Comments@THE GUSS REPORT-My family is emerging from a month-long haze because we recently let go of Morsel, a beautiful, intelligent and resilient special needs rescue dog who came from the high-kill Los Angeles Animal Services during Eric Garcetti’s disastrous and inhumane time as Mayor of LA – a leader who misled the public about what the words euthanasia and no kill really mean.
While we prefer larger dogs with human names, the dog who became Morsel wasn’t a natural fit for us, but because one of our other dogs was on the decline, we wanted to save whichever dog was most in need of a miracle. Morsel was a kewpie-doll in her appearance and so small that we were originally going to name her Venti because she was no bigger than a Starbucks cup.
Back then, Morsel’s primary problem was a severely deformed leg, but with many rescue friends, we always got the best veterinarian for the given malady. Morsel’s leg could be fixed, our preferred surgeon said, but it would be multiple surgeries when an amputation is all she needed. He was right when he predicted that the next morning she would be up on her feet, learning to balance, walk and ready to get on with her life.
No problem. We also had her spayed and a hernia repaired. Soon, she tooled around the neighborhood, though she loved being carried on my left forearm, as it boosted her street cred among neighborhood dogs. Over time I developed pinched nerves from my shoulder to wrist that we humorously diagnosed as “Morsel Elbow.” She developed a diva mentality toward everyone other than this columnist, unless they had chicken or sugar-free ice cream; the girl had a heck of an appetite. We were a team, she had determined, and she bulked up to become the 8 lb. alpha everywhere we rolled. And did we have a blast with Morsel memes!
She eventually needed MCL surgery on her “good” leg and another crack at the darned hernia. No problem.
We realized that Morsel was also deaf because she never responded to noises or her name. But she learned hand- and foot-signals and became our protector. When Morsel barked at someone passing by the patio fence, the others would bark and rush to the door to see what was going on. They took their cues from her.
Morsel was first to learn the doggie door, so we put in staggered tile pavers on the patio so she could step through without tumbling down. We put in solar lights with motion detectors so the moment she went out to do her business it lit up like Dodger Stadium, where the primary noise was not the crack of a baseball bat but the crisp bang of the bug zapper doing its thing.
One of Morsel’s eyes was off-center, and she had corneal edema. No problem. That’s why we have veterinary ophthalmologists and a little ointment. She was partially blind in one eye but coped and thrived no matter the challenge.
Did I mention that the tip of Morsel’s tail was broken, and she snorted due to likely in-breeding from wherever she came? Still, Morsel loved her snacks, noisily downing it all. She learned to go up and down ramps to get to the sofas and bed, where she blocked the other dogs from joining. I tell ya, she was a tough girl!
Morsel developed a leaky heart valve and hypertension. No problem, because that’s why we have veterinary cardiologists, and she had the best who fixed it primarily with tiny doses of Viagra. Her resilience provided perspective for us.
But recently, she frantically ran down the couch ramp, as though she was searching for oxygen. Her tongue turned blue and, in a panic, I recalled what little I know about infant CPR and mouth-to-mouth. She was limp as a ragdoll until I put her entire mouth and snout in my mouth and blew five forceful breaths into hers. She resumed breathing on her own, came to and calmly had some snacks a few minutes later, though I was a wreck.
Turns out, Morsel had a collapsing trachea, which led to other breathing attacks and an inability for her to get comfortable. Because of her collective health issues, there were no safe options to fix things this time. We became fearful that she would have a breathing attack while we were away and die alone in a panicked state.
Because of that risk, we didn’t have time to arrange a euthanasia at-home. On her last day, she had a breakfast sandwich from one of the local places, even though her people don’t eat that junk. I cut it into tiny bits and, while she would have eaten it without help, the diva in Morsel preferred hand feeding. True to her spirit, she gobbled the egg and cheese, and then the tiny, diced meat. When offered more of the egg, she spit it out as if to say, “go back to the meat, fella.”
Our family met at the park across the street once the sun rose on that balmy, blue-skied morning, and we walked through. When the vet opened, we reviewed everything to see if we had any unexplored options, but we did not. I reminded myself of my mantra, cheat the suffering, and cheat death, not because it was easy, but because it was now painfully necessary.
Our fantastic family member, the one with the most unlikely outcome of thriving in life, got a sedative though she was already calm and surrounded by family touching her. Then propofol put her into a full sleep state. Then her heart was brought to a slow stop. It was peaceful but numbing to us all. It is the truest meaning of the word euthanasia; stopping the suffering when there are no legitimate options.
I asked LA City Councilmember Paul Koretz whether it’s time to stop using misleading words like euthanasia (or shelter and No Kill, for that matter) because they are untruthful. I asked him for access to do a story on LA’s impound “bump rooms,” where they kill even the healthy, adoptable animals, and for him to join me there for it. I told him that it would be honorable and exemplary, in a day and age when we change the phrase homeless person to un-housed individual, to stop using the word euthanasia so dishonestly.
Koretz didn’t respond, perhaps because politicians hate admitting failure and dishonesty, so they instead accept a label of indifference.
By sharing Morsel’s story, she speaks as loudly from the other side of the Rainbow Bridge as she did in life with us.
Morsel, girl, you had a heck of a run, though not nearly as long as we all wanted. We were lucky to have you in the family all these years. Others who need a break, whether healthy or special needs, will hopefully get that chance as people read your story. While you will always be with us, we will see you and everyone else on the other side, okay? Love you, kiddo.
(Daniel Guss, MBA, is a member of the Los Angeles Press Club, and has contributed to CityWatchLA, KFI AM-640, iHeartMedia, 790-KABC, Huffington Post, Los Angeles Daily News, Los Angeles Magazine, Movieline Magazine, Emmy Magazine, Los Angeles Business Journal, Pasadena Star News, Los Angeles Downtown News, and the Los Angeles Times in its Sports, Opinion, Entertainment sections and Sunday Magazine, among other publishers. Follow him on Twitter @TheGussReport. His opinions are his own and do not necessarily reflect the views of CityWatch.) Prepped for CityWatch by Linda Abrams.
