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.

[Juanita]

Oh Kim, what an absolutely beautiful picture! I understand why it turned on the waterworks...it did the same to me. AND, I think you chose a gorgeous wedding dress!

The photo reminds me of something my mom told me many times. For most of Spikes life he stayed with my parents (downstairs in the same house as me) during the day while Lloyd and I worked. Leaving him there in the a.m. was always sad/funny because this boy I called "The Dog of 10,000" kisses would refuse to kiss me good-bye. Beg as I might, he would just turn his head and ignore me. But when I came home...OH BOY!!! No one has ever been that thrilled to see me. It was during those joyful homecomings that my mom would say "That dog looks at you with such adoration...I've never seen anything like it".
That's what I think when I look at this photo.

The part about forgiving a spouse for an accident really hit home. A couple of years ago my husband, through carelessness, tried to give Spike my evening pills instead of his own. I was going to be late, and asked my husband to give Spike his evening does of the many meds and supplements he took every day. I take quite a few myself, so I would set our weekly pill boxes up for 2-3 weeks in advance. Spike's were in a basket with his name and a.m./p.m. boldly marked on the containers, and mine were on the counter equally well marked.

Before I go on, I have to tell you that only days before this incident, I mentioned to my husband that I'd wanted to ask him to medicate Spike in my absence but had thought better of it. He went BALLISTIC...."So you don't even trust me to give a dog a pill" kind of stuff. So two days later I call him from work and ask him to give Spike his evening pills and he grabs mine "by mistake". Kim, Spike's top adult weight was 25 pounds/15 when he died. My daily meds contain three different blood pressure medications...enough, I'm sure, to kill even a large dog.

When I got home from work, my husband called from the den "Spike wouldn't take all his pills, so I stopped trying". Of course, some choice words went through my mind, but instead of saying them I just grabbed Spike's pill container and dumped whatever he hadn't takne into my hand. Surprise....ALL the evening pills were there. I remember standing there perplexed for a few seconds, then I grabbed my box, and several were gone including two of the BP pills. I don't know what made me glance at the rug, but there on the floor was one of them WITH TEETH MARKS ON IT. It had actually been in Spike's mouth. I could only assume he had swallowed the one pill that was not there.

I won't describe in full the panic call to a poison control center, then to my vet, then the trip to the vet (forgot to mention that Spike has chronic cardio/pulmonary problems!), the silent ride home after having to leave him overnight, the nervewracked totally sleepless night waiting for the phone to ring ("Only if something happens during the night"). Thankfully, as you probably guessed, Spike made it with no problem. When I picked him up the next day, his little mouth still had traces of the charcoal they used to induce vomiting. I still had not spoken to my husband except in monosyllables and only when necessary.

You'll never guess what the man's complaint was after finally asking why I wasn't speaking to him. HE SAID I SHOULD HAVE BEEN COMFORTING HIM because he felt so bad about what had happened!!!!!!!!!!!!! Don't ask what happened after that. So, yes, I can certainly understand how you could feel a fatal "accident" could ruin your marriage.

Oh my, I've really gone on, haven't I? I think we must be competing for some kind of "Rambling On" award.

Kim, I want to thank you for showing me that I needn't be rushing myself to "feel better" when Spike has been gone less than a month. That dear little guy was so entwined in my life every single day, except for three or four overnights at the vet, for 14 years. I truly can't remember life before him, and I don't know if I'll ever adjust to life without him.
Juanita