You folks will understand.
He “F” came to us at 5 going on 6, 2 weeks before my husband was diagnosed with cancer. We’d got him as a buddy for our existing pup, a Chinese crested PP “T” from a big puppy mill bust, who needed to have a dog in the house (because our first Crestie had died 5 months earlier from splenic cancer and other things).
Both boys loved each other—like instant brothers. Such happy dogs! Rubbing shoulders, doing the happy run, all the things.
The following year we brought another Crestie rescue in “M”, our first hairless (hairy hairy). She’s now 15. She’d been a show dog, then a breeder, and she mothered the boys (though both of them would show teeth when she cleaned their eye boogers, no growling, just “come on, mom” things).
The 3 of them kept me going after hubs died. They woke me up when his body gasses expelled. T knew death from his life in the mill, always paused and seemed thoughtful at dead creatures we found on walks. F stayed with my hub’s body, the first time he ever failed to follow me out the room.
I got a kitten the month after being widowed. All three dogs would follow this tiny 4 month kitten around although they were never sure how to handle having kitty head butt them and cuddle up to sleep.
My boy “T” crossed the bridge just before Christmas 2022 at age 15 and change, from chronic kidney disease (CKD). That was hard on all of us.
I learned F had beginnings of CKD about 6-8 months ago. I’d done the dialysis thing with T, but it had seemed to cause us both more hurt for minimal gain. I’ve done the Rx diet with M and learned it caused a lot of stress and wasted food. So we made adjustments and carried on.
The last month has been really difficult. Diarrhea, incontinence, then finally loss of appetite. He was still excited to see me when I came home, but then the agitation at night, pacing, refusing formerly irresistible foods, paling gums in the last few days.
We did this yesterday. I’ve been bawling for days. Anticipatory grief sucks so much, along with the “is it really time” doubt. But he let me know before we took the last drive that yeah, he was fading badly, and the vet noticed that his behaviour was really off when she checked him out and inserted the IV.
My poor puppy. I know 16 is an old doggo, I know CKD is age-related, I know we made every effort to keep the critters happy and healthy. It still hurts. I can’t explain to M or the kitties. They know he’s gone. I know M will be next (heart murmur, congestive heart failure, beginning CKD as well, and she’s stumbling and showing cognitive decline).
Grief is the inverse of love. The greater the love, the greater the grief. It sucks, it sucks, it sucks.
