You are here ~~> Canines Corner~~> Topics ~~> Rescue Success Stories ~~> Rogaine - R.I.P.

Rogaine was always like a heavily loaded tractor trailer rig… With his bulk and height, it took awhile for him to get rolling, but once he did it was like a Mack truck going downhill…

Oh, he’d always do his best to be first once I opened the patio door – there was some unspoken contest amongst the five to be the first one out and around the corner of the back of the house…

The babies (Peanut and Riley, both Chihuahuas) were so much smaller in size and height, they were able to go underneath his belly and legs, scooting out ahead of him… And they were much faster in speed as well, so they usually won the contest… They’d be followed by BooBooDog and then YogiBear with Rogaine trailing closely behind…

It really didn’t matter Rogaine got there last… He was always so much taller than anyone else and could readily peer over top of their heads and shoulders… The rest of the pupper pack came to depend on that height and bulk… For Rogaine could see more easily what was being prepared on the countertop than they could… He was always the first to know when food was around… And the other four knew it – when Rogaine alerted, everyone else did too…

I’ve often thought that maybe Rogaine was more visually expressive because of the lack of hair on his face… It took him almost two years just to grow that white shock of hair - ‘Mohawk’ fashion - on his forehead between his ears…

And maybe I do have a degree in anthropomorphism, but I know for a fact he communicated quite well with his facial expressions.  Add to that, the twenty or thirty different vocalizations he was capable of, and Rogaine was more than capable of getting you to understand what he was trying to express (if you were paying attention!).

It was only 18 days from the time I found the lumps until we went back to Dr. Gonzales’ office for Rogaine to cross the Rainbow Bridge… If you don’t have a close connection to your current vet, let me say right now - don’t waste time in finding one that you can relate to… I don’t believe I can ever thank her enough for her kindness, compassion and gentle manner of speaking…

And in those 18 days, I prayed for a miracle… And I watched an active, always ready-to-go sweet personality disappear day by day… Especially in the last week or so… Once on the Prednisone, I looked daily for improvements… Instead, Rogaine started losing the ability of his back legs… He began to step gingerly like each step was painful… Instead of staying with the pupper pack, he began to position himself so that he could see – but didn’t need to get up from his dog bed…

Normally where I go in the house, everyone follows me… Either in front of me, aside of me or behind me… Wherever I'd stopped, they would too and settle in around me for however long I stayed in that one place... If tired, they might lag behind occasionally, but they all know my schedule and approximate times for things… If I’m delayed according to the time they’ve allotted me, they’ll come find me…

And I’ve told the story many times about going to the bathroom… There’s only one way in and one way out (unless I’m going to climb up 5’ and through a 2’ high window – not)… I never do anything differently in there, but for some odd reason, I always end up with a pupper audience… The babies can’t push open the bathroom door on their own…

Well, actually none of them can but Rogaine…

When I was too long according to their internal clocks – even if they heard the shower water running - Peanut and Riley would first attempt to open the bathroom door… If Rogaine hadn’t followed them, they’d run back to him almost as if to say, “Hurry up!  We need your muscle to push open that door!”…

One day earlier this year, I purposefully closed the bathroom door and tucked myself into the office across the hallway so I could see what happened from the other side… Once the babies had gotten Rogaine down the hallway, they hung back… He looked at the closed door, lowered his head and tilted it slightly outwards, then pushed the door with his right shoulder to pop it open… The bathroom door latch never closed real tight, so that’s all it needed – a shoulder push from Rogaine – and it would open…

In the last week or so, even Peanut and Riley couldn’t convince Rogaine to leave his doggie bed… They’d run back up the hall, dance in front of him, and he’d continue to lay there and just watch… I knew he was hurting and uncomfortable because Rogaine never liked to be left out of anything!

He’s probably the only dog that had little hair that went to the groomers regularly… Just because he didn’t like to be left behind… If I took just YogiBear and BooBooDog to Maggie’s and Rogaine stayed home, he’d pace throughout the house until they finally came back home later in the day…

Say the word “bye-bye” and he’d do this horse-like prance until he saw his halter and leash… Rogaine never could climb into the back seat of the truck, but he knew that the others would, and he’d wait for me to pick him up and put him in…

Didn’t matter to him he was the last to get in – he knew he was taller and heavier, so he’d get his spot in the back seat – usually by the back passenger window and he was a happy camper…  YogiBear would take the left window and BooBooDog would spend her time trying to figure out why she didn’t have her own window! (smile)…

Rogaine couldn’t climb steps easily… Never could… Prior to being diagnosed with lymphosarcoma, he slept aside of my bed in a HUGE, extra large double dog bed pillow like a dog four times his weight would have… The others would hop up the doggie steps aside of the bed and in they’d go… Burrowing underneath blankets… Rogaine would step onto his pillow and wait… Wait for me to reach over and pull his blankee up over top of him, for he liked to sleep underneath the covers too…

About a week before the end, I was putting him to bed and going through my routine of rubbing his head and telling him what a good dog he was… And a low cry escaped him… At first I thought I touched something that hurt, but then realized he was just actually whimpering in a low tone… That wasn’t Rogaine… Rogaine didn’t ‘cry’… ‘Talked’ all the time, but he never whimpered… He’d almost ‘scream’ when getting his shots, but never cried…

He eventually went to sleep that night after moving around for awhile, trying to get comfortable and I laid there thinking to myself that I wasn’t doing the right thing… I wasn’t ready to give him up, but he was starting to suffer and that wasn’t right either… Rogaine had steadfastly been my companion, never asking for more than my love, attention and of course, food – as he was a compulsive eater…

Many times during ‘bad days’ with my health, he’d lay against my back and it was like a living hot water bottle because his temperature by breed was higher than most dogs… He always knew when I wasn’t feeling well… And tried his best – in his own way – to do what he could to make me feel better…

Over that last weekend, I started needing to carry him outside in the mornings… I could tell he had to go potty just by the look in his face, but he seemed to battle inside over forcing himself to get up and go – or to just stay and wait until he could wait no longer… Once outside, he'd lay and 'sunbath'... Something he never did before as his dark coat would attract heat and he'd get hot...

Later in the day, he’d start returning to his old self, and I’d second guess myself about it all… “See, he is getting better… It’s just my imagination that he’s getting worse”…

And then I’d find another lump…

Sunday, I found his chest cavity had started swelling up so badly that I couldn't get his halter on for a walk without opening it up to a much larger size…

We could no longer get all the way around the park and I had started walking Rogaine with Peanut because Rogaine could no longer keep up with YogiBear…

Rogaine’s one step was like five of Peanut’s, so at first that worked OK…

On Monday’s walk, I left Peanut behind at the house and just took Rogaine by himself… Midway to the park, he started walking like he was stepping on coals… Once across the street, he stopped, turned and looked at me like I was asking too much of him…

Some of the children saw him and curious as kids always are, they asked me why he wasn’t wearing any ‘clothes’… Tolerant as he was, the kids wanted to feel his skin and he stood – as usual – as strangers rubbed his back… He’d gotten used to this over the years… For wherever we went, people had the need to feel him… A hairless dog isn’t that uncommon, but I guess people have the urge to feel the sensation… The kids asked me why he was born like that, and I replied that he was a special dog… They asked him name and although they didn’t think it strange or odd, their parents laughed (as everyone always did)… His name seemed ‘normal’ to us, but it always evoked a smile or laugh…

When the kids were done with their pats, Rogaine turned his head towards me and gave me that look… “OK, Mom… it’s time to go home… I’ve had enough of a walk” and we slowly headed back to the house… Normally, Rogaine would be like a steam roller on the return trip home… Pulling at the halter, in a hurry to get back to his bowl of water, backyard and doggie bed… It took us longer to get home than it had to get to the park this time… And it saddened me…

The next day I talked to Dr. Gonzales on the phone… Thank goodness for her gentle conversations… I just couldn’t bring myself to putting Rogaine down – despite knowing each day that things were going downhill and not improving… I don’t remember all of her words… Just the sweetness and gentleness of them over the phone… “He’s there… He’s ready…”… I was the problem – I was the one causing him more pain…

So we discussed what needed to be done and she would have someone check her schedule for the next day…

Rogaine ALWAYS loved food… And I mean – he LOVED food… I had to stop ‘free-feeding’ because he would finish up his plate, then head for someone else’s… Peanut’s always the last one to eat for some reason… By the time she’d get ready, her plate would be empty… So it was always a constant battle with me trying to maintain her weight and keeping him from gaining…

A treat for any of the puppers is being to eat what we eat… And Rogaine particularly liked cheese steaks… (like I do)… Here in Simi, we have a shop that makes them pretty darned close to those from Philly… I decided that Rogaine would have his own this time and although the owner looked at me quite oddly when I ordered it that day, I really didn’t care… I’ve stopped feeling ‘odd’ when non-dog people look at me funny…

He’d not been able to keep things down real well once we started the steroids, so I cut Rogaine’s cheese steak in half and then in small bites for him… After he finished half of it, we went for a walk to the park… I readjusted his halter yet again and we did get to the park that night… But not much further… I sat down in the grass and he stood by me, watching the kids and smelling the air and odors around him…

His profile faced me and I couldn’t stop thinking how majestic he was… How many fantastic memories I’d had of this dog… Thinking back at how tiny he was when I adopted him and as he grew his white spots and hair... For he was slate grey with no hair and no white spots and didn't get those until he was about 18 months old in fact...

Going cross-country three times in the RV with us… How he was the ‘fulcrum’ of the pack – playing with the babies and being so gentle (not always easy with Chihuahuas) and yet, ready at a moment’s notice to defend ‘his’ property along with YogiBear… There would never, ever be another ‘Rogaine’… He was a one-and-only kind of dog…

I’d taken to lifting him up into bed with me at nights as he couldn’t get comfortable in his bed, despite all the padding, once he'd gotten ill … He had an easier time of it on the sleep number bed, but not much… I rubbed his back and coo’d to him, telling him everything would be alright… Eventually he went to sleep that night…

The next morning, my family said their goodbyes to him… Rogaine didn’t even come out of the kennel…  He laid there with his head down and you could see in his eyes, he was not having a good morning… At noon, I put his halter on him and he almost seemed better… A bit of ‘puppy spunk’ in him again… I stood by the door a few seconds more than I should have, second guessing myself (yet again) and the babies flew out from underneath him into the garage… Peanut came back right away when I called, but Riley climbed underneath the Saturn (definitely unusual) and refused to come out… Was this a sign from somewhere?... Was I doing the right thing?...

As I coaxed Riley out, Rogaine tried to sit down and cried out in pain… Rogaine never sat – he was a ‘stander’ always as long as I’ve had him…

I finally got Riley to come out, put him back in the house and opened the garage door… Rogaine never sat in the front seat as he didn’t have a good set of ‘sea legs’ and preferred the back seat most times…  This time though, I lifted him up into the front seat and he leaned into me to make the trip to Dr. Gonzales’ office…

Once there, they put a blanket on the floor and I sat down, Rogaine between my legs… Dr. Gonzales explained in detail what was going to happen and examined him one more time… The fluid in his chest was now three times what it was before we’d started the steroids… Rogaine was always solid like a drum… Always a big dog, but never flabby… Even though his legs had remained ‘spindly,’ the rest of him had swelled… (guess from the cancers and the steroids)…

They gave him the first shot of tranquilizers and within moments, he began to relax… I could see he was standing and not ‘holding himself to stand’, know what I mean?...  Without warning, he sat down… And in six years, I’d never seen Rogaine sit more than I could count on one hand… He either stood or laid down… He looked at me and for the first time in weeks, the furrows in his brows relaxed like my old Rogaine…

He folded his front paws underneath like a deer would do and slowly rested his head on my left thigh… He continued to look from side to side as was his norm, so I could see the tiny corners of white behind those deep black eyes of his… And then he began to get sleepy-looking… Slowly, slowly Rogaine began to ‘lean into me’ as was his custom and I could feel his heart beating against my leg…

Dr. Gonzales continued to check in on us, and I was grateful for the gentleness of her voice and spirit… Eventually Rogaine was relaxed enough and they came in with the second shot… He looked up at me one more time and although in my head I know the tranquilizers had totally taken effect, my heart was telling me that look was to tell me how much he loved me… You might say it’s not possible, but I saw and felt six years of unconditional love and devotion in that last look…

And he was gone… Gone to wait for me when I meet him again… No more pain for him and me at that time… When we can both walk to the park and two miles again without pain or worry…  Wait for me at the Bridge, Rogaine… Watch out for the little dogs around you in the meantime and keep them safe like you did with Peanut and Riley… You’re the best!

Hugs, Mom

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