Ryder's Memorial and Emergency Care

Yesterday I had to say good bye to my sweet, silly, beloved boy, Ryder. I adopted him when he was around a year old from the AWA after being a stray in Georgia, taken to a high kill shelter and transported up to NJ. He was initially adopted by someone else, and soon returned to the shelter for wanting to chase their kitties. The second I saw him I knew he was mine. He was severely under weight, and had horribly burned feet from walking the hot streets, but he didn't show any signs of pain or insecurity. He fit in with us perfectly, and he and Samm because instant best friends and brother and sister. They loved playing rough, and romping around in the yard, and Samm eventually taught him what toys were.  He also thought he was a lap dog, even though he grew to about 100lbs. A few of his favorite things in life were swimming, and rolling in the snow, but what he loved most was cuddling in bed with his momma. He and Samm unwrap their presents every birthday and Christmas, and he always LOVED when his entire family would visit for Christmas morning at our house. He was great at kissing your entire face, and getting every inch. He would wake me up every morning with kisses and snuggles before asking to go out. The pups have always been my protectors and have gotten me through so many difficult times. I am grateful to have had time off earlier this year during quarantine, soaking up the extra snuggles with my pups. Ryder loved going for walks, and seeing the bunnies run around. The night before he got really bad, I took him for a walk in his favorite neighborhood and he got to sniff all of his favorite bushes, and chased two bunnies. 

On Thursday night, I found a spot of vomit when I got home from work, and Ryder only ate half of his dinner. This was the first time he refused food in the entire time I've known him. I took him for the nice walk to cheer him up and get some fresh air, but he began throwing up massive amounts of water throughout the night. I was hoping it was just a stomach bug and he would feel better in the morning, but he became more lethargic, and I knew I needed to take him to the vet first thing in the morning. We got to their office Friday morning when they opened and he had a full examination, blood work, fluids, medication and x rays. They couldn't see a blockage, and diagnosed him with Acute Pancreatitis. I kept a close eye on him and he began declining rapidly, and lost all will to get up. I needed help getting him into the car because at the time he didn't have the strength to walk. He was taken in for emergency surgery Friday night into Saturday morning. Even though there were complications and a lot of damage, the surgeon, Dr. Molly, was still hopeful that he could recover, and lead a fulfilling life. She told me she would treat him as her own without me even asking, and I put all of my faith in her skilled hands. There was a blood clot during surgery, but they corrected the issue and pulses returned quickly. She called with an update Saturday morning that he was our of surgery, alive and in recovery. A little while later, I thought the hospital was calling to say he was doing well and I could come see my boy, but instead he was crashing and dysphoric, and needed to be intubated again. He was dying. I rushed there to say good bye and I was a total mess. I arrived in the ICU and the entire team of about 15 nurses and doctors were working on him. They explained how unstable his vitals were and showed me his erratic heart activity on the monitor and EKG. I didn't want to see him suffering for a second longer, so I kissed him and told him how much I loved him. Miraculously, I watched his heart stabilize on the monitor in front of my eyes. The conversation turned hopeful and we planned to let him rest, then take him off of the ventilator Saturday night. That evening I got the wonderful news from his Critical Care Doctor that he was off of ventilation and breathing on his own. His vitals were stable, and I was extremely hopeful for good news Sunday morning. 

Unfortunately, Sunday morning I received the dreaded call that Ryder did not improve over night, and all signs were pointing to neurological issues. We think a blood clot moved to his brain during surgery, and he never really "woke up" as himself. The hospital had gone above and beyond, and I did everything I possibly could to save him, but his body let us know it was time. I held my baby and gave him hundreds of kisses and told him how much Sammer and I love him. I thanked him for saving me so many times and being the best boy I could ever hope for. I let him know my childhood dog, Molly, was up there waiting for him, and now they could run around and be best friends. 

I hate asking for help, and I especially hate asking for money, but I never expected to build up such a massive amount of debt within just a few days. However, I don't regret a single decision I made, because I had his best intentions in mind. My dogs are my family, and they've given me more than I could ever give them. I am hoping to raise money to help with the cost of his emergency care, and his cremation. I should get Ryder's ashes in about a week, and I'll be over the moon to have him back home, one way or another. From the money I raise, I also plan on making a small donation to the AWA, and Mt. Laurel Animal Hospital. If you've read this far, I can't thank you enough, and I am so grateful for the help, support, and kind words throughout this horrible time.