Starting To Feel Human Again

Yesterday was a pretty difficult day for all three of us. There were plenty more tears shed, mostly by myself. The night before ended with a bit of a mishap on my part. Ernie seems to have a cold and his ears are acting up, so I was on the hunt to find his eardrops. Without much thought, I headed to the basement to hunt for them only to come upon a big box full of Rookie babies and toys. Once again, I was gutted.

So, I had a horrible night's sleep and woke up Thursday feeling emotionally drained and cried the minute I came downstairs and saw Rookie's empty space, which Ernie keeps gravating toward even though Rookie's blanket is no longer there. Ernie seemed particularily morose this day as well.

I was missing Rookie so much that I wanted to watch his video again and I put Ernie up on my lap. Ernie is infamous for watching TV and video clips on the computer of animals (cows, horse, dogs and kitties are amongst his faves) and subsequently going ballistic. He barks and cries and lunges at the computer normally trying to bite what he sees. He actually took a hunk out of a computer monitor once before. Anyway, as soon as I started the clip, he was completely entranced. He didn't bark. He didn't cry. He didn't make any effort to attack my computer at all. Instead, he lied peacefully in my lap watching the entire 7+ minutes, occasionally tilting his head from side to side as he watched the pictures of his brother slowing flash by. Afterward I put him on his bed where he remained for hours. Not sleeping. Not really resting. Just silently lying there with his head hung low.

We thought a change of venue might help him so we moved to the basement to get lost in the TV as we were both consumed by waves of emotion yesterday. He lied in his bed for a while and then found the energy to play with one of his toys and then suddenly it became very silent. Ev and I found him sitting on top of Rookie's bed, gazing off into nothingness. I'm sure he was thinking of his brother and wondering why he wasn't there with us.

Last night I received an email from my old boss, mentor and friend who forwarded me a link to a website about coping with the loss of a pet. As I made my way through it, I instantly started feeling a weight lift of my shoulders. It spoke of forgiveness, guilt, positive ways to honour the memory of your pet. It spoke of letting go of negative thoughts and negative memories. And more importantly, it spoke to me.

For anyone interested who has faced, is facing or may face the loss of a loved one in your future, you might want to check it out here.

Today I woke up feeling a bit more human. I decided to take a few moments upstairs before I came down to Rookie's empty place and it worked. Today I made it down the stairs with a bit of a smile on my face, proud that I was able honour Rookie's memory with a smile, not a tear - at least for this morning.

We also received a special gift from the vet's clinic. As a memorial to the passing of our dear friend they presented us with this gift.

We will cherish it always.

A day of Lasts has passed, a day of First begins...

I thought today would bring less tears but the moment I got up, they returned. The prospect of walking downstairs for the first time and not having Rookie there to greet me was unbearable, although for the past couple of months, he would be fast asleep and wouldn't wake up until some time after I came down.

When he would eventually wake and realize I was there, he would struggle to his feet, attempt to gain his balance and clickity-clack across the hardwood floor, wobbling all the way just to get to me for a little lovin'. Yesterday I was blessed with that last little moment we shared each day.

Yesterday brought a last wig-wag because we all know that Rookie would turn himself inside out when he saw you, his hind end nearly meeting his front. The closer they came together meant the happier he was to see you.

Yesterday held a last paw being placed on our arms urging us to NOT stop petting him. There were many last hugs on our part and many nose nudges on his.

Yesterday was a last lap of the back yard where Rookie left his temporary impression in the snow. From time to time over the past two days, you can find either one of us staring aimlessly out the window at his trail daydreaming of good times, promises fulfilled and of course, our profound loss. We know eventually it will melt but the visions we hold in our mind will not.



Yesterday Rookie made his last snow angel. Nothing better than watching him throw himself down and roll around in the snow as though his pain and stiffness had magically disappeared.



Yesterday was a last family walk to Rookie's favourite park, next door to our home. Someone wasn't thinking about his old hips and imbalance because we received several inches of snow the night before making it very difficult for him to make his way. Ev & I tried to break trail for him, but Rookie was as prideful as always and made his own way. He always had to be the leader when we were on a walk. He didn't get too far before his strength was taken from him, but at least he had one more in him.

Yesterday Rookie was given one more hand up the three stairs to the porch because he wasn't strong enough to make it on his own.

Yesterday Rookie received one more exuberant welcome back into the house from his little brother, Ernie. Every time Ernie was left in the house while Rookie was outside he anxiously awaited his big brother's return. The minute Rookie entered the door Ernie, would dance in circles in front of Rookie and place his front paws on Rookie's chest. Ernie would attempt to smell Rookie's muzzle just to make sure he hadn't eaten anything that Ernie wasn't privy to. Either that or he was saying, "How dare you go out and leave me all alone. I missed you brother. I'm glad your home."

Yesterday Rookie had his last brush, a special bonding moment shared solely between Ev & Rookie. Rookie, never satisfied with just a little brushing, he moaned and groaned and nudged his Dad and only relented when the brush was exchanged for his last treat.

Yesterday meant a last car ride with his head out the window although he didn't have the strength to stand in the back seat but he still had his nose in the breeze. We drove the entire way to the UPEI Veterinary Hospital with the window down despite the fact that it was -6 celcius.

Yesterday was a last dreaded visit to the vet's office. We all know how instinctually our pets become anxious there. The staff were so kind to him and us. They had a special room set up up with couches to sit on and a quilt in the centre of the floor for Rookie to lie on. Once he was settled they offered him a last meal...canned food....mmmm....He was in heaven. We laughed because we were wondering if he was thinking he was getting away with eating someone else's food and not getting scolded for it. When the time came to say goodbye, I moved to the floor to sit on the blanket with him while he leaned up against his dad. There were many more hugs and many more tears and then he was gone.

Hopefully yesterday held the last of any pain he felt, but as his ended, ours began. Coming home was the beginning of those firsts. The thought of entering the house without him there to greet us was excruciating. His blanket there. His bowl.

The moment we came in the house Ev folded Rookie's blanket up but left it in place and Ernie instantly made his way to it, climbed on top of it and just sat there.

It was a first for Rookie not reminding us it was time for his walk or time for his dinner. It was a first last night to not be able to give him a good-night hug or to hear him clickity-clacking around downstairs after we went to bed. He was very unsettled in the last months of his life, almost as though he just couldn't find a comfy spot to lie down.

Today Ernie seems to be doing well but occasionally, we see that he's not quite sure what to do with himself. His usual routine is to immediately come downstairs in the morning and head to Rookie's bed where they would greet one another and then he'd snuggle in beside him.

It is also Rookie and Ernie's habit that Rookie would always leave a few extra pieces of kibble in his bowl and Ernie would sneak in and steal them. We couldn't bear to break the routine so we've thrown a few pieces of Rookie's food into Ernie's bowl with each meal since.

We are both feeling like our home just isn't a home right now. As though the enthusiasm we have had over our new lot in life has been tainted. We know, as time passes, it will become more tolerable and less painful but today...today is just asking too much. Life as we know it, is not the same. Yesterday we shed our last tears for Rookie's pain and suffering. Today we shed tears for our own.

And Rookie....Ernie would have made you proud today. He put a "hag" on a squirrel like no other!

Rookie 1995 - 2010

Our Old Fella left us today with the dignity and grace only Rookie would have. Words just cannot describe the despair we are feeling today.

This is dedicated to my husband because there wasn't much I could do to console him except to remind him of the great life we gave Rookie. Love you.

Yet another sign it's time.....

My hubby and I were chatting the other day about Rookie's sense of boundaries. In every home we have lived in that has been without fences, he always seems to know where the property lines are and never leaves them. Even when there are visitors - and we all know how much goldens love people - he would get up to greet them, his hind end wagging in the opposing direction of his tail, but he would always stop short of the property line. Lately he seems to have lost that sense.

Our home is in a slightly rural area. Tree'd property surrounds us on three sides. One lot has a footpath to the beach. For whatever reason, I'll have him in the back yard and as he is stumbling around the property line on that side, suddenly he starts to pick up speed and makes a break for it. He's not running, but he's moving. Of course I can't call him because he can't hear me. I have to run to catch up to him and if I am unlucky enough that he glances back at me before I reach him, he misconstrues my walking toward him for "we're going for a walk" and he continues walking at his accelerated pace until I'm able to catch up to him and lead him back home.

On the other side of our property is a treed lot between us and a park that we used to take him on his walks. He doesn't have the strength to make it there anymore. We have a patch of grass on that side of the yard that we have aptly named, "The Poo Patch". Over the past couple of weeks, he's taken the liberty of stepping behind the trees there, across the property line, to do his business. I stand nearby and keep an eye on him. The other day he took it a few yards further and as I watched him get caught up in the low lying branches of a tree and struggle to turn around, compounded by the depth of the snow, I wondered what he could possibly be thinking.

Yesterday he took it a step further. Same place, different scene. I have both dogs outside for their morning constitutional. It's very cold. Rookie is sniffing around the side of the yard. Ernie is busy rubbing his nose into the snow and just being Ernie. I see out of the corner of my eye that Rookie is starting to make a break for it behind the trees but at the same time, Ernie starts doing the tripod dance. Cold toes. I look back at Rookie and he is moving further and further into the bushes. I can't leave Ernie out there while I retrieve the retriever so I quickly scoop Ernie up, run him into the house and head out into the bushes. By the time I catch up to Rookie he has just about reached the park but he's somewhat tangled up in a thatch of prickly branches and looking somewhat disoriented. He sees me and relief washes over him as I come to his rescue. Once I get him out he heads in the wrong direction and every time I redirect him, he continues to move away from the house. He seems to have no sense of where home is anymore. I wish I knew what was going through his mind.

My mom told me a story about a family dog she had when she was young. The elderly dog disappeared so she went on a hunt for it which lead her down to the beach. She found him, lying beside some logs on the shore and he had passed away. He wandered away to die. Is this what Rookie is thinking or is Rookie trying to get to the park for one last walk? Only he knows.

Grief

Grief....that’s all I feel, taste, and breathe today and our friend, Rookie, is still with us. We’ve been preparing, or trying, to prepare ourselves for what Tuesday holds for us. After nearly 15 years of a full and adventurous life, Rookie will be leaving us. For the past several years we have been bargaining with a higher power to just simply allow us to get him out of the North so he could retire to a life of leisure lounging on the deck, watching life go by. And that higher power did pull through for us but it seems it wasn’t long before we were bargaining again, this time with one another. Around Christmas time, Rookie had another bout of vestibular syndrome and while it did not seem as dire as the first episode he suffered up North, he has not made much progress in his recuperation – he has no balance. He falls on the hardwood floors, he falls on the tile floor, he falls up and down the 3 short stairs to get outside and he falls while he’s walking. Thank goodness the ground is covered with snow. In true Rookie fashion, he figures since he has already fallen, he might as well make a few snow angels while he’s down there.
So adding his current situation to his growing list of ailments – deafness, blindness, arthritic, lumpy, anxious and somewhat delusional – the inevitable has become our reality. Once again, I had secretly called out to that higher power asking for one more favour. Please take him from us so that we don’t have to make the decision for him, but that wasn’t to be. I suppose we’ve asked for too many wishes over the years and this one wasn’t going to happen. His condition continued to deteriorate and Ev & I, individually, started to consider the unavoidable – having Rookie put down. We occasionally would bring the subject up to one another when we’d had a bad day or night with him but it was always quickly dismissed until one morning when Ev brought it up and there was an imminent seriousness to his tone. Me, I just burst into tears and the conversation was done but the message was clear. It was time. A couple of weeks have passed since that morning, but I know we have both been preparing ourselves.
Odd thoughts have come into my mind. This will be the third time for me that I’ve lost a pet who leaves behind a furry companion. My childhood cat KoKo and her offspring, Horse, my heart Megan, and her psychotic sidekick Misha, and now Rookie and Ernie. In both previous instances, the surviving pet only lasted a year after the passing of their partner – heartbroken, I suspect. So I wondered what the surviving pet thought when one day their companion was there and the next, gone. You know when you watch those shows on Animal Planet and a mate or the offspring of an animal dies and the survivor grieves the loss and then moves on? Well it started me thinking – if you have your pet put down, do you bring their partner along so they understand what has happened? Do they truly understand? If we do bring Ernie along, will his need to always be the centre of attention get in the way of peacefully saying good-bye to our dear old friend? Will Ernie be scarred by bearing witness to Rookie’s passing as I know Everett & I will be? I am haunted by witnessing Megan being put down, even though she was basically comatose but the prospect of Rookie having to be put down without the comfort of Ev & I, with strangers in the room, is even harder for me to accept.
I digress – my next step of acceptance was that I wanted to call the vet’s office to ask some questions about the process but I still couldn’t bring myself to do it. Ev was off for a couple of days and as we chatted about what he had on his list to get done, he said it. Out loud. He had to call the vets to make “arrangements”. And I shut down. I tried to distract him all day but he was determined. In his effort to protect me, he suggested I go take a nap. I knew what he was doing. Trying to protect my heart. I could hear him on the phone. I could hear that the person on the other end was taking down information and I could hear that someone was going to call him back. When the call came, I could hear some of his conversation but his voice was very low. What I did hear was the last thing I wanted to – Tuesday at 11:30. Tuesday. At 11:30.
Now, I feel guilt even thinking it but to say it (type it) out loud, but Tuesday can’t come fast enough. Every moment is agonizing. My heart breaks each and every time I look at him. And when I am crying uncontrollably and it’s Rookie that is there to comfort me, nudging my hand with his muzzle for just one more pat, does he know? Does he know that I’m grieving for him? Does he know that his time is limited? Is he trying to reassure me that he is going to be fine? I just don’t know and I just can’t bear to be apart from him right now. Even when he’s asleep, I can’t seem to tear myself away from him.