After the Loss

I had to have my dog euthanized yesterday.

I, of course, shed tears yesterday as the veterinarian gave me the bad news about Layla's worsening condition, as I contemplated the decision I had to make, and when my dog was euthanized. I shed tears this morning when I saw a photo of a couple of girls in Kenya paying their respects to a favorite wildebeest, by kneeling next to him and putting flowers on his body.

So the grief is there. It's below the surface. And it is pervasive. I know I made the only decision I could make. My dog was dying of lymphoma. I believe she would not have survived more than another day or so. 

So today as I went about my business in pandemic-induced isolation, I didn't shed many tears. But what I do feel is a deep sadness. I continue to do what I have always done, and that is to look for her as I walk through my house. 

Yesterday, I folded her blanket and placed it on her bed in my bedroom. When I went back into my room a few hours later, the blanket was no longer on her bed. It was still mostly folded, but it was on the floor, not on her bed. I like to believe that this was her way of letting me know that she had arrived on the other side and that she is OK. And she is still with me, albeit in another form.

It isn't often that I get a sign from a deceased dog, but it has happened twice previously. In the first case, I could hear the jingle of my dog's tags once or twice after she departed. I caught a glimpse of her peeking around the corner, as she often did. And a few months after Layla's sister Bailey died, I felt the 'bop' of a dog nose on my finger. I was on the phone with a good friend when it happened, and I immediately mentioned it to her. One of my dogs was in the back yard, sleeping in the sun. Layla was in the living room. So I have no explanation other than that Bailey paid me a visit.

I'm not sure how I feel about ghosts and spirits, but I know that I felt the 'bop' on my finger. I know I heard the tags jingling. And I know where I had placed the folded blanket. My remaining dog never goes into my bedroom unless it's to follow me in there.

My little dog could be a challenge. She and her sister, who died a bit more than a year ago, had attitude. I always said they were little dogs with big attitudes. They could be difficult. But when I adopt a dog, it is for that animal’s natural life. My dogs get the best food, the best veterinary care, the best home.

This death hit hard because it was very unexpected and the cancer progressed so quickly. I can, however, take some comfort in knowing that a wonderful team of veterinarians and support staff took care of my little one during the last four days of her life. We did everything to find out what was causing her problems, and what could be done about it. 

And I know that now she and her sister are once again reunited. As littermates, they were inseparable in life, and now they will be together for eternity.