The day I dreaded more than any other has come. My best buddy, Yukon Cornelius, is gone.
The emotions are too overwhelming and the thoughts too jumbled to express, but anyone who's been loved by an animal can empathize with what I'm going through. So I'll just tell a little about what happened.
Yukon showed no sign of anything amiss. He danced for his supper, ate heartily, trotted up and down the streets of our neighborhood with me and snored like an old man while he slept.
Friday night was the first he gave any indication something was wrong. At bedtime, he climbed as far as the top landing of the steps and no more, despite calls for him to come to bed. The next day he turned up his nose at his kibble both at breakfast and supper. He lacked his usual energy but gave no cause for alarm. My friend Lois was visiting for the weekend and we packed our schedule with events, not realizing his life was ebbing away.
When he refused his kibble Sunday morning, I picked at my scrambled eggs and contemplated taking him for an expensive trip to the emergency vet. Finally I made the call, and Lois and I piled ourselves and Yukon into her car, bound for the vet. As Yukon ambled – and sniffed – his way into the building, I had no idea it would be our last walk together.
In short, X-rays and an ultrasound revealed that half of Yukon's heart had stopped beating, causing blood to pool in the liver. The only (remote) chance of extending his life was with a $3,000-$5,000 operation to insert a pacemaker. But the vet said she couldn't even guarantee that he'd survive the anesthesia necessary for surgery.
Even if the procedure had been free, it wouldn't be right to ask my best buddy to suffer simply to postpone my pain. After an agonizing good-bye, the vet administered the tranquilizer and Yukon went to sleep forever. I sobbed as I cradled his warm but lifeless body, unwilling to let each touch or look be my last. I snipped off bits of fur, here from the thick tri-colored mane around his neck, there from the graceful white finger of hair that curved into the black saddle on his back.
At home, the site of this unfinished rawhide chew toy or that newly-purchased bag of dog food brings fresh tears. In my mind I wrestle over whether to remember or forget. If you've ever been loved by an animal, you know exactly what I mean.
5 comments:
Oh Allison, I can't even begin to express how sad we are for you. As you know, we are going through this as well, and it is so much harder than I ever knew.
Our homes will be sad for a long time--the little hearbeats that filled them are quiet now, and there will be many tears ahead. No way around it, we can only go through it.
Yukon Cornelius had one really bad day--his last--among thousands of wonderful days with a mom who loved him more than anything in the world. And he returned that love every day in every way--he was yours and you were his. In the end, it's important to remember that one bad day is a pretty good track record. (This is what we keep telling ourselves, too, and I think it is true.) You did the right thing and prevented so much suffering. You were the best kind of dog-mom right up to the end.
But none of that helps much right now. My friend sent me this website, and I have to say that it has been helpful: Minnesota Pet Loss Support
http://www.pet-loss.net/resources/MN.html
I also plan to spend some time at other sites, including: http://www.animalhumanesociety.org/edu_loss.asp
Know that we are thinking of you, and that if you need a stiff drink sometime, call us when you're ready: 651-489-1679 (work is 612-672-4308).
Love, Stephanie and John
I echo Stephanie's words. I know what it means to feel like you've squandered precious time that you want back. When I lost M. Marty Martin (my kitty before Little Bear) I was talking on the phone with a friend and giggling while his kidney was failing. It has been so hard to relieve myself of the guilt that had I been more aware that I might have saved him. And yet that's just not the way it is....
I will say that I admire your love and courage and your ability to be there for Cornelius in his hour of need. You may feel badly that he wasn't able to be saved, but your ability to be with him in death like you were in life is what matters here.
As it says in Romans 6: 8 Now if we died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. 9 For we know that since Christ was raised from the dead, he cannot die again; death no longer has mastery over him. 10 The death he died, he died to sin once for all; but the life he lives, he lives to God.
You were able to hold your dear friend at his passing while I have cried at the bedsides of many animals whose humans were unable to be with. It takes incredible faith and courage and love to be by his side as you did and all that time he knew your love.
I cry as I write this because the loss of a dear animal is so hard and I feel so badly for you. I encourage you to have a memorial for him and even create some sort of holy ground for him to rest. If you're unable to bury him some place close then create a space in your backyard for some special flowers or a new tree. I planted a cherry tree over M. Marty's grave (in the midst of the Luther woods) and it gives me peace to know that his life helped to nourish a struggling little tree.
I'll call you sometime this weekend.
Prayers of comfort and strength and healing.
Love,
Sara
Ever since I lost my Gypsy,
I dread to love a dog for the
sheer fear of losing him or her.
I try hard to be careful about it and have had no pets since then. Seeing Yukon and King made me reconsider my decision. But I was sad when I heard that he passed
away. The only consolation is the
unconditional love they shower
upon us... unequal and unlike
human nature..
Take Care
Christy
So sorry to hear about Yukon....The little guy was such a joy. Some things only pet people understand. Otter Tail and I send our best.
Kim
your post brings tears to my eyes. Pets are such a special part of our lives. I am keeping you in my prayers and know that Yukon is running around in dog heaven with a big bag of rawhides and bones waiting for the day you'll be forever together.
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