later, we decided to try again. From reputable breeders, we purchased a toy terrier puppy with a full set of vaccinations. We named her Iris, and now, after a month, she is doing well.