Bye Bye Danny Boy Options

[Coconut]

I lost my Danny on the 13th, he was only 10 years old and full of beans. Nine days ago he came in the house looking a bit sick and we noticed he had an hemorrhage on his tummy so we rushed him to the vet. He said he had an enlarged heart an had to be treated, probably forever, and also got a sample of his blood to get it tested. A couple of days later they told us he had ehrlichia and anemia and they would try with two injections, antibiotics and vitamins to see if he would recover. I really thought he was going to get over it, at times he looked okay, ate his food and wondered around the garden, other times he would just lie in his basket shivering, the hemorrhage getting worse. The day before he died he looked perfectly ok, maybe a bit tired, he even came out to the door to say hello when I got back from the supermarket, wagging his tail as always. That night we decided to take him back to the vet because his stomach was so full of gas it was all swalloen. They did a couple of enemas and he seemed to feel a bit relieved, so we took him back home. But when we let him out to the garden before going to bed he was sick, I took my pillows to the living room and laid on the sofa with his basket next to me to help him just in case anything happened during the night. At four o'clock he got up, moaned, was sick and stopped breathing for a couple of seconds. I cleaned him and put him in his basket again, laid next to him with my hand resting on his tummy so I could feel him breathe and then fell asleep without wanting to. Half an hour or so later I suddenly woke up, he was choking so I grabbed him and tried to do something, anything, but he stopped breathing, definately. I called my mom and she tried to reanimate him, but there was nothing that could be done.

It still feels like a dream, when my other dog starts barking I expect to hear his high-pitched bark follow hers. He used to go to sleep under a small table in a corner of the living room, when I pass next to it I still check to see if his tinny feet are moving under the tablecloth.

My father seems to have got over it pretty quickly thought he's the one Danny spent more time with, following him around the garden, sticking his noise in whatever my dad was doing. My other dog doesn't seem to have noticed he's not here anymore, and at times I hate her because of that, because Danny was madly in love with her and loved to spend hours licking her tummy, and looked for her when lunch was ready to tell her. And what really breaks my heart is the thought of forgetting about him, it scares me to not remember what his bark sounded like, I know it was annoying, but I can't hear it in my head. I've had other dogs, one of them died and the other one had to be given away because she didn't get on with my baby girl, so we found her a nice home, and I can't remember anything about them although it wasn't so long ago, so I'm frightened that the same thing's going to happen, I keep trying to remember what he smelled like and things like that but seems so distant in time, like a hundred years had gone by... I cried so much when I realised we didn't have that many photos of him, at least they would help not to forget him.

My mother keeps telling me that I'll get better with time, but I don't want to, getting better somehow feels wrong, even sitting here looking through web sites seems wrong, anything but feeling sad feels wrong.

I'm really sorry if I made some spelling mistakes because I'm spanish and my english isn't as good as it should. Thank you for taking the time to read through all of what I've written.

[Kim R.]

I think the bottom line is that no matter what we save or what we give/throw away, whether we launder certain things or we don't, how many photos we took or didn't take...we will always have regrets. In all the posts I've read here and on two other sites, I have yet to hear anyone say "I did all the right things before, during and after my dear ______'s crossed. I miss her/him terribly, but I have no regrets and no guilt".

This is so true! I think that in our deep state of grief, we find ways to torture ourselves, even if they aren't rational. It's like some sort of self-punishment if you will. I have read one person on here say that they didn't feel guilty after euthanizing their kitty...I'm a bit jealous I must admit. I can't imagine how freeing it would be to be able to resolve the guilt I have over making that decision. It was the worst day of my life.
I sometimes feel selfish for being so sad about my girl being gone when I hear of others who loose their babies at young ages from terminal disease or due to accidents that they feel they could have prevented....I just don't know how they cope with it. That would truly be my worst nightmare. A friend that I met here at LS had to deal with his wife accidentally letting his girl slip past her out the door and as she darted across the street she was hit and killed. This would be my idea of the worst case scenario. His girl wasn't even 2 years old. I would not only just want to die thinking about what my furbaby had gone through during such a traumatic transition, but I truly think that it would destroy my marriage. I know it sounds silly, but I don't think I could ever forgive my husband if that happened to me. I know it was an accident, and it would be selfish of me to blame him, but I'm being honest about my feelings, right or wrong. My girl lived well beyond the 'average life expectanty' of a large breed dog and enjoyed that life to the fullest. She was spoiled rotten and I can truly say I have no regrets about the life that I provided for her. I can't think of one day that passed that she wasn't hugged, kissed, and told numerous times how much she was loved. I hate to think about how her life might have turned out if I wouldn't have adopted her, if she would have gone home with someone else. Someone who wants a cute puppy for their kids, but as they become bored with her, she finds herself living in the yard alone with no one to love her, or no chance at life at all if her time were to run out....She and I were both very lucky to have found each other and I was very lucky to have had her be able to stay with me for such a long time...for that I am truly grateful. If I want to be realistic, my Sasha would be gone by this time whether I would have stepped in and made the decision or not. Lets face it, she would be going on 18 years old...not likely at all for her breed. I guess I could have let her linger on until she died on her own, but I don't think the guilt would have been any less (probably more) if I would have allowed her to suffer just so I could have avoided putting her to sleep...she deserved better than that. Putting it into perspective like that actually makes me feel a little better. Either way she would be gone right now, and when I think whether I would want her last days spent any more uncomfortable than they already were, or to have to make that choice again, I would do it again for sure....the proud, dignified lady she was wouldn't have wanted it any other way.
I don't know what's wrong with me. I have, for some reason, felt the need to ramble uncontrolabley lately. I'm trying to get a hold of myself...please be patient with me, but since I'm sapping it up, I thought I would share this picture. I told my mom that I was organizing some of my pictures and she decided to do the same. She found this one and gave it to me today. In it I had just bought my wedding dress and was showing it to my family. As usual, my number one fan took center stage for the show and I didn't even take note at the time how special this picture would be to me one day. I've cried buckets since I got it.
Your friend in grief,
Kim
P.S. okay, I can't fix it from looking so digital, but you get the point!

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