My approx 6 yr old shepherd husky mix, Wolfie, died unexpectedly today. I took him to a state of the art 24 hr emergency vet, and despite numerous tests and ultrasounds, they missed diagnosing what wound up killing him-pancreatitis. My husband and I cannot believe that they didn't catch it sooner. There was talk of leptospirosis and liver cancer, as his enzymes were through the roof, but an ultrasound revealed gallbladder issues. Wolfie went in to surgery, and we were very cautiously optimistic, as the vet did say there could be infection complications bc he had bile in his abdomen.
Fast forward two hours, and we get a call that Wolfie took a turn for the worse and his heart stopped during surgery. We race there, in the middle of an impending hurricane, to find out he was gone. GONE. All due to a heart arrhythmia brought on by complications from pancreatitis. We were shocked and stunned. Pancreatitis was never mentioned, despite all the blood test and ultrasounds. Not once!
So now,needless to say, we are devastated. Our boy is gone. We weren't able to have children, so he's our baby. Everything I do, smell, see, and touch reminds me of him. To think of a future without him takes my breath away. I plan on going to a support group, but in the meantime, we're here, left to struggle with our shock and grief at losing the most gentle, sweet, funny, beautiful creature. We were so blessed to have him in our lives, but we feel cheated bc we didn't have more time with him, and bc he didn't have the long life he so deserved.

Sorry for the duplicate posts. Trying to figure out how to delete using my phone.

This post has been edited by LS Support: Nov 2 2012, 03:48 PM

Kelly,

I am very sorry for your loss. Tomorrow will be the 2 month anniversary since I lost my Penny Lane. They leave such a huge space when they go. I am sorry the vet did not realize what was wrong. I know that must add to the devastation of him being gone. I'll keep you in my prayers!

Thank you so much. I'm so sorry for your loss too. They really do leave a huge space when they leave.

I still can't believe he's gone. Couldn't sleep last night. Just kept replaying the last time we saw wolfie before his surgery. He looked so sick and tired, but we thought that once his gallbladder was out, that would solve the problem. We kissed and hugged him, over and over. i quietly sang You are my Sunshine to him. I'll never forget how he lifted his head as we walked away. I just said I love you, as the tears started. Two hours later, he was gone. It absolutely kills me that we couldn't be there to say goodbye and ease his transition. He had to go on an operating table...why????
I had to go upstairs to an empty room last night and just scream and cry it out again-wanted my poor husband to get some sleep. The pain is overwhelming and scary. Wolfie was by far the biggest bright spot in our lives. He helped see me through so much grief and trauma. Did I rely on him too much? Now that he's gone, I feel so lost and scared. Afraid that this grief will consume me, and that I'll never feel whole again.
I took the tshirt i kept in his cage at the hospital to bed with me last night, and we slept with his harness too-the last two things that touched our boy. Waking up was so rough, realizing that he wasn't going to come over to my side of the bed, all smiles and tail wags, to start the day.
It all hits me in tidal waves...seeing his food bowls, the case of food we just bought him, his bed, which I lay in from time to time, just inhaling his scent, his favorite toys, all the memories that are triggered, everywhere I look. No more walks, no more playing in the yard, no more sweet face in the window, saying goodbye as we left for work. No more sweet face in the window as we pull in the driveway, greeting us, giving us the best part of our day.
I miss him terribly. What do I do now that the sunshine is gone??? The heartache is consuming me. I'm so so sorry that you didn't have more time, sweetest boy. Please forgive us.
I wish, wish, wish the vet caught the problem sooner.
So grateful to have this forum, where I can express the grief without worrying about being judged.

Hi, Kelly, please permit me to add my sincerest sympathies in the physical loss of your beloved Wolfie. Losing a companion is never easy regardless of the circumstances or how long we are blessed with the privilege of their company. Losing a companion suddenly intensifies the grief.

Kelly, this grief journey is one of the most painful experiences you will know on this side of eternity both emotionally and physically. It is a journey filled with many different emotions that normally consume us all at one time - - having control over our emotions during our deep grief is almost near to impossible - - it is frequently referred to as a horror roller coaster ride.

From what you have shared with us, Kelly, there is no doubt whatsoever that you and your husband did everything in your power to give your beloved Wolfie a happy and healthy earthly journey. When our companions are in a medical crisis sometimes the veterinary care providers can restore our companion's health so that they can continue to enjoy a good quality of life with us. And sometimes, sadly, as is the case of your beloved Wolfie, all the heroic attempts are unsuccessful. Under the circumstances your beloved Wolfie's transition to the angels was peaceful as he was under the effects of the anesthesia - - he felt no pain or discomfort. Still, knowing this does not diminish the deep sorrow that is in your heart that you were not by his side to hold him and comfort him.

One of the most painful adjustments we endure during our grief journey is adjusting to the physical absence of our companions. This adjustment does not happen in the first minute, first hour, first day, first week, first month - - or even 6 months. It is an adjustment that can only happen one day at a time, sometimes one moment at a time, in your own way and in your own time.

The good news in the midst of this excruciating pain is that the love bond you and your beloved Wolfie share is eternal. It is not restricted to the physical laws of time and space. Even though you were not physically with him during his surgery and transition home to the angels, he felt your love with him - - as he feels your love with him now. Nothing in heaven or on earth will ever change this. Nothing in heaven or on earth can ever diminish this love bond you share. His sweet Living Spirit continues to share your earthly journey as he always has and always will. He is always and forever a part of your heart and your memories - - he is always and forever a heartbeat close to you.

I know there are no adequate words in any language that can soothe the seering pain of sorrow that is in your heart. I can only hope that the words I share with you will offer you some measure of comfort, support, and encouragement as you travel your grief adjustment journey. One of the many things you need to remember is that you are not alone. Each of us here do understand what you are going through, and we are here for you for as long and as often as you need us.

Thank you so much for sharing your beloved Wolfie with us, Kelly. Perhaps sometime you would like to share a picture(s) of him with us - - but only when / if you want to. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, Kelly, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Hi Kelly,

I am so very sorry to hear about your loss. That must have been a great shock to you. Regardless of whatever warnings we're given, we still believe that everything will turn out alright. You know, I can understand what you're going through. My dog Zena just passed away on October 20th. She was diagnosed with liver cancer back in September. On her last day, her liver started to fail and she was in a lot of pain. I finally found a vet who would come out and put her down. I called at around 9pm, and he arrived about an hour later. I was a wreck at that point because in my opinion, it took too long. I couldn't bear the sight of her being in pain. Even when we were given the diagnosis of a terminal disease and I did everything I could think of to keep her comfortable during her last month, I still look back and say 'what if?'. What if I caught it sooner, or what if I made sure we had some pain medication to at least ease some of it? I have to admit, I was upset at the vet for not even mentioning pain medication. If it was a matter of her liver, what difference did it make? I called the vet first that night, at 7pm. The particular vet who was seeing Zena wasn't there, so they took down a message and told me that a vet would call me back. Any vet would have been acceptable. The vet we had been seeing didn't call me back until the following morning. I had to tell her it was too late. She sounded like she didn't know what to say because it was such a sensitive subject, and that was the end of that. I never even received a condolence letter in the mail. I am upset at them, and I will never take a pet there again. I know that no one is perfect, including us, but what I'm trying to say is, I can understand you having those thoughts about the vet and about the entire situation. Maybe one day we can completely forgive since they really did try their best at the time (although we still have the right not to do business with them again if that is what we so choose), but right now, it's all still fresh.

I know that the saying time heals all wounds sounds trite at the moment, but as time passes, it will get easier. That's not to say you won't experience bouts of grief. I started a thread on public displays of grief because a few days after Zena was put down, I almost cried in front of my co-workers unexpectedly. It just rose up out of the blue. All I can suggest is that whatever guilt you may be feeling, please try to let it go. You cared for Wolfie as if he were your own child. There is no better treatment you could have given him than that. He knows that you loved him. With every caress and kiss and hug and tender voice speaking or singing to him, he knows how much he meant to you. I'm using present tense because I don't believe that the bond ever disappears. Please don't hesitate to keep talking through this. If you have any pictures you would like to put up here, we would love to see them. And know that you are not alone in this. We all thought of our beloved pets as our babies, and we all have faced their physical loss. Please let us know how you are doing.

Hugs,

Laura

Dear moon_beam,
Words truly cannot express the gratitude I feel for your amazingly poignant and beautiful reply. Every word you wrote has helped to ease my grief and validate how I'm feeling. Thank you. It truly is a horror roller coaster, a "ride" that is unpredictable and so painful, filled with tears and ups and downs that leave me almost breathless at times.
As the day went by, I found myself feeling ever so slightly better. Today was our first full day without Wolfie, and while it started out with me going out to the car to scream and bawl in privacy (my father in law is staying with us) I'm beginning to work through everything as best as I can. It's so new and raw right now though. Finding the half eaten can of dog food in the fridge, and picturing Wolfie running into the kitchen to eat; running my fingers along the inside of his food bowl to feel where he last ate just 3 nights ago; finding more toys around the house; cleaning up his husky hair off the floors. I couldn't bring myself to vaccuum it; I just swept it up with my hands. Little by little, his physical presence is fading, and that's so hard to come to terms with. As you said though, his spirit is with us, and that is one thing that brings some comfort. I saw 11:11 on the clock this morning and made a wish (silly I know), and it came to me that my wish is that he knows and feels our deep love for him, and that we can feel his for us. I really felt him at that moment. That is precious beyond measure, a priceless gift, just as his physical presence was.
I'm so very touched by your invitation to post pictures. The first one I dared to look at this morning left me reeling, but once I cried it out, I was able to look through all the pics and videos on my phone, and while it was most bittersweet, my heart smiled watching him run and play. He was such a happy boy. So yes, I will gladly post pics, and share my gentle, special boy.
With deep gratitude,
Kelly

Dear Laura,
Thank you so so much for your reply, and for sharing your story with me while your loss is so new. You are an amazing person to be able to comfort someone in the midst of your own brand new journey. While I would never wish this kind of pain (or any pain for that matter) on anyone, it is so helpful to know that there are others who truly understand what it's like to lose a pet, a special being who shares a unique bond, a bond that is built on unconditional love. These amazing creatures give so much and ask for so little.
I'm so very sorry for the physical loss of your precious Zena. You clearly did everything humanly possible to ensure that her final days on Earth were filled with comfort and love. I think that the fact that we question whether we've done enough or whether we made the right choices just shows what dedicated and loving human companions we are, ones who cherish our babies to no end. I'm also so sorry that the vet didn't handle the situation properly. Like you wrote, I suppose they try their best. It just hurts to be left with the what ifs. I try not to go there too often, though. Too painful, and won't bring them back.
I totally understand the bouts of grief. I've had a few days off due to the storm; school is closed tomorrow too, and I've already decided to take the rest of the week to work through my grief and honor Wolfie by saying goodbye in whatever way my husband and I decide. Can't really picture going in to teach and giving it my all while this is so new. I showed my students photos of Wolfie just days ago, and now I have to find a way to stay composed when they mention him next and I have to tell them that he's gone. I'm sure their sweetness will overwhelm me.
I'm so very grateful to have the support of people who truly understand, and am grateful for how you've responded and supported me in my time of need. You and Zena are in my thoughts...wishing you peace in the knowledge that you gave Zena a wonderful life and a peaceful passing.
Hugs to you,
Kelly

Trying to post pics. There are a few; I never could help myself when sharing him. Such a handsome guy Here are wolf and pepper, a dog we fostered last summer...

And a few more

Looking at these pics hurts-searing pain. Makes me relive yesterday and realize that I'm still in a state of shock somewhat.

Wolfie, we are so blessed by your presence in our lives, and everyone who knows you feels the same way. Thank you for everything, sweetest boy.

Second morning without Wolfie on this earth. The pain and grief are crushing and scary. I miss him so much. Not sure how life will go on as it's lost so much purpose, meaning, and joy. Have been awake since 4:30. Spent some time a little frantically recording all the little (but actually big) things I'm going to miss about him. The way he grunted with satisfaction when we pet him. The soulful way he would look at me at times; Wolfie's soul was/is so incredibly special. He is an amazing spirit, a gentle, sweet soul who truly touched whoever he came into contact with.

****Question: Can I please get opinions on why the universe might take a beloved companion so soon, before old age?? It's always bothered and puzzled me with humans as well. Do beings who are here for a short time have a fair chance at reaching their destiny, fulfilling their purpose??
I took it for granted that Wolfie would grow old with us, that we'd have the privilege of gently guiding him into old age, that we'd be able to continue to shower him with all the love he deserves. That we would be there when he passed, loving on him, being the last thing he saw before he closed his eyes for the last time. This is breaking my heart. We certainly weren't ready for him to leave (of course, no one is EVER ready) but was HE??? Did he go willingly, peacefully, or does he feel cheated too? This is starting to haunt me; I think that ultimately I need to believe that he is at peace with his time here having ended. I can't imagine him any other way. It's still a struggle though, feeling like his time with us here wasn't supposed to be up yet. I've been just starting to take baby steps toward feeling better about life, physically, mentally, emotionally, and now his passing makes me feel shattered and lost. I really don't know how to live without him, how life will go on to have any true meaning now. And that scares and depresses me terribly.

Hi, Kelly, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing, and for sharing these wonderful pictures of your beloved Wolfie with us. What a handsome fellow he is!!! He has a sweet, gentle face with expressive eyes that reflect the eternal love bond you and he share.

Kelly, please let me try to offer you some words of comfort in that what you are feeling is very normal deep grief - - very painful both emotionally and physically, yes - - still very normal. Clinical professionals now recognize that the physical loss of a companion is as painful, if not more so, as the physical loss of a human family member or friend. You are now on a journey that is filled with all the "first withouts" and the "this time yesterday, last week, last month, last year" - - and your heart breaks anew.

Vacuuming, cleaning, - - all of the activities that once included the physical presence of your beloved Wolfie will now feel like you are "erasing" him from your life - - this is one of the many painful experiences during the grief journey. In reality, though, you are not. You can scour the floor clean, you can vacuum, you can wash every blanket and piece of clothing that holds his hair and fur, you can put away all his toys and food dishes - - BUT - - he is FOREVER in your heart and your memories - - and NOTHING can ever change this. You not only have the physical pictures and videos of specific moments in his earthly journey to look at but you also have those "Kodak moments" that are indelibly imprinted into your heart to cherish. I promise you, Kelly, NOTHING will ever "erase" your beloved Wolfie from your heart and life. I hope and pray that as your deep grief eases you will be able to find some comfort and peace in your heart.

You are so very astute in your observation that no one will ever be prepared for the moment in time when our companions precede us to the angels. It doesn't matter how much time we share with our companions during our earthly journey with them - - we will always want just one more minute, one more hour, one more day - - one more lifetime with them. Still, when they precede us to the angels at such a young and tender age we cannot help but feel that our time with them was too short. I know first hand how this feels, for in 2006 and 2010 two of my companions joined the angels at the tender age of 6 years old due to end stage cancers. This still breaks my heart not just for me but for my precious Noah who was very bonded to them, and who is now the sole survivor in a household that once enjoyed the physical presence of four furkids - - including Noah. There are times for me still when this doesn't seem fair.

When we embrace our companions into our hearts and homes, the "reality" is that we do so without foreknowledge of the moment and circumstances that will eventually physically separate us. If we had this foreknowledge then we would be faced with making a horrible mistake of not sharing their earthly journey in order to protect ourselves from the deep sorrow of physically losing them. NONE of us know what our "appointed time" is in this earthly journey. This is why we cherish their physical presence with us every moment - - and which is why they, too, cherish their earthly journey with us. Regardless of the circumstances that physically separate us I firmly believe with all my heart that our companions are in complete peace and happiness in the company of the angels. This does not mean they do not miss us - - it simply means that they are in a place where there is no sorrow, grief, or pain while they patiently wait for our appropriate time to join them in eternal joy.

Until this happens, though, we are faced with the incredibly painful adjustment of inventing a "new normal" that no longer includes the physical needs of our beloved companions - - and this is a very painful adjustment both emotionally and physically. But I promise you, Kelly, that one day when you least expect it the seering pain of sorrow that is now in your heart will begin to ease, and you will find a renewed "purpose" to your daily routines. And I promise you that your beloved Wolfie is keeping a loving vigil over you and is guiding you now to this moment in time when the deep sorrow you now feel will not be so painful. You are his living legacy - - the heir to his eternal love - - the only one on this planet who is blessed to be his Forever Mom. He wants you to be happy as you continue on with your earthly journey - - but he also knows this will take time.

Keeping a journal of your treasured memories is one of many excellent ways to help you through this grief adjustment journey. You may consider making a "memorial" card of your beloved Wolfie and sharing it with your students. This will help your students to understand the wisdom of validating ALL living creatures, and perhaps will lessen the emotional burden for you when you may be asked about him.

I hope I have been able to offer you some comfort, encouragement, support, and hope, Kelly, as you continue with your grief adjustment journey. There are some questions that simply do not have an adequate answer, but I hope eventually somehow you will be able to find some peace in your heart.

Thank you again so much, Kelly, for sharing your beloved Wolfie with us, and these wonderful pictures of him. I hope today is treating you kindly, and that you will have a peaceful evening blessed with your beloved Wolfie's sweet Living Spirit to comfort you. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, Kelly, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Kelly, I'm so sorry for your sudden, unexpected loss of Wolfie. It hurts so much, doesn't it? Pancreatitis is a really tough thing to treat (at least, it can be in people - I'm an ICU nurse and it's the one diagnosis that I cringe at, when I see a patient coming to us with) - and it can be caused by gall stones blocking ducts, interestingly enough. But what I really wanted to reply to was your question about losing our companions so young, in the primes of their lives.

My husband and I have lost 3 cats, to this day. Cleo was 6, and we lost her to heart failure. Horatio was 2 - we lost him to FIP. Pippin was 6, and we lost him to diabetes/kidney disease. I have no real answers for you, but I understand how doubly unfair those early losses feel. I tell myself that my little ones were so special that they had to go help someone else. Whatever their job was, it's done - even if I don't understand. I also try to remind myself of how amazing they were, and how lucky I was to have them in my life for even a short time. I want more, though - of course.

I also like to think that sometimes, our bond with our companions is so strong that maybe they come back to us. Maybe it's wishful thinking, but I do know that my Earl Grey is a doppelganger for Horatio... even down to his silent/squeaky meows. And we found our way to him two weeks after Pippin died. I could go on, but this isn't about me - I just hope you find some small comfort in it.

Again, I'm so sorry for your loss. The raw edges of your grief will soften over time, though it will never go away. Your love for Wolfie is so very palpable here. I hope that someday soon, smiles will accompany the tears.

Dear moon_beam,
I cannot thank you enough; again you've written such beautiful words that have brought me such comfort. You're so right about nothing ever erasing Wolfie from my life; it's just so difficult to let go of the physical presence, but I know that he's with my husband and me, and will always be. I'm already experiencing occasional respite from the intense grief-I think it may be more like numbness and denial. To be honest, I welcome the breaks. I need them to feel like there is hope that I will be able to go on. I need them because I need to gather some strength for the next sucker punch in the gut when I realize that he's really gone and not coming back; that the nightmare is real and i won't be "waking up" from it. What helps is believing that, as you wrote, Wolfie is keeping a loving vigil over me. That is something I can feel at times and have faith in. It takes some effort, especially when I'm missing his physical presence, but I do believe.
I so love what you wrote about being Wolfie's living legacy, the heir to his eternal love. After he passed (actually beforehand too) I vowed to live life in a way that reflects all he has taught me, and all that he embodied: living in the moment, embracing the simple, yet important things in life, and finding the good in everything. He is my best teacher.
Thank you so much for sharing your story about two of your sweet babies who left this world at such young ages. I can't imagine how difficult that must have been for you and for Noah (Love that name, by the way). They really do feel the loss. Three of our four kitties are definitely behaving a bit differently and have been extra attentive. Their affection and presence are certainly helping us cope.
Again, moon_beam, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your wise, kind, and healing words. You have helped me more than you know. I wish you and Noah a wonderful evening, enjoying the special bond you share.
Warmly,
Kelly

Dear Pippin's Mom Kel,
Thank you so much for your very comforting words. I really appreciate the time you've taken to write. I am so grateful for the replies I've received here; replies that speak to me on a level that only people who have endured what we have can understand. I'm so sorry for your losses. It is indeed hard to lose them at a young age. I agree that we are blessed to have had these special creatures in our lives, regardless of how long they've stayed. I've been trying to wrap my head around the idea that Wolfie's time here was complete, but i'm not there yet. The what ifs creep in from time to time. Over time, I hope to come to accept that there are certain aspects of his passing that I may not understand, and instead of focusing on that, I should try to focus on the love we shared, and the incredible way he touched my life, forever. He really was special, an old soul. As an embroidered piece I bought months back reads: Life is a balance between holding on and letting go. I feel like that describes this journey I'm now beginning.

Again, thank you so much for your kind words. They've helped, and will continue to help, immeasurably.

-Kelly

P.S. I love that Earl Grey is the picture of Horatio, right down to the meow.

I am so very sorry for your unexpected loss. How absolutly devastating. I can't imagine being without my Lucymae. She died 3 weeks ago today. The pain is devastating. We are not alone in our grieving. I wish I could take all the pain away from all of us. I wish our animals could live longer lives.

Once again I am so sorry about Wolfe. It breaks my heart.

Hugs to you and your husband.

Lynn

Hi Lynn,
Thank you so much. I'm so sorry for the loss of your sweet Lucymae. Yes, the pain is so devastating, it's impossible to describe to someone who hasn't experienced it. Everywhere we look we are reminded of Wolfie. I hope that eventually that will make me smile, but right now it honestly feels traumatic. Makes me wish I could will him back. That's just one of the many excruciating things right now. I'm at a point where I just want his physical presence back-to be able to hug and kiss him, even for just one more time.
What definitely helps is the support of others, and that includes all of you amazing people here. I wish we could have a support group in person, but this is great too.
I'm keeping you in my thoughts, Lynn. Hoping that you can feel some peace knowing that Lucymae was and is so loved and that she passed on knowing that you love her.
Hugs,
Kelly

Morning number three without my sweetest boy. I slept a little better last night, and am feeling the tiniest bit stronger. I know that's Wolfie helping me out. I believe that. I have to. I'd still give anything in the world to be able to hug him again, to tell him how much we adore and love him. I'm so glad we were able to see him briefly before he went into surgery.
I've been torturing myself a bit with the what ifs and some of them are beyond unbearable. Like what if he raised his head as we were leaving for the last time because he was, in his weakened state, trying to tell us, no, they missed it Mom and Dad, they didn't get it right. Help me. I'm so sorry if this causes anyone who reads this pain, but I think I need to get it out and acknowledge the thought so I can then work on putting it to rest somehow. Not sure how other than to ignore it or let it go. Have to try for the sake of my sanity.
I'm scared to go on in the real world. I've been off all week due to the storm. (Can't believe the devastation. My heart goes out to everyone who has suffered. We were lucky to have gotten away with no damage.) I hope that going back to school and the craziness of my schedule is something I can handle. I worry so much because every day, and more so on the bad days, I would have sweet Wolfie to comfort me. He brought a light into my life that helped me put one foot in front of the other, and his presence brought such comfort, happiness, and joy. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I fear that life is going to be unbearably dark once the pressures of real life kick back in. That the void and the loneliness will crush me.
Yesterday was rough. Every time a trick or treater came to the door, my husband and I would instinctively go to get Wolfie so that his barking wouldn't scare any children. He was the gentlest of dogs; like any dog though, he would bark when people came to the door. When the mailman came for the first time yesterday, it hit me that Wolfie would no longer be here to greet him. When bicycle riders go by, he's not here to bark at them, although I still expect to see him run to the door or window and bark. So hard. So very hard.
In my stronger moments, I do have faith that Wolfie's love will help carry me through the rough times. That he's here with me. That he wants me to be happy. I strive now to be a better person because of him, in his honor. I strive to love myself more because of him. I strive to let go of the small stuff and focus on what's truly important because of him.
Right now though, I just want him back. I want him back.