Talia's Tale: Broken Heart in the Most Literal Sense

This might be the only photo that exists of Talia, the one we took for the website when things were brighter and we hoped to find her a loving home. If there are other photos, they would have been taken later and they wouldn't wouldn't show the bright-eyed Talia we would like to remember.

Talia was a teeny tiny beagle with great big eyes and a habit of crouching in terror when any human approached. If you used a soft voice, however, she would wag her tail while crouching and eventually put her chin in kind hands and crawl into a waiting lap. This is what we wanted for her future- kind words every day and a lap anytime she wanted it.

There really wasn't a future at all for Talia, however. She came to us in February and I bid her goodbye last night- a very short stay in the land of comfort and love.

When I started this blog, my intent was to share some success stories and a little bit of the joy that rescued animals bring to my daily existence. The heartbreak, I believe, is best left to other venues and is certainly not to be dwelt upon.

Talia, however, and the others like her, deserves her moment.

Unlike so many abandoned and neglected beagles, Talia got a golden opportunity. She got rescued. In one fell swoop, her bleak little life became one of possibility- a new home, a soft bed, plenty of food and companionship were all to be hers. She was totally poised to be the star of someone's life.

Except for the matter of her heart.

Talia came to us heartworm positive like so many rural dogs. Like we do for all the rest, we had her treated- an expensive and painful procedure. Unlike the others, however, Talia didn't recover very well. In fact, she began a serious decline with fainting spells and a belly that began to fill with fluid.

Talia visited a veterinary cardiologist (this for the beagle who had probably never visited a vet in her lifetime). Ultrasound tests gave us very bad news- the right side of Talia's heart was simply not working properly and was impressively enlarged. It was just not able to do its job and thus the fluid was backing up and dispersing in her abdomen. We began a regimen of medications, but nothing helped. The fluid was relentless and eventually interfered with her breathing, though not with her love of chicken nuggets and cheese burgers.

The part of this that sits with me beyond the sadness of losing such a sweet and innocent life is that it was 100% preventable. The massive damage to Talia's heart was due totally to the heartworm infestation. There was no congenital defect, no reason her heart should not have happily pumped for the next 8 years or so. Had Talia been given monthly heartworm preventatives or been treated promptly for the heartworm disease, I would be writing about how happy she was in her new home instead of writing her obituary.

And, so, I am mad. I am mad that Talia is gone, mad that humans don't take responsibility, mad that my best efforts and the resources of a wonderful organization were not enough. Talia won the doggie lottery only to have it taken away before she could cash the check, and that's just not right.

Talia, I know, fared better than many. She got a few months of the good life and her death was humane and peaceful. Soon, I will move my focus to being grateful I could provide these things for her and I will move on to help the next one. But for this little moment in time, well... this is Talia's moment.