In Focus

Sunday was a terrible day for my family as we had to say goodbye to Mom’s dog, Pepper.

For the past week, Pepper hadn’t been eating much. Mom tried various foods, from scrambled eggs to cat food, but nothing interested her. Over the weekend, Pepper began drinking large amounts of water, only to throw it right back up. Mom called our vet, who suggested that we take her to an emergency vet in either Fargo or St. Cloud due to Pepper’s diabetes.

We decided to go to Fargo, as many people recommended them. Thankfully, the wait time when we arrived was 3-6 hours. We had been there for about two hours when the veterinarian delivered the devastating news about Pepper’s condition.

She had something called Hyperosmolar Hyperglycemic State (HHS), a life-threatening complication of diabetes in dogs. This condition occurs when extremely high blood sugar levels (hyperglycemia) lead to severe dehydration and electrolyte imbalances. According to the vet, HHS is much worse than diabetic ketoacidosis and can cause brain damage, which we suspected Pepper was already experiencing, alongside symptoms like lethargy, vomiting, fever, and extreme thirst. Her blood glucose levels were so high they wouldn’t read without dilution. The vet also explained there was likely another underlying condition exacerbating the situation, probably kidney and/or heart disease.

The veterinarian explained that Pepper would need to be hospitalized for several days to potentially stabilize her, with a cost of $5,000 to $8,000 and only a 60% chance of survival. However, her long-term outlook was grim, as the condition was already affecting her organs, with a very high chance of relapse. She had only a 12% chance of survival over the next three months, which would likely involve more hospital visits to keep her stabilized. Given Pepper’s age—11 years—it didn’t look good.

There was only one logical choice to make, but Mom couldn’t do it. She was beyond hysterical; I’ve never seen her cry so hard in my life. Pepper meant everything to my mom; she was her constant companion and shadow.

The name Pepper came from the day she knocked over a can of Dr. Pepper and drank it. Pepper went shopping with Mom, had been in more stores than I can count, and even attended a few doctor’s appointments. She adored people, especially kids, and loved other animals, even if they didn’t like her. The cats loved Pepper and would cuddle with her in bed or rub against her as they walked by. Pepper broke up more cat fights than I can remember. It’s still too soon to tell if the cats have figured things out yet.

At every fair and town festival, Pepper would get some face paint. At every garage sale Mom took her to, Pepper would pick out a stuffed animal, and Mom would pay for it while Pepper carried it around in her mouth. She was the best and most well-mannered dog we’ve ever had, and was completely attached to Mom. If Mom left the house without her, Pepper would sit at the door and howl, even if I was right there. She was truly Mom’s dog.

I had to make the call to end Pepper’s suffering. Mom knew it was the right choice but was too emotional to do it herself. They took us to a cozy, home-like room to spend some time with Pepper before the inevitable goodbye. While we waited for her, I took care of the paperwork and payment first. There was a sign on the wall with a lit LED candle that said, “If this candle is lit, someone is saying goodbye to their beloved pet. We ask that you speak softly and with respect during this difficult time.” That was a sweet touch.

When the time came, the doctor administered the medications, only to discover that the catheter had blown and none of the medication went in. She had to call another technician to assist and administer the meds a second time. That was rough, but it wasn’t anyone’s fault that it happened.

Many tears were shed, and Mom is not okay. It’s going to be a long road ahead, and she is completely heartbroken. She needs time to grieve and heal.

Rest in peace, Pepper. You are sorely missed.