Today is her day

[Michael H]

How I feel.

 

Right now, I feel pretty fucking shitty. I had to make a decision which hurt like a pain I’ve never known. The tears keep rolling down my face, uncontrollable sobs because my best friend of nearly 14 years is at a stage where I have had to decide whether or not to end her life.

It seems that black and white. End her life. I would never, ever harm or injure an animal – far from it – and so euthanasia, whilst publicised as a soothing and pain-free relief to suffering, is still one of the hardest decisions I have ever had to make.

I first got Jazz from a  run down house on a council estate in 2005 – she cost me £150. She was the runt that no one wanted – except I did – and from the first moment I saw her, it was blissful true love. She was so naughty as a puppy. She chewed everything, she piddled on the floor (of course) and demanded only the best food money could buy.

As her daddy, I have gone out of my way to ensure she has the finest things in life. And everyone of those 14 years has been filled with love, affection, warmth and cuddles. She’s never been hungry, sad (though my actions, but me going out for the night is her version of sad). She’s touched so many lives over the years, everyone who has met her has fallen in love with her. She adored her Grandad, and I’m sure she noticed he wasn’t there when he passed over.

Now the time has come for her to join him. I can’t reach a feeling inside me that tells me this is the right thing to do. The emotions I feel inside are black, dark and overwhelming. I have no idea what I’m doing, or what it is I am meant to be doing. Every fibre of my body is screaming to ring the vets and ask them to not come out and perform this procedure – it’s wrong, she’s wagging her tail a bit, she seems better. Every movement, every sign, every indicator I see triggers a doubt in my head. It sets off another episode of crying. I feel weak, I feel that I haven’t done enough, despite the numerous visits to the vets in the last three weeks.

The future looks bleak. I don’t know how I will cope without her. She completes me, we’ve been known as a duo for so long. And she’s always been there whenever I’ve come home, whether it’s from holiday or whether it’s from simply a day out when she’s stayed with her Nan. She’s accompanied me everywhere, she’s always had to be the centre of attention, and she’s fussed. She used to jump on when I was asleep for extra cuddles – hardly stealth like consider she was the biggest fidget in the entire world – and simply lay on her back expecting a belly rub.

When she’s gone, I will be a half. The other half can’t be filled – not by a person, not by another dog, but it will simply remain black and empty. There is no replacement, there is simply nothing which can fill the void which will remain in my heart, and my soul. The rainbow bridge is a lovely thought, but she’d hate it because I won’t be there. I’m scared she’ll be lonely, and scared that she’ll miss me, despite what might be waiting for her.

I don’t want her to go. A lot of this is what I want. What does she want? I don’t know. She can’t say. My selfishness knows no bounds, and I would trade my entire life for one more day with her. But that one day could be one of more pain, suffering and indignity. To end that, the trade off is for me to feel the pain of losing her. The pain of losing her is a reminder of how much I loved her, which seems the most ironic thing in this world right now. How can something which you love, which is so ingrained into your life and your world, cause so much pain? Despite the circumstances.

I’ve searched for people who have grieved and wanted re-assurance that they got through it. I’m not sure I’m strong enough to cope. My heart is broken and there isn’t enough air in the world for me to continue breathing. When these things happen to everyone else, I’m upset but objective and never once questioned whether or not someone has made the wrong decision. I’m pretty sure if this was someone else, I would be telling them that it’s hard but the kindest thing to do. But my overriding feeling is one of guilt. But I’ve done everything I possibly can to avoid this situation – there is more that can be done such as scans, tests and medicine, but I think I know deep down that I would have to continue watching her suffer to get those done – only to possibly arrive at the same place but knowing more. Would that make it easier? Maybe. But then I’ve done something. This feels like I am giving up too easy, putting my dog to sleep is the easy way out. I’m such a ****. I’m a bad person. She deserves unlimited money put towards her health. But the scan could reveal more complications for which there is no coming back, only temporary reprieve. And that comes with drawbacks – quality of life being the first one.

I look back and think about her life – the best beds, the best foods, the long country walks, the hours we spent throwing a ball and she loved nothing more than to then chew it, before bringing it back in a state. We walked together, we talked together and she cried with me when my heart was broken. Anyone who came into my life and didn’t put her towards me was swiftly out the door again.  She came first, every decision as an adult that I made, she was at the top of it. It didn’t matter what it was, she was top of the list.

And now she needs me to put her first again. She needs me to rescue her from the illness she has, and the fact that she’s tired, grey, old and worn out. Things are not working like they should do. Her once youthful body has started to do different things than she wants them to do. She’s not herself, and hasn’t been for a little whilst. There was hope, but in the last week she’s gone rapidly downhill despite everything we have thrown at her – pain relief, steroids, anti-inflammatories. Nothing has broken the pain cycle and caused her to exhibit any improvement. But she could if we waited and continued, says the voice in my head. Which brings back the tears, the doubt, the absolute agony that renders me a sobbing, useless human being. But I know that everything we throw at her will just keep her going, not make her better.

So I sit here, typing away in an attempt to try and get some form of comfort that everything is going to be ok. Because I’m scared that it won’t. I’m scared it’s the wrong thing to do, I’m scared that I’m going to fall apart, I’m scared that I won’t be able to get up tomorrow and look after my other dog. Oh yes, there are two of the munchkins. I have to be strong for her, she’s been so patient whilst her sister has been unwell. But I feel guilt whichever one is being fussed over at any moment in time.

I can honestly sit here and say that owning a dog is the most life affirming, wonderful thing that I have ever done. Nothing has ever come close to the bond I share with her, and nothing ever will. I’ve had her since she was 8 weeks old, and I always knew this day would come. I just didn’t realise the pain that such love could cause me.

[KayC]

I'm sorry, your anguish is apparent, and I know that pain, been there too many times in my life, I'm 66 now and I've always had dogs and cats...it makes for a whole lot of losses by now.  The dog I have now is nearly 11 and I'm more attached to him than any I've had, partly because of having lost my husband 13 years ago and growing old alone.  My Arlie is my companion, my incentive, my reward, my everything.  And I know I'll face this in not too many years.  And Kitty, she is 23, need I say any more.

The hardest decision one can make is when/whether to euthanize.  What I've always used as criteria is 

1. Put their needs ahead of your own feelings.
2. Are they suffering?  If so, how great is it and does it overshadow any quality of life?  I think we know when it's the right time.  
3. If you're still uncertain if it's right, right now, consult with your vet, discuss your concerns, get their input.  They can give it to you from a medical standpoint that isn't clouded with emotion.  Sometimes we put off what we shouldn't, because of our own desires.
4. Rest assured that life on the other side is free from grief, pain, worry, anxiety.  Here we are bound by our physical, but there things are perfected.  Your Jazz will be happy and not scared.  Time is no more there and her sense of waiting for you isn't at all like waiting here, it will be fun-filled and you will be there in the blink of an eye to her.  But she does need to know you'll be okay.  Muster your most bravery the day it happens so you don't project your anxiety onto her.  She'll be very in tune with you and needs to feel your reassurance.

I can tell you my son waited too long to euthanize his dog, Skye.  I'm Skye's grandma, and I loved him like he was my own, he lived with me half his life and I adored him, there was a special bond with him that is unique from any bond with others.  Skye had medical issues, he was about nine, we weren't sure exactly as my son was his third owner.  Skye had Colitis throughout his life (as my Arlie does) and became crippled, his front paws turned under so that he could no longer walk.  Still he was happy happy, always.  My son had custom tennis shoes made for him so when he feet dragged it wouldn't hurt his paws.  He made him a walker but it was hard for Skye to maneuver with his back feet...walkers are usually used by dogs with good front paws and bad back ones.  Then we got him a wagon that fit him perfectly, so we could take him on "walks".  He was a small 50 lb Siberian Husky.  My dog got to 140 (Husky/Golden Retriever) and after I started cooking for him he got to goal weight of 110.  One day my son came out of Costco and found Skye in the back of his Baja, covered in blood and I can't even begin to imagine the pain he was in.  It's hard to think about.  He had a rectal tumor that burst.  He rushed him to the nearest emergency vet (it was a Sunday) and had him euthanized asap.  We had been talking to him about needing to do it for a couple of weeks.  My son will always wished he hadn't hung on because of it being hard to let go of him...yet it truly IS hard to let go!  When I had my Lucky (whippet) euthanized, I hadn't seen her smile for a couple of years, her back leg was giving out on her, and when she started whimpering in her sleep I decided it was time.  Her arthritis was painful and I didn't want her to suffer to death.  Yes I could have kept her alive a few more months, but at what expense to her?

Every animal's health and situation is different, and you know your dog best.  Talk to her vet, look inside your heart, and if you're a praying man, pray about it, you'll know what is best for her.  And don't look back and second guess your decision...it's easy to do, we so wish for a different outcome, but know you're doing what is best for HER.  

You have all of us here rooting for you, rooting for her, I know it's hard.  The hardest decision of your life probably.  My heart goes out to you, it's the decision we all hate.

http://www.griefhealingblog.com/2017/09/pet-euthanasia-when-is-it-time-to-say.html

[AJWCat]

Ugh this moment is so horrible. My heart breaks for you too Michael.

I lost my last cat to an awful illness - suddenly/unplanned but with my two other cats years earlier I had to make the call/. I had to decide and I hated being the one. I knew it was coming but finally each cat had a day when I knew, enough was enough. Each cat as the time came (they went a year apart) was existing for me (because I wanted them there) and not because they were healthy and enjoying life.

When you do finally part with sweet Jazz, I hope you return. You might need to write more and get out your thoughts and emotions again. We understand uniquely your bond and what you are dealing with more than most people. So so sorry.  

[emma12]

Hello Michael i know how devastating is the situation you are dealing with and that you constantly thinking what is the best thing to do...as my vet told me the decision is something personal...of course you should consider her quality of life but at the end the decision is personal..Listen to your heart and no matter what you decide you will have made the right choice..

[Michael H]

Her day came and it was as peaceful as people told me it would be. The clock counted down the hours until the vet arrived and she slipped away painlessly in my arms. I’ve never known pain like it, which gave way to the biggest void I can describe.

But I’m grateful there is no pain, and not suffering any longer. When the vet arrived, she said that more tests would probably reveal something else, but the long term prognosis would be poor. I couldn’t bear to wake up yesterday and carry her out for a wee again, then carry her back in only for her to lay on her bed until it was time to go to bed. The friend I had was always so full of life, and she was just tired and uninterested in life around me. She couldn’t walk on that day, every step was agony but she fought it to come over for a stroke and quick kiss.

i kissed her head and told her I loved her so much and that I would never ever stop loving her and repeated it over and over until she crossed over, so the last words she heard from me were that she was loved and I would always be here for her and one day, I’d see her again and we’d lay down and play with her loved squeaky tennis ball. She was taken away, cremated and I brought her home 18 hours later and now I have her back with me. A short time, but I didn’t want her lying in a cold, dark freezer alone any longer than was possible.

i have amazing friends who know me and knew her, and through hours of talking, crying, reasoning and some expensive wine, I have built some form of early peace around the situation. I have arrived at a very very early stage of peace, and there is a huge amount of grieving to do. Friday night, I would have made a deal with the devil himself for one more minute but it would never be enough. I would want another minute, then another and then another. But not having her there to touch, to smell, to kiss drove me to a dark, dark place that I struggled to believe.

For now, I have found a place that’s hard, gloomy and weighs heavy in my heart, but it has allowed me to wake up, get dressed and get through the day and for that I am truly grateful.

i have to because I start my new job tomorrow. What timing! But the amazing thing is that I had 3 weeks off between jobs and she was diagnosed on my last day of my old job. So I had 3 amazing weeks where we went the park, she had all the treats and biscuits she could ever wants and the most amazing amount of cuddles! Oh so many cuddles and kisses! How it worked to have that time off and nothing to do but lie with her, walk her and cuddle her I don’t know. She was mostly fine up until the last few days when she rapidly went downhill overnight and never got better.

My remaining dog is searching and crying for her and I am helpless to explain what’s happened. Despite her new toys and a free pass to do whatever she likes, she sits and stares at the ashes and sighs heavily. She misses her sister, just as much as we do.

now the process of rebuilding a different and new life begins - quicker than I would like but fate works im mysterious ways. she was diagnosed the day I stated my 3 week break, and decided to depart just as it finished. The walks in the park, the daytime cuddles, the nighttime cuddles were all freely available all day and night and we were both so lucky to have that precious time without me having to leave or go to work.

i went to the shops today to purchase some new work clothes and I was hit with guilt that I was buying clothes she’d never see or get dirty. I lit a new candle she’d never get to smell. I ate a dinner that she would have had the scraps from. Her deluxe bed remains with her scent at the end of my bed. Her harness and food bowl st in the cupboard, ready for when I am strong enough to look at them again.

before the cremation, I had a foot imprint taken onto a laminate card so I have a memory which is so simple yet so perfect. Her urn is beautiful and is in a place where you can see it from anywhere in the downstairs of the house. Friends have sent cards, and shared their memories and photos on facebook. It’s beautiful and warming to see so many people touched by her love and her spirit. But it also hurts because she’s not here.

somehow I have to get up tomorrow and walk into a new office with new people and pretend I am delighted to be given the opportunity to be there as their new boss. I can’t walk in and announce my life changed 72 hours before, as my best friend of 14 years passed over. It’s still very much a taboo here (in the UK) that many people do not understand pet bereavement. I do, and as a boss I have always excercised discretion and for me it’s the biggest show of gratitude I have for my staff if they ever need it. Anyone who argues against it should never own a pet, but the option is there for them if they need it. I believe we all have grief and we all need personal Time to build some form of support structure before we can be ready to continue. Like a pause button just to get our heads around what has just happened.

my friends and family have been brilliant and aren’t judging me because they know that I owned my princess for longer than most marriages and relationships exist! I cared and pampered her from 8 weeks to 14 years and my life was a better one with her in it. But tomorrow, I just start a new chapter where I come home but can’t tell her who is nice and who might be difficult and what should I do about that irritating one who I instantly didn’t connect with in the office ! But I will talk to her and I will tell her, because I want to and because I always have. 

Her tired body may have left us, but my memories and my love for her are stronger than ever before and help me to wake up and face another dark and dreary day.

sounds so awful when I have another dog, but they were very different despite looking identical and being the same breed! I love them both, but she was my baby and she idolised me, and the other is much more attached to my partner. Together, we both cry and laugh and then cry some more but the emptiness still fills the house like an ever present dark cloud; filled with memories, doubts, guilt and disbelief. My hope is that, in time, these bring more happy memories than they do dark thoughts

 

[KayC]

17 hours ago, Michael H said:

i went to the shops today to purchase some new work clothes and I was hit with guilt that I was buying clothes she’d never see or get dirty. I lit a new candle she’d never get to smell. I ate a dinner that she would have had the scraps from.

Those are the things that hit us and is so hard.

Even here a lot of people don't understand pet bereavement, our culture has a long way to go.  I think animal people get it but those who have never had that closeness to one will never get it.

When my husband died, my dog Lucky grieved heavily.  She was very well trained and obedient but she began acting out, it was a way of getting out her feelings.  Once my daughter pointed out to me what was going on (I was in a grief fog), I gave her more attention and that helped.  Here's an article that might be of help: 

https://www.griefhealingblog.com/2018/06/pet-loss-supporting-your-grieving-pet.html

[Dee rite]

Hi Michael,

there are no words to say how sorry I am and how difficult this is.  Know you are t alone and she will never leave you and will be apart of you.

i am going through the same thing and I feel flat and depressed but this site is my saving grace right now,  I hope you find it the same 

hug

Dee