another sad goodbye

August 16, 2014 | Comments Off

I am swimming in sadness and loss, and it’s not getting any easier, not that I really expect it to. People never really get over losing their children, do they? And my furbabies are my children, so I am just lost whenever one of them gets sick and dies. It’s as if my heart has been ripped from my body, and I know I’ll never feel whole again. There was spacing between Becca’s death and Kip’s death, but I’ve been hit with three losses in just two years now, and it is so hard to understand why these little babies have to even ever get sick to begin with. It just doesn’t make sense. I feel Becca’s spirit now like a big arched rainbow with Kip, Eva, and now Spenser tucked under her.

So to pick up where I had left off which I’d rather not go back and reread, I think I had said that we were going to wait until the next day to take Spenser to the emergency vet if he hadn’t started eating or keeping water down regularly. Unfortunately, we didn’t have the option of waiting until the next day because he started breathing very heavily. The moment that happened, we immediately put him into Mark’s Xterra, and I sat with him in the back as Mark drove. Then Spenser periodically would scream out as if he were in pain, and it was the most frightening thing ever. Mark became a very distracted driver because he was just so very scared at the sounds. Spenser was very uncomfortable and kept falling down. He didn’t want to lay down. I kept pulling him to me which seemed to be okay to him. Once we got to the emergency vet, they grabbed him out of Mark’s arms to examine him and take scans.

I was continually super annoyed at how slow-moving everyone there seemed to be. The waiting was painful. We were finally told he was in bad shape. His lungs once again had filled up with fluid. Over the years he had two hospital stays for this issue, and that’s why he had been taking Viagra. The vet was also throwing around terms like cancer, heart failure, stroke, and poor prognosis. She also believed he had experienced a stroke on our trip there by the way he was acting, which I believe I know exactly when it happened. Our once-vibrant dog didn’t seem to know who we were or where he was, plus he was very distressed. Initially Mark wanted to hospitalize him again. Something seemed very different about this to me, since he was screaming in pain and didn’t know who we were. In the end, we both agreed that it wasn’t fair to hospitalize him again at his age (16.5 years-old), so we put him to sleep. And, of course, because I beat myself up regarding every pet decision I make, I don’t know if it was the right one. When they brought him out to us so we could say goodbye to him, he was so, so distressed and uncomfortable. He was still crying in pain periodically as well. It was heartbreaking, and I still don’t understand why they only put him in oxygen and didn’t give him anything for that. I’m hoping that when he was in the tank that he was better. When they put him to sleep, he curled right up into a little ball, and he looked just like he was sleeping, like how he usually slept at home, like he was peaceful and comfortable once again.

I thought I had been preparing myself a bit for Spenser’s death because his old age was easier to see than the cats, but you can never really prepare for something like this. I mean, he needed help going up and down the stairs and then finally he needed carried up and down them, so things like that weighed on my brain. But he always seemed invincible too. He was so tough. He beat so many illnesses and hospital stays. We joked he was the cat of the family with his nine lives. Mark and I moved in together in December and we got Spenser that March, so he was a part of our entire marriage. Though he may have changed a bit as he grew older, like when the brown in his cheeks grew white, he always, always was the best beagle boy! He was always stubborn, always cute, and always kind to his siblings. Not hearing his nails on the hardwoods now is so strange. I’m going to miss how excited he was to go for walks (so much so that we’d have to spell out the word if we were planning to take him for one later in a day), how he’d groan during massages, how he’d inhale everything but pretzels, how he knew his billions of nicknames, how he’d really prefer women over men, and how he just loved his interactive treat dispensing toys in his older years. He took a lot of medicine twice a day, would bark at us for food since we never properly trained him, and never let us sit through a movie without wanting or needing something. Was he sometimes a pain in the butt? Sure, but I’d do it all over again for him in a heartbeat! The last few months one of my favorite parts of the day was when Mark would lift Spenser onto the bed so we could both cuddle with him right before I’d fall asleep. Every single day without fail we’d both agree that he was getting cuter and cuter with each passing day. One look into those brown eyes, and I’d give him whatever he wanted. Mark would always yell at me to not give him so many biscuits, but come on! How could I say no to him? One of my favorite memories of him was when he was getting discharged after his first hospital stay. He came around the corner with a vet tech. Once he saw me, he started moving faster and his tail started wagging. We were both so happy to see each other. I really wish we could have had that kind of experience this time around, and the “what if” guilt of it all eats away at me. I hope now that he’s at peace again that he knows how much I loved and adored him and that I cherished all the years we got to spend together. I really regret how later in life my back pain prevented me from picking him up often and rough housing with him as much as I once did, and I hope he forgives me for that. I’m glad he’s with Becca, Kip, and Eva now. He will have so much fun with them.

We’ll miss you always, puppy. Always.

Valentine's Day 2014



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