The Toughest Two Days....And Infinite Love Before, During, and After

My dogs are no longer here by my side...

We said goodbye to Daisy on March 6. She passed at home, in her bed, with the assistance of an in-home hospice vet with her family by her side. As the process began, she sat up, licked Claymore’s eyes (which she had done a million times before) as he began to lie down. She put her head on Claymore and he stayed with her until after she was gone. She had taken care of him since he joined our family—it was comforting to see him take care of her as she left this world.

Claymore was here with us almost exactly 48 more hours. He passed Monday with the assistance of the veterinarian who had cared for him (he had many health problems before cancer) for years. Though we were not at home, it was the first spring-like day here in Virginia and we were able to say goodbye outside in the sun. We used to call him Claymore Seeker of Sunlight.

Our hearts are shattered. I have felt physically sick and every part of my day feels completely wrong. They were the absolute best. I miss them more than words. I am so grateful they spent their lives with me. I am thankful for BARC, the rescue organization who helped them find us. My family needed them—I needed them—they needed each other. I will carry their love and lessons and laughter with me for the rest of my life. Everyone who knows their bond is not surprised that they left this world so close together. And, since they did, we requested a private cremation for them together...and they will be returned to us in a single velvet bag. (We have never had ashes returned to us before, but somehow this felt like the appropriate thing to do.) Our plan is, when we are ready, to take a trip in their honor. They lived all over the country with us. And we would like to return them to some of their favorite places, together, forever. Maybe I will right about that journey...

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I shared the posting below on my Facebook page on March 9. I still want a place to come back to, if I need help remembering (though I can't imagine I would ever forget) or to move forward with processing this overwhelming grief:

No words can even begin to do justice to how lucky I am or how much brighter my life is because Daisy and Claymore shared their lives with me. I want to tell their stories, of their adventures and all of the love. Of how they were the most bonded pair I could imagine AND two unique individuals—a yin and yang that fit perfectly together and completed our family. They loved their human family members as much as they loved each other. And we felt that every single day. And then, I realize, because of the outpouring of support, people DO know quite a bit of this. I find comfort in the fact that they made so many people smile and laugh and feel the love, whether they knew them through Facebook or in person. It is my hope that others will continue to be reminded of them, perhaps when they see pure unconditional love and friendship in any relationship, or any of their other unique characteristics that made them so amazing as individuals. To say one is “a Daisy to another’s Claymore” or “a Claymore to another’s Daisy,” (or a Daisy or a Claymore in their own right) in my opinion, would be the highest compliment among family, friends, or partners (or to an individual).

Saying I miss them so very, very much is an understatement to say the least. I read the quote below in a book recently and it resonates with me... I will take the pain—I only feel it because of the love...so much love. Maybe one day I will find my own words to better honor their lives. But that is beyond my abilities right now and it also seems an impossible task for a human to ever put into words the pure love, life, and joy they embodied. So for now I will thank you all for seeing them and loving them...and for being there for my family during this time. I believe their love was so infinite that the compassion we are being shown right now is my two best buddies still finding ways to spread that love to help me through these tough days.

“Moonlight beams through his eyelids and he can see, as if it’s the lake in front of him, the pain and loss he’s been swimming in for years. In the moonlight, though, the pain is revealed to be love. The emotions are entwined; they are the two sides of the same gleaming coin.”

From Dear Edward by Ann Napolitano

(Picture from February 2018, San Diego)

Grief and Goals

 

My dogs are dying.  (Yes, I know "we are all dying..." My dogs are terminally ill--with cancer that's rapidly advancing.)  It feels unbearable.  I could go on and on about how they are the most bonded pair I have ever met, how they were diagnosed with the same (rare) lung cancer exactly two weeks apart, the expenses and guilt of choosing palliative care for this senior pair, the rollercoaster of the past four months, the lack of sleep, the INTENSE anticipatory grief that won't let up and the fact I know the grief to come will be even worse, the fact that these dogs saw me through over a decade of military wife life as my constant companions in a world of chaos...  I realize that many people are struggling and I am fortunate to have so many privileges (like the financial ability to do all that I can for them and a flexible work schedule to spend time with them).  But these dogs are my family--they have pulled me through some tough times.  My time and energy have been dedicated to them in so many ways (especially recently) and my self-worth and comfort, I realize, are largely wrapped up in that bond.  I am so lucky their lives have been spent with me--we've had so many adventures and wonderful times.  I used to say the only time I was ever truly happy and in the moment was when I was walking my dogs.

All of this comes down to the fact that I hurt physically and mentally in a way I have never have before.  I have lost dogs before--dogs that I loved deeply.  I have never lost two dogs at essentially the same time, with a full-time demanding career, with huge family commitments, during a global pandemic where I have been isolated for a year.  People have suggested I journal about my feelings.  I don't like feelings/emotions--especially the ones that are so hard to feel.  But I do realize that I USED to write about my trials and tribulations with my pups.  I realize that I once found a blog about a dog who had the same disease as my Sampson, and reached out to the author who gave me some solidarity and support during that tough journey.  Maybe this will help me.  Maybe somehow in some way someone will find this and it can support them.  Or maybe I'm just rambling with no reason or purpose because I am so desperate.  Regardless, here I am--after a LONG hiatus from this virtual space.

I'm trying to figure out how I am ever going to make it through this still standing.  It seems impossible.  But I have a daughter (and husband, career, family, and friends)--so I have no choice other than to try--not just try, but stay "still standing."  I'm searching for any way for some GOOD to come from this tragedy.  I can't fathom how that is even possible, but I have to hold on to something to keep me putting one foot in front of the other and functioning on some level these days.  I am working on living in the lessons Daisy and Claymore have taught and continue to teach me, not the least of which are to live in the moment and love unconditionally.  I hope I can come out on the other side of this stronger somehow.

Speaking of strong, the one thing I have been making sure I do during this time is exercise.  I've always been dedicated to fitness, but it has taken on new meaning.  We got a Peloton last year (I may have joined a cult but that's for another post...) and back in December I committed to trying to do at least one activity every day for a year.  That doesn't mean I have to do a hard bike ride, but SOMETHING Peloton offers--even if it is a 5-minute stretch or meditation...something that forces me to focus on that goal at least once per day.  So far, I've kept it up.  Today, the weather was actually nice (after a ridiculous month of insane winter weather) so I went for a run in my neighborhood with the Peloton app.  I've been riding much more than running these days.  (I am now 40 and my knees and below often feel like I'm way older than that.)  But I thought about the fitness goals I have had before.  I wonder if I could run a half marathon again?  Not for speed or time or even in a formal race, but just to have a goal to help push me through this grief.  So, that's (maybe?) my goal...by my 41st birthday.  I'm putting it out there.  And I will try.  If I fail, I know I can do 13.1 miles on the bike.  I just hope I can make it through this seemingly unbearable time still standing...

Closure?

I've been trying to work up the guts to come back here...to say that I lost my best friend.  Yes, my best friend had 4 legs...and he's been my BEST friend through the thick and thin of the past decade.  I am so glad I have chronicled my relationship with my pups here on this blog.

Here is what I wrote on my Facebook page the day after I said goodbye...

We said our final goodbyes to Sampson last night.  Hardest thing I have ever had to do.  He was my BEST best friend over the past decade--better than I could ever have imagined when I picked up that little puppy nearly 10 years ago. I could write a dissertation-length eulogy, but the song I am posting (My Old Friend) says it better than I could right now.  So I will just say, while I have no peace and comfort now, I hope to find those by knowing his struggles are over and by remembering all of the love he received from and gave to so many others.  He taught me so much and will always be a part of me.  

"The love and the laughter, will live on long after, all of the sadness and the tears..."

Since then, I have worked through what I imagine are the stages of grief--intense anger and guilt (directed at myself), intense sorrow, and I've moved on to acceptance.  I accept that he is gone.  I accept that he lived a good life.  I accept that I did all I could.  What I can't accept, is that life really will be "okay" without him.  I'm still struggling to figure out my way and navigate adult life without my sidekick.  

I have since found comfort, as well.  Comfort from my friends and family, comfort from his medical team (yes, he had a team--a great one).  I have found peace knowing that his sweet soul will forever outlive his body.  But I still am not at peace with my loss.  I'm getting there, I think.  I started to go to a support group. But, as I told one of my dearest friends (who I met through Boxer Rescue when we were adopting Angel) that I couldn't go because I could never believe that anyone else loved their dog--their friend--as much as me.  Her response was priceless.  Mind you, this friend is the biggest animal lover I know--her house is literally dedicated to fostering homeless animals and finding them good homes.  She, herself, has lost some dear pets, including a boxer, in the past year.  She said, "I'm not sure anyone ever has loved a dog as much as you loved Sampson."  I suppose that, on top of the huge outpouring of support I received, helped me to know that Sampson knew he was loved beyond belief--and that's what truly matters.

In the time that has passed since Sampson's passing, I have also found some great outlets for my energy--including getting involved in a great organization that helps people pay for life-saving care of their pets.  I always felt one of our gifts to Sampson was the ability to handle all of his health issues.  He had the best of the best medical care--even if that meant sacrifices in other areas of our financial life.  He was worth it!  And I'm so glad that was not a guilt I had to grapple with through this process.  I am always searching for ways to share his story--to keep his memory alive.  This will get me through.


We also welcomed a new boxer boy into our home, Claymore.  I was hesitant at first, but as Buzz said, "This is just want we do.  We are dog people.  And if we're not dog people, I don't like us."  True, true.  Even after that, I was not sure I could manage another boxer.  But Sampson was partial to boxers--could pick one out of a crowd.  So we got a boxer, but one whose looks do not resemble that of Sampson.  He's a good boy.  He came from the same Boxer Rescue as Daisy and Angel.

So, today, I'm searching for closure.  I know that can't totally be achieved, but at least I can get it out here...on this blog...so I'm not "scared" to come back to it.  I am so lucky he spent his entire life with me.  He was the best.  And I carry him with me in my heart and my soul.  


I miss my Old Man...My Old Friend.  As I said in my Facebook note when I was at a complete loss for words, this song says it all...  As I told Sampson every night during our cuddle time before he drifted off to sleep, and as I told him the night I said my final "goodbyes" and "I love yous," 

Good Night, Sweet Prince.


"The love and the laughter will live on long after all of the sadness and the tears..."

The story of Angel

Angel came to us from a rescue organization in Florida in September 2003. She was the perfect big/little sister for Sampson and a wonderful addition to her family. We had to say our final goodbyes to her in May of 2008. It was a hard day for us all, but we are left with lots of funny and heartwarming stories and wonderful memories. She showed us what it means to survive! Below is her story through an archive of old blog posts...

SERIOUSLY...I did that for my dog (and I am glad!)

January 14, 2008

I have been getting a lot of strange looks, comments, etc. these days. So, I figured I would try this new-age-blogging-thing (ha, ha) to send a message to anyone who's curious.

As most of my friends know, my dogs have health problems--serious health problems. Just the quick run-down--Sampson has had a sensitive stomach since the day I brought him home (yeah, he puked in the car that day). Yes, some of his most expenisve problems were self-inflicted...like when he ate a 99 cent ball from PetSmart and we had to have a specialist do emergency surgery to remove it. His problems have somehow developed into a major problem with his pancreas. He has had pancreatitis 3 times (that we know of) since November. The doctors aren't sure what's wrong, but say as long as he responds to treatment, that's the route to go...so keep your fingers crossed that keeps bringing good results.

Angel, on the other hand, has had some even bigger issues. She, too, has had a sensitive tummy...but that is the least of her problems. We got her from a rescue organization and her "previous life" she was tied up to a tree outside of a crack house, which brought a multitude of problems. But she survived that and some additional health problems that followed. In 2004 she had malignant melanoma removed from her mouth twice--the second time getting clear margins (a good thing because it means they got the whole tumor). I was made painfully aware about the grim statistics for THAT type of cancer in THAT part of the body. They say many dogs don't live more than 6 months and as much as 99% of them are dead within 2 years. Well, you can do the math--she made it past the odds.

On December 20th of last year, we had a biopsy done for a tumor on her neck. The day after Christmas we got the news that Angel had cancer AGAIN. And this time it was a very rare form and the odds were, yet again, stacked against her. To make this long story somewhat shorter, after a lot of phone calls and tears and a trip to Florida, Angel had surgery on January 3rd to remove her right salivary gland. The surgery was successful and, again, the margins were clear. This is very bitter-sweet (to say the least) "good news." Why? Chest x-rays are standard before surgery for a fast-spreading cancer in dogs. When we had those done on January 2nd, the doctor gave us a good report. But the next day, when the radiologist read the results, she saw what she thinks could be early lung cancer--of which dogs rarely survive many more months after diagnosis. We went ahead with the surgery on the chance that it is something benign in her lungs. She has come through the surgery with flying colors--and I mean FLYING. We have not been able to keep her calm. She is back to her old self again. She and Sampson even in the midst of their illnesses are the same "puppies" we know and love.

So, why am I writing this...and why is the subject LIFE instead of PETS???I am learning a lot through this experience. First of all, I am indirectly facing my biggest fear ever (cancer). Also, I am learning a lot about priorities and myself. I am so tired of hearing "it's just a dog." I am also tired of people thinking I am crazy for spending all of this time and money saving a dog that may only have a few more years of "normal" life-span even if nothing was wrong--and possibly only a few months with another illness. I am crazy--but for other reasons. :o) My pets are a part of my life--of my family. Regardless of whether either of my dogs live another day or another decade, they teach me something new just about every day. I see strength in these animals that we could all learn from. Angel has beaten the odds too many times to count. Sampson can find something exciting (or just go to sleep) in just about any situation. They teach Kaitlyn things. Because of these dogs, my daughter loves animals and she does not fear them.

Do these dogs know something we don't? I have long contended that animals are smarter than us. As a sociologist, sometimes I think maybe it is because they are just themselves without the constraints of society. Maybe they don't fight their instincts like humans sometimes do. I have also always agreed with the bumper sticker "The more people I meet, the more I like my dog." These dogs are SO MUCH more than "just dogs"...they are my friends. Think I am a crazy old lady if you want. But how many people (other than pet owners) can say that they always have someone to listen, always have someone who loves them unconditionally (even if you get mad at them for something stupid), and who always has someone greet them when they get home like it is the most exciting thing that could ever happen? I venture to say, human nature does not always allow for this type of unconditional love...or forgiveness. Of course, I love my family and friends and would be nowhere without them...but where would I be without those floppy ears in the middle of a rough night without my husband? How could I have made it through morning sickness without the comfort of a four-legged mother? Who would have gotten me through move after move with the consistency of and laughter from kidney bean dancing?

So, I guess I should end this because I could go on forever. I do owe a lot to my dogs--and it is worth every penny and every mile to give them every happy, pain-free day they have in them. To explain my final comment (and the song on my profile--Bad Boys theme song), when we first got her, Angel used to shake her boxer tail and go crazy for that certain theme-song. In closing, I will just say "Angel-girl, this song's for you...shake your tail-feathers, bitches!"

Doggy Heaven is Brighter Today

May 31, 2008

Today was Angel's day to go. She had developed a horrible disease in her spine. We did not think she would make it through last week, but the doctors helped us to give her a few more happy days where she was our Angel-girl. Over the last day she lost all feeling in the lower half of her body. It was time.

I am crushed and I miss her more than words can say. She taught us what it means to truly rescue a dog and she brought us many happy years. Even though I miss her now, I picture her running and jumping again pain-free--wagging her boxer tail. She was so full of life until the end. She brightened so many days for us and others. I feel guilty for every time I got frustrated with her, but I think she forgave me for being human. Even though it has been a long, tough journey, I still cannot believe she is gone. But I am thankful that we found each other and I am grateful for every day she gave us.

Thanks to everyone who reads my crazy animal blogs. Maybe I am already a crazy old lady, but Angel and Sampson are members of our family. Thanks for your love and support. We know we did everything that we could. She knew she was loved. Doggy heaven is a little brighter today.

When it Storms

July 5, 2008

Since September 20, 2003, storms have had a new meaning in our home. That was the day we adopted Angel...and her storm phobia. I had never seen anything like it--and it got worse as she aged. She would get SO nervous and shake; her heart would race and she would breathe so fast and heavy I thought she would pass out. She had "calm down pills" that helped some--especialy earlier on--but barely phased her near the end of her life. Sampson, on the other hand, could sleep through it all. In the early years, he would notice her nervous fits, but as time passed, they became normal to him. But everyone that knew us, knew of Angel's problems. When we lived in the Real Jacksonville where it stormed, oh, about every afternoon in the summer and still occasionally all year long, even our closest friends helped us out. I remember being out during terrible storms and our neighbors/closest friends calling to see if they needed to check on her--they knew us so well.

When Angel was here, I always remember thinking how nice it would be not to have a dog who was so scared. I always felt sorry for her--I am sure her fear came from early on in her life before the boxer rescue found her when she was tied to a tree...even through those terrible Florida storms. So even though I pitied her, I selfishly wished I didn't have to deal with it. Now she is gone, and what I wouldn't give to be popping calm down pills down her throat when I hear thunder and trying (always unsuccessfully) to calm her down.

It is storming now...Sampson is passed out in the living room and Daisy is sleeping in her crate. (Her crate, by the way, is Angel's.) It's quiet and calm but I can't help but take a break to feel sad that Angel is not here. Even though we never calmed her down totally, I think that she knew we would keep her safe. And we did.

I miss her so much, but I am thankful for Sampson and Daisy...and, as always, Angel has taught me a lesson. Sometimes blessings come in strange packages. I hesitate to think I will ever sit through a storm without my mind on Angel--and I will work harder to cherish every situation with those I love (four-legged and two), not knowing what they might teach me or how I might miss what I think are hard times later down the road.

In the meantime, I will get back to my cleaning--even though just about every spot on our floor has already been cleaned in the past week. Daisy is not quite house trained yet. :o) Luckily for me, I have a two-year-old who tattles quickly so I can clean it before it gets out of hand. Oh, and Sampson is a pro at his new big brother role. We always joke that Angel is looking down on us and making fun of our decision to bring a puppy into our home. And I admit, I always feel like I am on some silly reality tv show. I know I look ridiculous most of the time. My house is a total zoo now, but I enjoy it and so does K--and Sampson does, too--most of the time...more funny doggy stories to come....

For now, I will use the sound of thunder as a constant reminder of our four-legged Angel watching over us, probably laughing her boxer tail off. :o)

Adapting and Overcoming From If Dogs Wore Braces...

November 13, 2008

My dogs have been the masters of adapting and overcoming! When Angel had her surgery in January, they were concerned that they would severely damage some facial nerves. It was not nearly as bad as they thought--the surgeon located the "main" one and didn't touch it--but there was some temporary damage. Her face did droop on the right side and she could not control the muscles on that side of her mouth for a while. Within TWO days, she had learned to press the right side of her mouth against the bowl when she drank to be able to keep the water in her mouth and not make a mess. She would get food stuck in her flappy-jaws (as we call them) at first, but within a week, she had learned to chew on the other side of her mouth or something because her face was still droopy, but her flappy jaws stayed clean. Don't ever underestimate the abilities of our canine friends! I mean, seriously...no one ever explained to her how to do that; she just did it on her own.