Our Wonderful Baby Bruno Options

[Hani&Bruno]

The day I've dreaded for so long has come.
Our wonderful baby Bruno passed away today after 13 years and 1 month with us.

It was on June 18, 2002. My partner Larry found him, a 2 month old Maltese, at a local petshop. He was looking for a present for my birthday which was a month away, but when he set sight on this little beuatiful angel he knew he had to bring him home that very day. We named him Bruno, a tough guy name, and since then, Bruno became a constant fixture in our little home and was loved immensely and returned that love to us. If you see one of my previous posts, written in 2007, you'll know I had another Maltese back in Korea, named Hani. Knowing that I was missing her terribly, Larry decided to get me a Maltese. And I just loved him so so very much. Such a beautiful face, mini-tough guy attitude... I just loved everything about him.
Hani passed away in March 2007, just past her 13th birthday. As Bruno aged, I always was aware he was reaching that age 13 fast.

Bruno needed knee surgery on both hind legs when he was 2-3 years old. After that he had no health issues whatsoever until 2010 when he started having trachea problem which was supposed to be very common in small breeds. Trachea problem has been kept under control with continuous medication. Two years ago, while I was out of job for four months, he got diagnosed with the enlarged heart. This has also been more or less kept under control with 3 different kinds of medication.
We've been very grateful. He just seemed to be slowing down in walking, maybe less active in some ways, and started to have hearing problems. But again, overall, we've been grateful.
We've been feeding him home made meals -- sweet potato, zucchini, chicken breast, ground beef, rice, etc., for the last year and a half or so, and he seemed to be thriving.
However, maybe a week and a half ago, it became harder to make him eat, especially his breakfast which is Larry's responsibility because he's retired. Dinner I fixed for him when I came home at night, he still ate well. It was Tuesday when I first got an absolute No from him while I was trying to make him eat his dinner. I cooked a little bowl of ground beef and he managed to eat that only. This, despite our hope, wasn't getting better, and we decided to take him to the vet.

Yesterday, Larry took him to the vet and was told that he had a very aggressive, bleeding painful tumor in his liver and had only days to live. He actually recommended that they put him to sleep right then and there because his breathing became labored as well. Larry couldn't let him do it. He had to bring him back home so we can have each other at least for another night. I would have fought the idea of putting him to sleep, but hearing that he must be in pain I couldn't say no.

Yesterday evening was lovely. Possibly thanks to the little shot or something to temporarily stop the bleeding, Bruno was close to his normal and ate some treats and was playful. However, the night was difficult. He couldn't stay put more than 3 minutes and was breathing very hard. We knew, as the vet said, his conditions were rapidly deteriorating.

Larry called the vet's office at 8:30 this morning and made an appointment for Bruno's passing for 11:40. Bruno was able to nap quite a while, looing very tired all along.

The time came and we took him to the vet. They took him out to the surgery room to put a catheter to his leg. When being taken out of the room, he was looking back at us. I will never forget those eyes. Surprisingly alert still and questioning. They took him back in the room where we were waiting. The vet put the tranquilizer first and let us stay with him for a few minutes. His muscle was relaxing and he laid down on his belly. The vet came back and processed the final shot. We could see Bruno reaching that rainbow bridge. The vet confirmed that Bruno passed away. I cried uncontrollably. Since yesterday evening, I've gone through multiple times of crying bouts. We came out of the vet's office without Bruno in our arms.

Earlier this morning, we managed to clip a little bit of his tail hair. Everywhere I look, everything reminds me of Bruno, and despite knowing for sure that this was the right decision and Bruno had a wonderfull life, I just am not confident how I will be able to get through this grief. I loved him so so much, and although I know we'll be reunited in heaven, I don't know how I will be able to keep him in beautiful memories and accept the fact that he's no longer with us physically. It's just too much and too raw.
I'm not sure if the picture was successfully uploaded. If it was, that was from yesterday evening, when he was being playful to our surprise. Still so incredibly beautiful...

I'm just so scared about this void in our life without Bruno being there as he has been the last 13 years and 1 month.
He was such a special boy and his presence was so ingrained in every facet of our life.

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[Hani&Bruno]

Thank you Moon_beam, yes, the memorial for Bruno is still a work in progress but it surely is giving me some comfort.
As I feel so much better here on the patio than inside when I'm home and also because I read that nature is a place to go when your heart is heavy with grief, I suggested to Larry that we go to some quiet park. We went to a local lake. We ate sandwich which was for me the first real solid food since last Saturday and watched a lot of birds in and out of the lake. Geese, seagulls, swans and some little black birds with bright orange markings on the cheek... Sparrows and pigeons too of course. It was nice. Saw quite a few people walking their dogs.
We stopped at a silk flowers store to see if we could find something suitable to put on Bruno's memorial. We couldn't find any really so we came home.
For some reason, I can't really watch television so much. It seems I can handle documentaries. Watching something about environmental problems, I just felt this huge swell of sorrows in my heart and cried for a while. Bruno's physical absence is still so brutally painful. We used to put doggie steps against the bed so he could get up and down the bed. Now it's not there but on the way back from the bathroom during the night I still walk far around the bed as if those steps were still there. It may be true that I'm slowly accepting the fact that he's no longer here physically, it still hurts so much. Seems like it is really one moment at a time... But I welcome a new day believing the accumulation of time will eventually make this journey a bit more manageable.