our beloved 19 year doxie has been through some really rough spots. she has survived and gotten up after two back surgeries because we begged her to, and she stayed with us. Daisy started the dreaded cough last july. she is dying slowly of congestive heart failure due to cardiomyopathy. there is no question that we will not ask her to fight to stay for us any more. her wonderful vet is balancing her meds so well sometimes i think she may out live us all. then there are the nights of panic stricken coughing.
seven years ago our 15 year old lab was diagnosed accidently with a massive splenic tumor in an xray taken to determine if he had swallowed some chicken bones. i saw that thing and immediately knew he was done for. stymie lived a week. i can honestly say that i am so glad i never knew of that growth which would have caused me to have to make decisions, none of which could have saved his life.
what scares me most of all is that i won't recognize the Moment when it is time to euthanize Daisy. i'm terrified that i will cause her to suffer because i cannot imagine life without her. it is something that never leaves my subconscious, lurking there. i HATE to leave the house for even a moment unless she comes with us, but the excitement and cold are not good for her condition. i have done so much weeping by her side while she sleeps, i am not sure if there will be anything left when she does die. to complicate things my husband and i are not on the same page with end of life issues.
i can tell you that crying for me is the only way to get through this loss. you can't go over, around, under or behind the death of a beloved. the only way is Through.
daisy is now dying of the same disease which killed my father. God granted my daddy an easy death. i am praying that the same may be for daisy, but after my dad died, i don't think i can ever feel pain like that again. there is a wall that seems to protect me from that soul wrenching pain, the pain that made me seriously consider going to be with Dad so often i found myself asking my husband to only give me a week's worth of my prescription meds, i so didn't trust my will to live.
i cannot even think about the death of my husband or our son. it is incomprehensible, and i know it will break me. my only hope is that i die first.
*****************HUGS********************* My heart dog will be two in March and has already had a few close calls. I think that dog lives to give me a heart attack. But I can't even come close to imagining my life without her little whuffy puppy breaths at night, curled up next to me. The good news is that that may not be for another 12 years. She is healthy, fit and active, but it doesn't stop me from picturing her with grey around her muzzle.
Look at it this way - Tonka and Mattie are together. She's not up there alone. Hugs to you, again. ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
Proud member of the COTH Junior (and Junior-at-Heart!) clique!
I stood by your bed last night; I came to have a peep.
I could see that you were crying you found it hard to sleep.
I whined to you softly as you brushed away a tear,
"It's me, I haven't left you, I'm well, I'm fine, I'm here."
I was close to you at breakfast, I watched you pour the tea,
You were thinking of the many times, your hands reached down to me.
I was with you at the shops today; your arms were getting sore.
I longed to take your parcels, I wish I could do more.
I was with you at my grave today; you tend it with such care.
I want to re-assure you, that I'm not lying there.
I walked with you towards the house, as you fumbled for your key.
I gently put my paw on you; I smiled and said, "it's me."
You looked so very tired, and sank into a chair.
I tried so hard to let you know, that I was standing there.
It's possible for me, to be so near you everyday.
To say to you with certainty, "I never went away."
You sat there very quietly, then smiled, I think you knew...
in the stillness of that evening, I was very close to you.
The day is over... I smile and watch you yawning
and say "good-night, God bless, I'll see you in the morning."
And when the time is right for you to cross the brief divide,
I'll rush across to greet you and we'll stand, side by side.
I have so many things to show you, there is so much for you to see.
Be patient, live your journey out...then come home to be with me.
- Author Unknown
what scares me most of all is that i won't recognize the Moment when it is time to euthanize Daisy. i'm terrified that i will cause her to suffer because i cannot imagine life without her. it is something that never leaves my subconscious, lurking there.
You will know, believe me. I took to heart something I had read here on the COTH years ago, "Better a day too soon than a moment too late."
Tonka still had the light in her eyes the day she left. She had a nice walk and was smiling and waggy tail til the end. I know the pain from the tumor and her full bladder hadn't really started to hit yet but I didn't want to wait until it did.
You love Daisy and when it comes time, you will prove that love by doing what is best for her, even when it doesn't feel best for you....
sadly time is the only thing that really works, we lost our dear Whiskey last fall, we tried so hard to diagnose and treat him but in the end the only thing was to ease him out of his discomfort, he was not in great pain and I hold on to that, however he had started to want to give up and no longer wanted to go for walks and sleep on the bed
also for me, I ate whatever I wanted that week and didn't feel a bit of guilt, I also spoiled him with burgers and steak, he loved it
we did get a puppy to help fill the void, but Remy will never replace Whiskey, and neither will Kahlua, Remy's buddy
I still feel jiped that we only got 9 years, he should have lived longer he was in great health till he suddenly wasn't
***hugs*** to you. Know that you are not alone. For those of us that have been lucky and blessed enough to have such wonderful friends the loss is nothing short of devastating. I struggled very much when I lost my soul mate girl (and still do!) but I think we have to accept that this is part of what comes from loving someone so deeply. Losing them is going to be immensely painful. But time will heal and allow you to reflect on, and be grateful for, all the beautiful times you shared together without feeling that terrible pain in your heart.
I am so very sorry. I cried daily for two years. I wore big sunglasses a lot. I remember going to the hairdresser (Bisous used to go with me) and being simply unable to stop crying. I understand how you feel.
Part of it is the shock. You thought UTI, it ended on the other side of the spectrum. Perhaps some counseling would help. I think you are probably traumatized by that aspect of it. I know I was. I can accept an expected and planned death much better.
Please be kind to yourself and do what you need to for yourself.
"Kindness is free" ~ Eurofoal
--- The CoTH CYA - please consult w/your veterinarian under any and all circumstances.
Thank you. My heart literally still hurts. And I'm sorry for your loss too. This pain blows.
I have thought about going to counseling because I know I'm feeling some things that I "shouldn't" be. Like I feel so incredibly guilty. I feel like I betrayed her; that I couldn't fix her. And yet I KNOW in my HEAD that I did the right thing for her, but my heart just feels so heavy.
That February day, the vet came to my house and right before we put her down, I sat down on the floor and put my arms out and she came over all waggy tail, kissing my face and I gave her a huge hug. I worry that she was confused or scared, and I regret that I didn't take just a few more minutes to say goodbye and make sure she was ok.
On 7/19/12 it will be three years since my beloved heartdog left this world....and I still can't talk about her without dissolving into tears. I always imagined that she'd live to a ripe, old age and then I'd be able to hold her in my arms as we helped her over the Bridge. As it turns out, she was 10 and died suddenly and unexpectedly overnight at my vet's while I was on vacation.
You know, people who just don't get "it" actually laugh at the term "heart-dog." Those of us who get it, understand that it's because they grab onto our hearts and never let go...even when they're gone.
I'm so very sorry for your loss. I'm not sure how, but we do get through life without them, day after day. But the grief is always there to an extent when we love something as much as we love our animals.
Good luck with the rescue! Your next soul is out there looking for you, and I hope you find each other soon!
“Riding a horse is not a gentle hobby, to be picked up and laid down like a game of Solitaire. It is a grand passion.” ~Emerson