On Friday, November 9, 2018, we lost our beloved cairn terrier Frankie at the too young age of 4. He was the youngest member of the F-troop and was also kin to Fearghus and Fiona. On January 25, 2017 we almost lost him but our amazing vet, Dr. Michelle, quickly recognized that he was in an Addisonian crisis from Addison's Disease and saved him. We quickly learned how to keep him stable and took him in for his monthly injections of Percoten. If he was going to have a stressful day (ie .. going to the groomers, the vet, or on a trip) then we'd also give him daily pills of Prednisone (a steroid). He was doing very well on this. But then we had to move from Sunnyvale. It was on our very first extended trip to Vancouver, WA that we realized that he was getting too stressed being in the hotel for such a long time. After I dosed him with three times his usual daily dose of steroids we made the decision to let him stay in WA with his breeder until we could finish building the house.
He was happy as a clam there. He got to run outside in an area about 1/4 acre with a few other cairn terriers. He only needed his monthly injection and didn't feel stressed at all. We got to visit him a few times but were really looking forward to getting him in November to come live with us again. Less than two weeks before he died we got to spend an afternoon with him at the hotel. He had to have his teeth cleaned and I picked him up from the vet. We loved it so much!!!
On that fateful Friday morning, the same day that the movers were moving us into the house, Frankie was attacked and quickly went into both shock and a bit of an Addisonian crisis. His almost lifeless body was rushed to the local vet where he was administered IV fluids and steroids. Within an hour we were also at the vet's office. Almost two hours later we were able to see him. He was laying down but when he heard our voices he struggled to stand up for a moment. We petted him but could see that he was in some pain. At the time we all thought that perhaps he may have a fractured leg and that he'd be able to come home that night. So Steve and I went back to the hotel. I then met the movers at the house and directed them.
At the exact moment that the movers finished and I was getting in the car to return to the hotel, the vet called and said that Frankie was coding and that they were trying CPR. I told them to stop. It was the saddest moment that I've remembered having in a long time.
Unfortunately in the attack he must have had an artery slightly nicked because his numbers were getting worse even with all of the IVs and medicines. He must have bled out which is why his little heart stopped. We don't know exactly why he was attacked. Perhaps the little breeding bitch came into season unexpectedly and took a disliking to Frankie. He was such a sweetie pie .. never attacked another dog ever. It was such a tragedy and we're still grieving every day for our cuddle bug.
He will be missed! I do hope that there is such a thing as the Rainbow Bridge, or a heaven, and that the best part of our little Frankie is frolicking around, barking at cows, and curling up on the tops of the couches.
Rest in peace my little furbaby. I can't tell you how much we loved you. There will always be a Frankie-sized piece of my heart that is missing. The severe grief is subsiding but still there are times when I see something that reminds me of him.
