Chaos Everywhere Options

[MigginsMom]

It has been five weeks since my beloved dog of 12 years, Chaos, left my life. A new type of chaos now exists—filled with loneliness, anger, and depression. Don’t get me wrong, I do have days when I believe I am stronger, and can smile without tears when I remember all the good times. His name was Chaos; he was a Lab/Retriever mix, and a good/true friend of mine. With such a beautiful face and coat, and an amazing disposition, everyone he met instantly loved him. He was often the center of attention, swam like a marathon swimmer, enjoyed boating and followed everyone who water-skied around the lake, just in case they needed to be saved. I referred to him as Miggins or Momma’s Boy, and commented often that he was “uncaninely” fun. Chaos could open doors, skin a water bottle in less than five seconds (remove the twist-top and outer ring), jump and tap a bird in mid-flight out of the air– although he never hurt them; he was just that quick in his younger years. He did have one annoying trait—his bark was oddly high-pitched and very loud, and he barked a lot. He could hear a fly fart outside.

For the past 8 years, I have worked from a home office, so Chaos and me had a solid routine – in the early morning, he would hear me rise and his tail would thump loudly as he waited patiently by the stairs, looking up to catch a glimpse of me descending. Even though the family (my kids and husband) would be up and down, preparing for their work days, he would hardly stir, preferring to sleep in and wait until his Momma came down to greet him. If I had to leave the house to go shopping, attend meetings, or run errands, I would look at him and say “Momma will be right back”. I always came back, and he understood the concept, I know he did.

He rarely ever went ‘up’ stairs, unless there was a thunderstorm—he preferred to sleep in his comfy bed, on his big pink comforter at the bottom of the stairs, (or not so secretly on the living room couch) always on guard. Our typical day included me preparing the family lunches, while Chaos would sit beside me in the kitchen and wait for food to ‘fall’ into his mouth. After everyone left, we had our early morning walk, and then Chaos was content to sleep under my chair while I tapped away at the keyboard; “making money to buy us all treats” I would tell him. He’d nuzzle my elbow when he felt I needed a break, or it was time to play, or walk, or go for a quick squirt in the backyard. But he was happiest just laying near me, so he could feel my feet under or rubbing through his fur. I was happiest having him under my chair, my feet tucked under him. I am more than three weeks behind in work.

I thought I had experienced all the stages of pet-loss grief, but it hits me in waves, sometimes unexpectedly, sometimes the memories and now loss cause my chest to tighten and the tears start flowing. I spent countless hours searching for something that will ease my pain and have come to a conclusion – there are not enough words or distractions to help me focus on life’s current challenges and triumphs. Chaos had a way of keeping my “stick on the ice” – yes I am Canadian so hence the hockey metaphor. He helped me through some extremely difficult years/months/days and nights, and made everything in my world seem right, and safe. I believe my husband is sending me to the penalty box for “high-sticking”.

The last week of his life was for the most part heart-wrenching and awful—extended because I did not want to let him go. I slept with him on the floor, his breathing labored; his whimpering still haunts me in the nights. The cancer was rapidly spreading, and he was losing control of most of his faculties, he didn’t bark anymore, and his hearing/eyesight was failing. Even bacon or the prospect of a walk didn’t interest him. It was the last day of his life, and the kids drove him to a nearby river, carrying him (all of 85 pounds) to see the water, the ducks, and all the other dogs. He came back wet, and oddly content. But the reality was, he was struggling—he could no longer run, or jump into the truck. My husband and I took him to our vet to be euthanized that evening. It was peculiar, this feeling of knowing within minutes, Chaos would be at peace and yet, the finality of it all not registering with me. For Chaos, I was the one who had to be strong, reassuring, holding his head in my lap and whispering into his ears, one last time “Momma will be right back”. It was a peaceful end for Chaos, and the beginning of my journey into emotions that I have little control over. Once his last breath was breathed, my loud sobs could be heard three towns away. It was the shortest and longest day of my life.

This morning I crawled along the hardwood floors, running my fingers over each groove where his claws had dug in and left their marks. I kneeled on each stair where deeper claw marks remain, left from when he frantically tried to escape the booms of thunder or the sounds of firecrackers. Profoundly, the hundreds of indents remind me of the many ways he touched my life and made it all that more whole. Chaos left many marks, but I can’t seem to find his lovely scent anywhere; he oddly enough only smelled like a dog when he was a wet dog. My husband threw out everything; his bowls, his leash/collar, his blankets, his bed, his towels, his brush, his toys, his baby crate. He said he was only trying to protect me. I find Chaos hair and water bottle rings and tuck them away in an antique sugar bowl in my china cabinet—secretly stashing every piece of evidence that he was here. His pictures are everywhere—besides, he was in almost 99% of our photos. He was family.

I can’t get used to the doorbell ringing; because he is not here answer it, charging towards the front like Marmaduke. He isn’t protecting me from that dreaded paperboy collecting money, or the UPS delivery person. Birds and squirrels have returned to the yard, although I adore them, it’s not the same without his barking and chasing them away. I still separate my food because for the last 12 years, there were always meats and treats left on my plate for him. I avoid the pet food aisle in the grocery store – every shop ended with a new treat for Chaos. Spilled food remains on my floors, but the hair is now mostly gone. I can’t drink from water bottles.

The first trip to the cottage without him was brutal. I set up his memorial in the woods beside the fire logs – his favorite place to chase chipmunks. I nailed a plaque into the cottage wall – “Home is Where the Woof Is” … my favorite picture and saying. At the end of the day, when everyone returns home from work/school and whatnot, I am still lonely. Chaos spent the evenings cuddled into my legs while I read or watched television—he counted on me to fill his bowls and kiss him goodnight. I simply feel like there is cement around my ankles, and the cobwebs in my head are making me crazy. You see, everyone else in the family seems to have ‘moved on’. Although I have so much love in my heart for Chaos, I am not ready to get another dog. I know some day I will, but not yet.

Reading through your message threads has helped a great deal and it is indeed therapeutic to write and reach out to you – you confirm what I already know, we are kindred spirits in that we loved, and were truly loved by our furry family members. We share surprisingly same stories, and I have shed many tears reading yours. Thank you all …

[LoveThem]

I read your story through tears and am still crying now....as I know and feel all that sadness and pain you are talking about.
12 years....yes, that was also my limit for my big dogs...I have had 2 lady Silver and Black German Shepherds and one golden lady part boxer part shepherd. I was raised on Lassie and loved Rin-tin-tin on TV and Roy Rogers dog Bullet. I also had a collie as a youngest but my parents gave her away so I don't know what happened to her.

But the ones I mentioned above that I had...none went over 12 years old. I have read that for the larger dogs...the life is shorter. But they are so much to hug and love and wrap your arms around....they meant a lot to me. I raised them from puppies and loved everything they brought into my life.

I am glad you said someday you would have another. It really helped me a lot to have the distraction of another puppy or cat demanding attention.

Chaos sounds like such a beautiful baby...but then who among these creatures is not? I did post a Dog story in the Tributes section that I found very moving and hoped that all dog owners especially would read it. My last baby, a cat named Little Guy, was with me for almost 17 years..which totally amazes me cause I am used to my dogs leaving at 10 or 12 and that seems so short. So it has been that many years since my last dog, named Lady, who had spinal cord problems at age 12. When she was taken from us, we were planning to move in a few years and decided no one new until we were settled again...so a feral cat had kittens in our backyard. With our dogs gone..it was quiet and safe there, I guess. So I wound up with 3 kittens for many years and just lost my favorite in September.

You are correct about how we all share the same pain and how similar the stories are and it doesn't matter what kind of baby we have....the joy of knowing them and having them in our lives and the devastating pain of losing them is exactly the same for all of us. No one will have a lesser amount...it is the most intense pain and also the most constant. By reading here you can see that posting here has helped many of us and I encourage you to keep doing that. Posting favorite pictures of our special ones make us all smile cause we know those pictures are of the happier and healthy times....those are the important memories that help us start healing from the pain. It will always be within us and can surface at any time but over time we become more in control of it.

And if we feel like a day of crying....we do it. If we need to write...we come here and do it. We learn that whatever helps us to release the emotions building up inside of us..is the right thing to do at that time.

I am so very sorry it was Chaos' time....your descriptions tell about a very important member of your family..that now resides in your heart and will forever be loved and missed terribly much. You mentioned saving his fur. I put my 3 babies' fur in a sealed ziplock bag and I have found that my first one..who left in 2002...his fur is as soft and alive as he was 6 years ago. I don't now if it is the sealed bag or if their fur just stays that way forever. But at times I do touch it between my fingers and know it is as alive as he was at the time I got the fur. I took mine from their brushes because they loved to be brushed so of course, there was plenty of hair to chose from. I put the fur and a favorite toy in a bag for each of them to have their own and just keep it in my dresser drawer..as a way of keeping them with me in some way..physically.

Take Care and I wish you peace and healing and am glad you posted here with such a beautiful story of the wonderful times and moments that Chaos was such a part of. The sadness is what we must deal with at the end in order to have had them in our lives at the beginning which we always hope is for as long as possible.

Hugs to you from many here who care and speak from the heart. There is no other way to speak about these special ones in our lives.

[Alex1]

Chaos's Mamma,

I don't know what to tell you, your story was beautiful and brought a tear to my eye, Chaos sounds like he was a wonderful baby. Its strange how we never truly realize the massive impact our furry children had on our lives until it is their time to leave us. Little things that once seemed silly, mundane, or not worth mentioning, have now become cherished memories of the love we have lost. Little moments of love shared between us and our furry children, are forever held in our hearts as a reminder of the unconditional love we shared with those special babies.

I understand about the saving momentos that remind you of your baby. Its been over a week since Kota passed and I can't seem to bring myself to throw away his insulin or the cup of syringes in the cabinet, they are things that remind me of him, and getting rid of them hurts too much right now. So I leave them where they are, while fondly remembering the times he would love on me after I gave him his shots. I find myself coming across tufts of his fur floating around the house and it brings a tear to my eye, and for some strange reason I can't bring myself to vacuum them up, because its all I have left of my little Kotaman.

Have hope my friend, the pain will eventually subside, life will have meaning again, but when and how are totally up to you. Mourning is a unpredictable thing, it works differently for each person, so do not deny yourself the feelings of loss and pain, they are a natural part of healing. But please know that it life will go on and you will learn to love again someday, I hope that will bring you some form of comfort. Please continue to post your thoughts and feelings, the support and understanding you receive here is wonderful, and just knowing that others here share in your pain helps a lot.

[goliath]

Though Chaos may be gone from this earth, your testimony of love tells me he very much alive in your heart. When two hearts have truly bound there can never be any separation ever again. It's amazing what this kind of love does to enhance the meaning in our lives. We build so many wonderful and happy memories with them over the years and then...............suddenly they are not with us anymore. The sadness and grief as well as the depression and anger absolutely paralyzes us. For me, I never thought there was going to ever be another happy day in my life unless Goliath was here with me.

Over time, I realized Goliath WAS still with me. Because of the beautiful memories we made together I became a better me. He was the key to so many lessons of love and taught them well. Those precious lessons of his is what I carry with me wherever I go. The pitter patter of his little paws are felt in my heart where he is alive and very well.

The rollercoaster of emotions you describe will become far less hilly as time goes by. But you will find as the pain of losing Chaos slowly subsides that more of the happier memories you hold in your mind and heart will emerge. You see? When Chaos passed away he left you with far more than grief. Reach deep into your heart and you will find peace.

May you forever be blessed in having known such a love in your life. Chaos's heart and yours became one long ago. THis kind of love lasts til the end of eternity. One day you and Chaos will say hello once again and live in a place where love only exists.

Take care and God Bless. Keep coming and sharing your sorrows as well as your joys. It is here in this forum where we help each other find a way back to a happy and fulfilling kind of life.

I will forever give thanks to God for choosing me to be Goliath's Momma and will love him til the day after forever. God chose Chaos for you too. Shower yourself with all the sunshine he brought into your life. Feel his warm love and give thanks for all you and he lived and loved.

Many hugs of comfort and love are sent to you and your family from mine.

[MigginsMom]

Thank you LoveThem, Alex1 and Goliath for your wonderful, kind, and insightful words and support. The healing has begun for me, and I know this because I found one of Chaos' toys in the garage today. I picked it up, smelled it, cuddled it, and smiled from all the beautiful memories we shared. Although now I am shedding tears telling you this, it brought me great comfort to know I will always remember him with or without tears, and that is okay. The toy 'kong' wouldn't fit in the china cabinet, but I hid it away where I can find it and hold it when I need to ... just like I hold Chaos in my heart.

Stay well, and hugz to your loved ones, furry or otherwise!

MigginsMom

[goliath]

The healing has begun for me, and I know this because I found one of Chaos' toys in the garage today. I picked it up, smelled it, cuddled it, and smiled from all the beautiful memories we shared.

Yes MM the healing has begun. I can relate with you so well when you described how you felt when you found Chao's toy. That first genuine smile of remembrance that sends a glimmer of hope finally comes. Many more hellos will come to you right along with the smiles.

My first smile of remembrance was a couple of months after Goliath passed away. I have a wood chest that Goliath chewed one of the corners off when he was just a puppy. One day I went to clean the room I keep it in and noticed that corner, which I hadn't really looked at in many years. Though I wasn't happy when he did that I sure am glad now that he did. Each time I look at it now I think of him. Ironically enough we adopted a new puppy about 7 weeks ago and this one chewed the corner off the other side of the same chest.

Bask in the sunshine of your sweet and wonderful memories you hold so dear. Chaos is alive and well within you and all around you.

Be well and take good care of yourself. I would love it if you came back and shared more of the times you and Chaos shared together.

[LoveThem]

I am so glad you found that toy and are keeping it. What I did was get a ziplock (airtight) bag and put in it some fur from my Little Guy's brush, a small ball that was a favorite toy of his and I keep that in my dresser drawer and whenever I want something physical to touch, I take it out and it does make me feel closer to him. In fact, I have the same thing for all 3 of my babies.

So, I understand your thinking about having that toy where you can find it anytime you want to....it truly becomes a way of physically touching them in the only way left to us. And I can truly say...I find a comfort in doing that.

Hugs

[havana]

It has been five weeks since my beloved dog of 12 years, Chaos, left my life. A new type of chaos now exists—filled with loneliness, anger, and depression. Don’t get me wrong, I do have days when I believe I am stronger, and can smile without tears when I remember all the good times. His name was Chaos; he was a Lab/Retriever mix, and a good/true friend of mine. With such a beautiful face and coat, and an amazing disposition, everyone he met instantly loved him. He was often the center of attention, swam like a marathon swimmer, enjoyed boating and followed everyone who water-skied around the lake, just in case they needed to be saved. I referred to him as Miggins or Momma’s Boy, and commented often that he was “uncaninely” fun. Chaos could open doors, skin a water bottle in less than five seconds (remove the twist-top and outer ring), jump and tap a bird in mid-flight out of the air– although he never hurt them; he was just that quick in his younger years. He did have one annoying trait—his bark was oddly high-pitched and very loud, and he barked a lot. He could hear a fly fart outside.

For the past 8 years, I have worked from a home office, so Chaos and me had a solid routine – in the early morning, he would hear me rise and his tail would thump loudly as he waited patiently by the stairs, looking up to catch a glimpse of me descending. Even though the family (my kids and husband) would be up and down, preparing for their work days, he would hardly stir, preferring to sleep in and wait until his Momma came down to greet him. If I had to leave the house to go shopping, attend meetings, or run errands, I would look at him and say “Momma will be right back”. I always came back, and he understood the concept, I know he did.

He rarely ever went ‘up’ stairs, unless there was a thunderstorm—he preferred to sleep in his comfy bed, on his big pink comforter at the bottom of the stairs, (or not so secretly on the living room couch) always on guard. Our typical day included me preparing the family lunches, while Chaos would sit beside me in the kitchen and wait for food to ‘fall’ into his mouth. After everyone left, we had our early morning walk, and then Chaos was content to sleep under my chair while I tapped away at the keyboard; “making money to buy us all treats” I would tell him. He’d nuzzle my elbow when he felt I needed a break, or it was time to play, or walk, or go for a quick squirt in the backyard. But he was happiest just laying near me, so he could feel my feet under or rubbing through his fur. I was happiest having him under my chair, my feet tucked under him. I am more than three weeks behind in work.

I thought I had experienced all the stages of pet-loss grief, but it hits me in waves, sometimes unexpectedly, sometimes the memories and now loss cause my chest to tighten and the tears start flowing. I spent countless hours searching for something that will ease my pain and have come to a conclusion – there are not enough words or distractions to help me focus on life’s current challenges and triumphs. Chaos had a way of keeping my “stick on the ice” – yes I am Canadian so hence the hockey metaphor. He helped me through some extremely difficult years/months/days and nights, and made everything in my world seem right, and safe. I believe my husband is sending me to the penalty box for “high-sticking”.

The last week of his life was for the most part heart-wrenching and awful—extended because I did not want to let him go. I slept with him on the floor, his breathing labored; his whimpering still haunts me in the nights. The cancer was rapidly spreading, and he was losing control of most of his faculties, he didn’t bark anymore, and his hearing/eyesight was failing. Even bacon or the prospect of a walk didn’t interest him. It was the last day of his life, and the kids drove him to a nearby river, carrying him (all of 85 pounds) to see the water, the ducks, and all the other dogs. He came back wet, and oddly content. But the reality was, he was struggling—he could no longer run, or jump into the truck. My husband and I took him to our vet to be euthanized that evening. It was peculiar, this feeling of knowing within minutes, Chaos would be at peace and yet, the finality of it all not registering with me. For Chaos, I was the one who had to be strong, reassuring, holding his head in my lap and whispering into his ears, one last time “Momma will be right back”. It was a peaceful end for Chaos, and the beginning of my journey into emotions that I have little control over. Once his last breath was breathed, my loud sobs could be heard three towns away. It was the shortest and longest day of my life.

This morning I crawled along the hardwood floors, running my fingers over each groove where his claws had dug in and left their marks. I kneeled on each stair where deeper claw marks remain, left from when he frantically tried to escape the booms of thunder or the sounds of firecrackers. Profoundly, the hundreds of indents remind me of the many ways he touched my life and made it all that more whole. Chaos left many marks, but I can’t seem to find his lovely scent anywhere; he oddly enough only smelled like a dog when he was a wet dog. My husband threw out everything; his bowls, his leash/collar, his blankets, his bed, his towels, his brush, his toys, his baby crate. He said he was only trying to protect me. I find Chaos hair and water bottle rings and tuck them away in an antique sugar bowl in my china cabinet—secretly stashing every piece of evidence that he was here. His pictures are everywhere—besides, he was in almost 99% of our photos. He was family.

I can’t get used to the doorbell ringing; because he is not here answer it, charging towards the front like Marmaduke. He isn’t protecting me from that dreaded paperboy collecting money, or the UPS delivery person. Birds and squirrels have returned to the yard, although I adore them, it’s not the same without his barking and chasing them away. I still separate my food because for the last 12 years, there were always meats and treats left on my plate for him. I avoid the pet food aisle in the grocery store – every shop ended with a new treat for Chaos. Spilled food remains on my floors, but the hair is now mostly gone. I can’t drink from water bottles.

The first trip to the cottage without him was brutal. I set up his memorial in the woods beside the fire logs – his favorite place to chase chipmunks. I nailed a plaque into the cottage wall – “Home is Where the Woof Is” … my favorite picture and saying. At the end of the day, when everyone returns home from work/school and whatnot, I am still lonely. Chaos spent the evenings cuddled into my legs while I read or watched television—he counted on me to fill his bowls and kiss him goodnight. I simply feel like there is cement around my ankles, and the cobwebs in my head are making me crazy. You see, everyone else in the family seems to have ‘moved on’. Although I have so much love in my heart for Chaos, I am not ready to get another dog. I know some day I will, but not yet.

Reading through your message threads has helped a great deal and it is indeed therapeutic to write and reach out to you – you confirm what I already know, we are kindred spirits in that we loved, and were truly loved by our furry family members. We share surprisingly same stories, and I have shed many tears reading yours. Thank you all …

Our hearts are with you "Buster's and mine", am glad you can share all your sweet thoughts with us, sorry to hear about your beloved Chaos departure, sure he is looking down to you from heaven, God Bless always Buster and Jorge .

[MigginsMom]

It's almost 4 months since my Chaos left this world. I cannot believe I have survived this long without him, and yes, some days/nights are much harder than others. Not one goes by without thoughts of my Miggins and I still send my love to him every night and silently acknolwedge him every morning. I am ready for a new furbaby, but my husband just announced he is not. He is not sure he wants another dog, after all the pain/grief we have been through. He isn't open for discussion on this presently, even though I believe it will truly help with the healing, and we can provide another dog with a loving home and safe harbour. Anyhow, I will continue to 'work on him' and have presented many rescue labs for adoption -- I hope it won't be long before hubby agrees!

My thoughts and prayers are with everyone on this group -- thank you again for all your kind words and support over the last few months. I come here once in a while for comfort and wish I could share more time with all of you.

Again, stay well, and hugz to all of your loved ones (furry or otherwise).

[LoveThem]

I'm glad you came by again. I know what you mean about being ready for another and hubby not being ready. I went through that when I lost my Little Guy last September..which left an empty home..no furbaby.

I cried so much and was so depressed until one day I was so exhausted from it all I started thinking and asking myself what would make me feel better and I knew it was another furbaby.
I needed to see one in my arms again or galloping through the home. I missed that wonderful unconditional love. So I told my husband I wanted to go looking. He wasn't ready yet but he said he didn't want to see me sad anymore and if that would help me...it was okay with him.

Well, when I finally found my new boy, Lucky, he was all over my husband who started joking that I might have to go find one for myself because he was getting so much attention from Lucky.

I wish you luck and pray you get what you want. It is the distraction I really need. I decided on another kitty because even after over 16 years I didn't feel I had my kitties long enough..but I also see here in the forum that sometimes one's partner is more receptive to an opposite type of pet.
But then..there are also some that wind up getting kittens and puppies.

I enjoyed looking on the Internet to see how it felt looking at pictures in the no-kill shelters.

Hugs to you and your family...and to your Angel...Chaos

[MigginsMom]

Thank you again to all who left such wonderful, insightful, and kind words -- I know each of you are hurting the way I did, and still do in many respects. This weekend, it will be a year since Chaos was put to rest, and somehow I know if there is a Rainbow Bridge, there is not much rest going on with him there! Chaos remains in my thoughts every day; in fact, there isn't a day that goes by where I do not see/hear/feel something that brings him quickly to mind, and in my heart always. Although I haven't been able or ready for a new furry family friend in my home, I have a new 'granddog' arriving this weekend. Very timely, and very sentimental for me to welcome Lovely Lily (##apoo) into our lives at the home of my son and his soulmate.

Wishing you all the best and sending my love your way to your homes; I'll never forget the impact my Chaos had on my life, and will forever cherish our years together.

MigginsMom