Bailey, my 16 year old Maltese almost died last year. I was told he had a tumor on his pancreas, he would potentially live just a few weeks, and that exploratory surgery was necessary to see if their diagnosis was correct. To there dismay , I refused and took Bailey home with me last February. I did not want to put him through the suffering of a surgery that wouldn't heal him, but only reaffirm the vets probable diagnosis. I feed him with a syringe filled with baby food and diluted with water every two hours, for over two weeks. Bailey rallied and in about 3 weeks was his old self. Running, jumping, and fighting with our two other dogs.
Every day I felt blessed to have him in my life. The vet felt it was no less than a miracle that he survived the incident the previous February. I did not take him for granted. He was his usual self all the way to the end, barking at 5:30 am for his breakfast, barking at any dog that dared to walk across our front yard, climbing inside the trash and basically letting our other two dogs know, that he was boss. Even with his body becoming thin and frail, his imposing personality kept him the alpha dog with our other two dogs.
On January 19th at about 1:30 am, my husband ,Bailey's best friend, woke me very distraught. After a normal day of chasing our other two dogs , begging food from the table and stealing milk bones from our puppy, Bailey was unable to stand. We placed him on our bed and calmly petted him. After about 10 minutes his breathing stopped and he seemed to sleep comfortably. I was so thankful that he did not suffer, and seemed to be at peace.
Bailey always persevered. The tiny little guy with the yippee little bark lived his life all the way until the end , as the ruler of our home. .