Trying to recover from the worst year of my life

[wufangclan97]

2020 was by far the worst year of my life. It wasn't just cause of the Covid stuff. In total, I lost 3 pets and a good human friend that year. It started with my germen shepherd, Amy. She died near the beginning of the year. She was old and sick, so I was somewhat prepared for her passing. It was still hard. I already struggled with depression before she passed, so I blamed myself for her passing for whatever reason. I wished I could have done something more to prolong her life, though in reality nothing could be done. 

I was still upset with the loss and didn't have any pets of my own anymore, save for a gecko named Lucio who I'll talk more about later. I wanted a pet I could cuddle and play with. So I got a corgi puppy named Zwei. I poured all my loss and hurt over Amy into him, and he helped me heal from her passing. He was my baby. I loved him so much. He had some aggression issues with other dogs, so I was taking him to training classes. My family, the vet, and the dog trainer all recommended him getting neutered to help calm him down. All our dogs and cats my family has ever owned have been neutered or spayed.

In the middle of all this, a friend who I met online playing video games passed away. We had only met once in real life, during a friend's wedding we were invited to. But he meant a lot to me. He helped me learn how to play the game and I spent a lot of evenings talking and joking with him. I kind of had a crush on him. I thought maybe one day I'd get the courage to ask him out. But he was diabetic, and a mutual friend told me he had been hospitalized. I don't remember all the details, but he eventually went into a diabetic coma. After a week, his parents decided to pull the plug on him, as he was practically brain-dead. Our mutual friend told me he had passed. I cried for weeks. And I couldn't go to the funeral as he was in another state, and his family didn't want anyone except family members to attend his funeral, because of covid. I never got to say goodbye.

Zwei helped me cope through this loss too. I even had a mental breakdown that I recovered from because I didn't want to die and leave him alone. Despite the suicidal thoughts, I knew I had to stay because Zwei needed me and I loved him too much to leave him.

So I got him neutered to help with the aggression. 2 days after the surgery, he started seizing on the floor. I called the vet's office who did the surgery and asked what to do as I was panicking. They told me the vet couldn't see him right now and to make an appointment for later that day. I kept telling the lady on the phone that he was seizing right now and it was an emergency. She said to take a video of him seizing so it can be viewed later. I can still remember how uncaring and unreactive she was on the phone. I ended up hanging up and racing my Zwei to another vet office in the town. That office immediately sprung into action and rushed him into the back for the vets to treat. 

Despite how fast we (my father was with me) got him to that vet, he didn't make it. He died back there. They weren't sure how he died. They assumed it was either an allergic reaction to putting him under from the surgery, or a blood clot from the surgery reaching his brain. They said we could take him to Kansas City for them to do an autopsy on him to see what caused his death. We didn't do it. It didn't matter how he died. My baby was dead. One of my only reasons to live was gone. I cried and screamed in the vet's office. They had to close all the doors because people could hear me out in the lobby. They brought him back for me to say goodbye to. I cradled him and cried over him until no more tears could come out. Eventually I gave him back to the vet and went home with my father. 

What the consensus was, there's always a risk when putting dogs under. It's the same with people. Whenever you're put under, there's a 1 in 100 risk you don't wake up, or have a severe reaction. That's what happened to Zwei. He was that 1 in 100.

As soon as we got home, my parents took away all my pills and locked the medicine cabinet up. It was smart that they did that, because I wanted to die. I wanted to die and be with my Zwei in death. My parents had me on suicide watch for a month after that. I hated God, the world, fate; whatever force in the world that took him away from me. What did I do to deserve all this loss? I've always tried my best to be a good person. I felt like I was being punished for something, though I don't know what. I blamed myself. If I hadn't gotten him fixed, this never would have happened. I hated myself. With my dog Amy's death, she had been going downhill for the past year. I was somewhat expecting it. Somewhat prepared. With Zwei, I wasn't. I was planning on living my life with him for years. Maybe even getting married or having kids with Zwei by my side. I only had Zwei for 6 months.

The second vet office was very sympathetic, and they sent me a card signed by all the staff members. They got him cremated for us, and put into a box with his name on it. I have it in my apartment on a shelf, surrounded by his favorite toys, his leash, and his bowls. I don't like anybody touching his stuff except me. It makes me upset.

The first vet office that did the surgery called the next day. The owner/vet apologized profusely for what happened with the lady on the phone. Apparently she didn't even tell the vet that I had called or what was happening, so he had no idea until my mom called after Zwei died and yelled at them for what they did. I don't necessarily blame the vet for his death, but I haven't taken any of my family's animals there since.

All I had left of my own was Lucio, my gecko. It might not be fair to say this, but I didn't have as much love and emotion put into him. He was just a cool pet I took care of and petted sometimes. I moved out of my parents place, and moved with him into my own place. I think the move stressed him out too much, because he stopped eating shortly after the move. I couldn't get him to eat and he started to slim down and wither away. I took him to a vet and they gave me some fluids to give him with a syringe to get his weight up. The next morning after the vet visit, he was dead. I wasn't as upset with his death. I was already numb from the loss of Zwei. Just another soft blow to my heart. 

Eventually, my parents got me another dog during Christmas time. His name is Indiana Jones and I love him a lot. But I'm still having trouble finding the will to live without Zwei. Anytime I see a corgi, even if it's not the same colors as him, I breakdown. I start crying in public, work, at home, wherever. It's been a year now, and the pain still feels just as fresh. I feel so broken and on the verge of giving up. Like a mirror that cracked and missing pieces and is barely keeping in one piece. I feel like one more hit, and I'll shatter and really go through with suicide. 

[KayC]

I found myself holding my breath as I read your story.  OMG, so many hits!  I am so sorry!!!!

6/6/19 I took my soulmate in a dog, Arlie, to the vet for a routine dental cleaning.  The next day they called with a death sentence.  He had inoperable cancer, his liver was shut down.  How could this be, I'd just gotten a clean bill of health at his physical two weeks earlier!  He was my LIFE!!!  Over the next two months, ten days, I provided hospice care for him, giving him supplements to help him function, short gentle walks, one last ride in his truck (I haven't driven it since except to start it up once a month and drive it around the street to keep the fluids moving).  It was HIS truck!  I took him to another vet to have him euthanized 8/16/19, and they botched it.  Their scale was way off so they under-anesthetized him, resulting in his going out in extreme pain.  The look on his face will haunt me the rest of my life.  I would not have known why it happened except 4 1/2 months later I took my 25 year old Kitty in to be anesthetized and my friend got on the scale and exclaimed it said 127 when she weighed 139 at her doctor's just two days before!  Then I knew what happened to Arlie.

Then Covid hit, with it any social life, everyone withdrawn, no one calls any more, it's all alone time.  Financial hits.  Two hit and runs on my car right before my surgery so I couldn't file or deal with it...I'd gotten two severe injuries to my  hands walking the neighbor's chow, resulting in permanent damage, pain, numbness, severe loss of strength..  Surgery made it worse.

My son brought me Kodie, a little puppy, he also has been cathartic to my broken heart.  Twice he's been attacked, the second time was bad, and definitely one of the worst moments of my life!  We were lucky, he survived but it damaged his innocent view of the world, now I have to carry Halt spray with me wherever we go.

How do we survive such loss?  I already lost my sweet husband 16 years ago!  Wasn't that enough?  I've lost 24 dogs and cats over the years.  Friends, parents, grandparents, sister, niece, nephew, the list goes on and on.  How much loss can one survive?!

I'm glad you have Indiana with you and I hope in time your heart begins to heal.  Arlie and Kitty are in the back yard along with my husband's ashes, and my granddoggy Skye who lived with me, Lucky, Miss Mocha...my (grown) kids call it the family burial plot.  It's where I want my ashes to be someday. 

Pictures of Arlie, Kitty, Kodie when I got him.  BTW, Corgis are wonderful!  I'd wanted one but none to be found when I was looking.  Arlie was Husky/Golden Retriever, and Kodie is Klee Kai.

It helped me to write about my Arlie and Kitty (links here): 
Memories of Arlie
Memories of Kitty

and our cancer journey:
Living with Loss - Loss of a Pet

I hope this short video brings you some comfort and peace...