Red's Wrap
Happiness. It's relative.
99 New: Dog Grief
I’m having a hard time because my dog died yesterday.
We had a hand in his death. It’s not like he just expired peacefully in his little bed although we had been waiting for that to happen.
Our dog was flinty and tough. He was sturdy and sure of himself, a know-it-all in the dog world, a big dog in a small body, a tough little customer. Unless there was a storm, then my husband would fetch him from under our bed and sleep with his arm around him. There we would be through the night, the three of us spooned, my husband, BowWow, and me.
We’d made an appointment with the vet three times before but each time we cancelled. He looks better today, one of us would say, and we’d cancel the end of his life. But he’d soon sink again. Diabetes, blindness, weakness, his back legs failing would tell us it was time to let him go.
Yesterday, we made the appointment and kept it, though our equivocation lasted the duration of the car ride to the vet. Sitting with BowWow on my lap, part of me wanted to escape with my dog, just keep driving north or west, get away from the end of his life, go back to when we traveled across the west with him in the back seat, when we could all be buckaroos, free as you please.
The nice vet lady was waiting for us at the vet’s back door, she held the door open as soon as we were out of our truck, apparently not wanting us to suffer the pain of sitting in the waiting room with healthy dogs, dogs with their whole lives ahead of them. And so we slunk in with our sick passenger and went to Room #5 where she’d directed us and, yes, they were ready for us.
There was a thick towel spread on the examination table. A candle had been lit and was burning softly. We sat down and waited, BowWow laying between us, like he so often had. He was shaking but he always shook at the vet’s. Finally, the vet came in and the process commenced. I held BowWow while my husband stroked his head and the vet did her work. I leaned over to look into BowWow’s eyes but his eyes were clouded over from his cataracts which I knew they would be but I looked anyway.
“He’s gone,” my husband said. And he was. BowWow’s head had dropped on my arm just seconds before. I looked again at his eyes, they were open, but still clouded. The vet listened to his heart with her stethoscope and confirmed it, “Yes, he’s gone.” And I missed him in that moment as much as I have ever missed anyone.
The vet told us to stay as long as we wanted, no hurry, just turn the light out when you leave, and so we stayed a while and petted our dead dog. Finally, I kissed our little BowWow’s head and we left, turning out the light, and then running to our truck in the driving rain. We drove home, windshield wipers flapping, BowWow’s collar on the console between us. I can’t believe we left him there, I thought. I can’t believe it.
16 Comments on “99 New: Dog Grief”
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Hi, I’m so sorry for your loss and I understand how painful it was because last month our dog died also because he was diagnosed with kidney failure. After his pet cremation Chantilly, The hope is that there will be a sense of peace and understanding at some point and time. This may be experienced in fleeting moments rather than in an arrival at a destination, however.For me, Charry’s death overshadowed any other event occurring in the world. My Charry had died. Nothing else mattered to me. I crafted my coping strategy selfishly without concern for the feelings or needs of anyone else. Please refer to this link: https://thepetlosscenter.com/our-locations/chantilly/
I remember all of them. A whole lifetime of dogs coming as puppies, then getting old. And another dog or two or three. And they all get old. I share your pain. I’m not sure it ever goes away completely, but time makes it easier and a new pup definitely helps after the first grief is over.
I am so very sorry you had to say goodbye to your sweet companion. You gave him a beautiful good bye. He was with his two favorite people. Snuggled in the comfort of your arms and feeling the loving strokes of your husband. He died feeling all that love! Perfect!
I’m so sorry to hear this, Jan. Knowing its inevitability doesn’t make the loss any lighter. And even as a non-pet owner, that last line…”I can believe we left him there” broke my heart.
Tears and hugs; I remember only too clearly how desolate this feels. Bow Wow was such a lucky boy to have wonderful people like you.
Oh, Jan. I am so sorry. Mine is our furry angel and I can’t imagine her not being around. I am sending you a hug through the ether.
I have tears in my eyes. Been there before and will be there again, even now with 2 young dogs ages 4 and 2, that day will come. I hope it’s a long time away, but you never know. I really hope the rainbow bridge is real, because the thought of all those precious, beloved lives waiting for me is a pretty wonderful comfort. I am so sorry for your loss, and I hope the day will come when you can bring another dog into your life.
I’m so sorry for the loss of your beloved companion. I know it’s of little comfort at this point, Jan, but I hope your grief is slowly replaced with the good memories over time.
So very sorry Jan.
My heart breaks for you both. We had to end our beloved dog Edgar’s life last Christmas and still find myself forgetting sometimes that he’s not in the back yard playing with our other dogs. I share your grief and loss and hope your pain diminishes in the days and weeks ahead. So sorry….
I’m so sorry. Our pets are family, and Bow Wow was lucky to be part of yours. Sending hugs and tears.
i am so sorry for your loss, bow wow was so lucky to know the love of you and your husband and knew he was a part of your family. he was loved exactly as he was, and died peacefully in your arms, what more loving gift could you give? hugs – beth
I’m so sorry. I know this feeling well. I lost my old Abby in August. You always think they’ll pick the time and go softly, but of course they never do. I’m so sorry. There’s nothing that will make it better right now, but go read Mary Oliver’s The Sweetness of Dogs. Is Minnie doing okay?
Its an awful feeling isn’t it? I went through the same process with my beloved cat Chocolat in early January this year, and driving home – alone – with that aching void in your chest … You are fortunate to have such a sympathetic vet who handled a bad situation so sensitively . Definitely not the same in this country! Waiting room, usual clinical exam room, and no “take as long as you need”. In a way, briskness was better.
Things must be changing for the better in many animal hospitals. I just write about our experience of losing our beloved hound Sadie a few days ago. They put us in a comfort room with soft lighting and comfy furniture and a large soft blanket folded and cushioning the floor. I sat on the blanket loving and cradling her head and neck in my arms and she eased down gently into a peaceful passing. I’m past situations it had been more clinical and quick as in letsmget this painful process over with. And we were encouraged to take all the time we needed. It’s never easy to pick a time to say goodbye. I’m sorry.
Yes it is always hard, I have been through this, many of us have. Thinking of you in your grieving.