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Endless Love: Celebrate it EVERY Day.

20230212_Mydogscameoandersonwatermarked400Valentine’s Day: a day that I used to look forward to but now means the anniversary of having Mela suddenly and traumatically pulled from my life. The Christmas decorations stayed up this year longer than usual. The Valentine’s Day decorations usually follow and I struggled to decide whether I would find it too difficult to recognize the significance of a “holiday” that I now view with soul crushing sadness. Ultimately, I decided to put them up as a tribute to my love for them. Not only to Mela, who crossed the rainbow bridge that day last year, but also to my beloved Kenzo who followed behind her only 4 months and 1 day later. For much of the time right after losing Kenzo, my mind was in a very dark place. I functioned but it was all on the outside. I function better now because nearly 6 weeks after losing my perfect Boo, I was moved to add another dog to my life. I owe her an introductory article all of her own, so for now, just know that she exists and that her name is Meridiana, Meri for short. So I still exist in this realm because I chose to, not because I wanted to. I knew that Kenzo and Mela would have wanted me to choose to. But it was and is still is, very hard to be without the physical presence of those you love so deeply.

I try every day to be bright for Meri’s sake. I think that I succeed most days. Some days I even feel somewhat human. But most days inside, the love that I have for Mela and Kenzo is there so vehemently with no solid landing place. So, I talk to them. My very wise friend Dana calls the rituals that we use to cope with extreme loss “active coping”. I would have to agree. They are not only my connection to my beloved babies, they are my connection to my past self who will never exist again. We change with extreme loss. We learn how to move forward because we have to if we choose to go on living and we should choose that. But we construct new personas out of what remains of our old personas. There will always and forever be that layer of intense grief where we are a literal second away from an ugly cry because of. With time, we learn to hold it together more easily but it’s always still there. It always will be. I can be transported to the day that I knew my life would change because something was off with Merlin in a mere second. It’s that close in my heart. And that is okay. I am told that my most recent grief experience is called cumulative grief because both losses were sudden and in a short time span of one another, though certainly one traumatic loss alone can shake your psyche to the core. I survive but I am changed forever. I am okay with that. We live. We learn.

What has not changed at all is my love for those I have lost. Through losing Mela and Kenzo back-to-back, I now feel that I sort of have Merlin, Siri, and Trent back. Not in the physical form. But back here in my life in the form that they took after crossing the bridge but chose to stay and watch over me. No, I did not forget Kera. I am told (and can feel) that she chose to move on with another life after she crossed the bridge years ago. I am sorry that I failed her somehow, but I wish her all of the happiness. I am comforted on a daily basis that the rest of them will remain with me for the balance of this life. I knew that shortly after they crossed and I always look for signs from them but now I feel like we are all here together much more cohesively. I realize that this may be a bit too woo woo for some who may read this and that is your prerogative. But as I said, my rituals are active coping for *me* and I care only how *I* feel about what I believe, as it doesn’t harm anyone else. Let people like things, as I often say about other subjects when it only affects them.

My active coping rituals are many. One involves talking to all of my lost loves daily but especially when I am making my bed. All of their primary collars live under my pillow. I sleep wearing Kenzo’s rolled leather collar because I can. It fits. I gives me comfort. And that is okay. It’s necklace length on me.  It would probably be some sort of fashion statement if I did it during the day. That makes me smile. Active coping also involves allowing myself to cry when I need to and the intense longing to touch them again, especially Mela and Kenzo. Those two were my only sudden losses and I feel like they had more life to live here, but that is likely because I miss them so very much. Sometimes they “talk” back. Not as much as when they first crossed the bridge and sometimes I really have to listen but listen I do.

My love for them is endless. Endless love really does exist. It never wanes. I feel it all of the time. My heart aches with it and there is nowhere to put it, outside of my active coping rituals. So this Valentine’s Day, I will cry for my losses but I will also celebrate the fact that I received the incredible gift of loving these dogs enough to miss their physical presence so very much. I will also celebrate having Meri in my life now. Love them all fiercely while they are still in your physical presence. Every day counts. But when they do cross the rainbow bridge, love them the same then as well, as they *do* feel your love when they are gone from this realm, and they want you to feel their love right back at you.

The beautiful banner art used here, that was commissioned for me by Cameo Anderson, shows that she knows this as well and was inspired to create it exactly that way. No one asked for the words that she wrote. She chose them. I choose to believe that my dogs inspired them. I thank them and her and my friend Jim, who commissioned the piece for me to try and help me heal. I will always cherish this beautiful gift. This is also part of my active coping as I think it was intended to be. So today on Valentine’s Day, celebrate those you love, both in this realm and beyond.

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Kenzo: A Love Story

Kenzo: A Love Story

Kenzo, my love, my Boo: April 20, 2012-June 15, 2022

“Where do I begin to tell the story of how great a love can be, the sweet love story that is older than the sea, the simple truth about the love he brings to me, where do I start?” (Lyrics from the song Love Story, in the movie of the same name.)

Kenzo as a puppy

Kenzo as a puppy

There is so much to say but there are no adequate words to truly say how much this dog means to me and how much I love him and how much I will miss him every second of every day. He came into my life at a very dark time, when I, Siri and Trent were still deep in a dark depression over losing Merlin in September of 2011 and then Kera passed on June 1st of 2012. His “little” furry self was plopped into my arms by my dear friend Jackie, his breeder, with deep gratitude on my part. He was her gift (with permission from me), to help heal our hearts. You can read all about that here in Meeting Kenzo!  His sweet kindness and his sense of humor lightened our pain and enabled us to move forward towards the light again. Our little family was able to smile and laugh once more.

Fast forward to April of 2015 and Siri passed away at 13-1/2, leaving us in sadness again but with my boys by my side, we forged on. I, Kenzo, and Trent even drove all the way to the tip of the coast of Maine together that fall and had an amazing adventure. But we were feeling incomplete and a bit lost. That November, Mela caught my eye on a found dogs site. She joined our family just before Thanksgiving of that year. She and Kenzo played beautifully together until my poor Boo busted his first ACL in January of the next year. But we were still very happy together.

Kenzo (right), mom Nova on left

Kenzo (right), mom Nova on left

Then Trent crossed the bridge just after Thanksgiving of 2018 at 14-1/2. and it’s been just Boo and Mela since then. We felt complete. Oh, I occasionally thought about adding but I never had a dog catch my eye. But then she was ripped out of our lives suddenly on Valentine’s Day of this year at only about 7 years of age. And it was far too soon and so suddenly, leaving only he and I, and we were crushed. We tried but never seemed to fully feel normal.

His enjoyment of many things seemed to wane quite a bit initially, but he bounced back more quickly than I did. I did my best to not break down in his presence, saving my tears for in the car between clients and when upstairs, either in the shower or getting the bedroom ready for the evening before heading back downstairs for evening cuddles with him, having ice cream and me having tea and a book, then me curled around his back while he rested on his bed in the living room. During our outings, and even when out in our own yard, it became obvious that he had been motivated to be more physically active by Mela’s endless energy, and that was now gone. There was no Mela crittering while he watched with interest, while lying in the yard, making sure that the neighbors behaved themselves.

I threw everything that I had into keeping him healthy. He had laser therapy every week to ten days, the chiropractor visits 40 minutes away bi-weekly and acupuncture once a month. His appetite never waned. He was my biggest joy, with his always gentle nature and obvious love of life and thorough enjoyment of food and all things edible. His adorable sense of humor made me smile so many times throughout the day. He would throw his head around and “bitch” when I came home while I inhaled his scent with my face in his fur, laying on the floor by his side while rubbing his chest. Our re-connections were one of my favorite parts of my day. Similar to when we said good morning. His “purring” when I kissed him as he stretched his limbs out to greet the day and then threw his head sideways in a sassy “good morning” warmed my heart. His favorite activities included: sniffarris in the park and in the woods; walking/laying in creek/ocean/lake water; laying in any grass and watching the world, whether it be humans or wildlife; and of all nature, he loved snow the most, laying in it, eating it, walking in it, etc.; searching through his snuffle mat; his evening doggie ice cream followed by bully bites; his daily afternoon “alley walk” was usually joyously embraced; he rejoiced in riding in the back of the Armada, like the king he was; “borking” at the neighbors when exiting the back door to his yard “kingdom”; sniffing out groundhogs on our walks; laying in the yard and listening to the world outside of our privacy fence.

Kenzo's favorite weather

Kenzo’s favorite weather

As time went by, I noticed that his bark seemed different sometimes. It went back and forth, and I dismissed it as drainage, like my allergies gave me. But then I came across the term laryngeal paralysis, and he got tested for it and it was confirmed that he had a mild case. It took him nearly a week to recover from what was a mild anesthesia, but he had such a sensitivity to stronger ones, that it was thought that a mild one would be fine. His body handled it but he was sensitive to stress and I feel awful that I stole a week of emotional good feeling for something that never was able to be addressed further, when he was struck down with liver cancer such a short time later. I had asked for a referral for tie-back surgery to see if that was a viable option, but he didn’t make it to even having the appointment scheduled.

The universe decided that I needed further trauma in my life and just about three short weeks after his diagnosis, after a perfectly normal evening with all of our normal togetherness and happiness, he was suddenly acting “off”. He sometimes was a bit dramatic with wanting me to get into bed (instead of on the floor with him when it was warmer) so that he could stretch out where he wanted and go to sleep so I did but I was a bit chastising, and I so regret that now. He kept moving around and he could not get comfortable so I started to worry that he might be bloating so I got up to look at him and he looked “off”. I asked him if he wanted to “go to the doctor” He knows what that means, and he immediately got up. We arrived at PVSEC at just after midnight and they took him right in. I waited hours for a phone call from the ER vet, which finally came at about 4AM. She said he either had cancer or a systemic infection and that I had to decide what I wanted done. Her bedside manner was atrocious, and I was feeling punched in the gut further. I told her that I wanted whatever it took but we agreed to some bacteria drawing and X-rays to start with. Another call when that was complete, and it became clear that he needed admitted and a hefty deposit would be required. She was leaning towards systemic infection, again with an atrocious bedside manner. While not an easy to “fix” diagnosis, it was the better option.

Kenzo's last walk in the park

Kenzo’s last walk in the park

I frantically tried to get my Care Credit limit raised (successfully) and reached out to friends for assistance with the deposit. The help that I received was humbling and I will forever be grateful. I was told to go home around 7AM and that “no news was good news” and “please don’t call before 10AM”. At only around 10:30 AM, I answered the phone with my breath held. This critical care veterinarian was much kinder and more forthcoming with information but unfortunately, it was not good news. An ultrasound revealed multiple liver tumors with mets in his abdomen. The prognosis was not good, even with surgery, for which with his sensitivity with anesthesia would be very concerning. I was given the option of allowing him to cross the bridge there, proceed with surgery and maybe lose him on the table or take him home and help him cross at home with an in-home vet. I chose the last option. Losing him on the table wasn’t a chance that I was willing to take and having to say goodbye to him in that setting was just too much pain. So, he left this world far too soon at home, with my arms around him, in the same room that Mela was taken from us so suddenly.

I am now left alone and mourning my two beautiful babies at once, but I am relieved that he is free of the obvious pain and discomfort that came on so fast after a normal evening. I don’t know why the universe is so cruel sometimes but because it cannot be trusted, you must treat every single day as if it might be the last one that you spend with your loved ones. Tell them that you love them all the time. Show them that you love them all the time. Try hard to not have regrets because those regrets will haunt you so many times daily, that you will think that you might go mad. I have not been dogless since the late 90’s and I cannot think of another situation that brings me this much heartache. Your positive energy is welcome. Knowing how many lives that Kenzo touched helps greatly. I want his legacy to be forever. His was a legacy of kindness and compassion and laughter. I will try very hard to embrace that daily. But for now, the laughter is missing. Instead, I will mourn and speak endlessly of how much Kenzo meant to me.

Baby Boo, I will think of you every moment of every day with such love that will be endless. You are together with Mela and I hope that you both show me that you are here with me, watching over me.

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Later is Not Promised: Cherish the Now

Mela  --  September 2021

Mela — September 2021

November 22, 2014 to February 14, 2022

I used to tell myself most days when I was stressing badly because of work or traveling between clients on busy city highways, that as long as my dogs are healthy and alive, it’s a good day. Then my world crashed all around me when Mela was suddenly taken from our lives. Of course, it’s still considered a good day while Kenzo is alive and healthy. But he is nearing 10 years of age and at 165#, that is not young and he has health issues. So my trust in the universe is gone at the moment and I am not sure that it will ever return. I am no longer the same person and that makes me sad. As most who are reading this know, I lost my beautiful Chow Chow Mela on Valentine’s Day 2022. That is a holiday that I will never be able to celebrate again. It only means sadness and loss now. I have not been able to flip the date on my daily calendar from that day. It sits unchanging as I feel like a part of my life stopped that day.

Mela is everywhere and she is nowhere. I have put almost nothing away. I sometimes think that I am waiting for an alternate reality to be revealed and for my beloved and opinionated dog to be back in my life, without any memory of her not being here for a bit, on anyone’s part. Her leash sits on it’s hook just below Kenzo’s. Every day I pull his leash off and look at her pink one underneath. I cannot bring myself to move it. Same with her pink Freedom harness. It still lives on the same stool where Kenzo’s lives when not in use. I cannot even think about washing it without breaking down. Her Trixie Mad Scientist toy still sits in the living room, in front of the end table, half full with the only kibble that my dogs ever ate, and waiting for her to come and swat at it. I did move her bed from the kitchen floor to a folded-up spot next to the couch. That is all that I am comfortable doing just yet and that was only to not step on it multiple times a day. Kenzo stopped and sniffed it every single time he passed it for several days after her passing. Now he just walks by as I expect her scent has faded. That makes me sad.

Her toys, mostly double-digit numbers of stuffed balls of varying large sizes, are still all over the bedroom and some in the living room.

Her toys, mostly double-digit numbers of stuffed balls of varying large sizes, are still all over the bedroom and some in the living room.

I have cuddled with one in particular downstairs, a huge stuffed hamburger that is not a dog toy but rather I think for kids. I bought it for a Christmas gift from a thrift store. I had it sort of hidden (or so I thought) on a kitchen chair that is only used for storage, for days. One day, several days prior to Christmas, she walked by that chair and noticed it. She subtly slipped it off of the chair while I stood behind her at the counter and watched with a smile on my face. She started walking into the living room with it. I followed her, to see what she would do. She stopped in the hallway with it stuffed into her small perfect face, turned her head towards m and batted her eyes and gave a little wag of her curled tail. I burst into laughter and told her “go ahead, it’s yours anyway”. She ran into the living room and swung it around a bit. Stuffed ball like toys and other stuffed toys that were large and somewhat ball like were how she self-soothed. I don’t know how long I will go without picking them up. Kenzo doesn’t play with them. But they are a constant and necessary reminder of how much her life meant to us both. Every night before we settled into the living room, as I was getting the bedroom ready for bed later, she would come up and wait for my prep to be done and we would play “tug” or play “fight” with one of her balls. I always waited for her to choose which one to play with that day and how the play would go. Some nights she wanted to play tug with it and other nights, she wanted to shake it back and forth while I watched and still other nights, she wanted me to play slap her with one. Sometimes I was too tired to be too into it but most nights, I happily participated and sometimes even initiated it when she hesitated. Other times, I faked the energy to participate, because of how special that I knew this time was to both her and I. But with an incredible amount of regret and anger at myself, I remember that sometimes I was simply too emotionally spent to even do it for a moment and I just grabbed one of her balls and brought it downstairs, hoping that she would follow. Now I cannot even describe the sorrow that remembering those times, no matter how few they were, brings me. I want to turn back time and play every single time she even thought about it. Occasionally, I had to persuade her to play during that time slot but more often it was her raring to go. I miss that so much.

Now I go upstairs with my eyes down on the floor, trying not to look at where she isn’t.  Being upstairs without Kenzo is the hardest. Kenzo only comes upstairs at bedtime or if he’s terrified of thunder or fireworks and I usually mitigate those issues and prevent excess stair climbing as it’s hard on his knees. Upstairs was also where she was when I was gone, baby gated with her snuffle mat and free roam of the two bedrooms and her own relaxing sounds on the TV, that matched what was being played downstairs. No one greets me upstairs with whining for me to get there faster and little purple tonged kisses when I come home. The upstairs is so empty that it’s harder to exist up there now. She isn’t there to hop on the bed after it’s made to wait for me to get fully dressed and ready for walkies. She simply isn’t there, period.

In the summertime, she would put her adorable little paws onto the air conditioner and lean onto the window pane to bark fiercely, taking care that everyone knew that the warrior princess was at watch and no intruders would be tolerated, thank you very much. Much of the time, I found this habit was incredibly annoying because she trashed my blinds before I was smart enough to tie them higher but every single time that I came home and she didn’t bark when she heard my car pull in, I held my breath and worried that something was wrong with her. I could only let it out when I heard her waking with a bark, after I beep locked my car. Perhaps even then I suspected that she was only here with us for less time that I would have liked. Her protecting the castle ferociously was her hallmark. I would trade that any day for the silence that the upstairs now holds.

The only thing that I actually have put away so far were her meds (into the “dog cupboard” hidden) and her ceramic bowl. I could not stand not reaching for it for every meal. So now it is washed and inside a cabinet. Every moment of every day has a memory of where she should be and she isn’t there. Evenings spent with her and Kenzo relaxing in the living room (or sometimes in the bedroom when my day ran later than we would have all liked) were my favorites times of the day. Evenings are my “no electronics, it’s family time”, so I have very few pictures of these treasured times. Now I wish I had more. They are in my mind, but what if my mind forgets some of the details? I cannot bear that to happen. Every evening after dinner was (and still is for Kenzo) ice cream/chew thing time. Then they napped near me, with Mela usually wanting pets first. I loved those pets, her back leaning into my legs if I was on the loveseat or into my chest if I was on the floor. Or maybe she wanted her chest scratched. Either way, there were always pets first and then naps until we headed to bed. Kenzo always on the big bed on the floor in front of me and Mela on my left. Sometimes after pets, she laid on the huge bed behind Kenzo.

Mela, on her pup protector throw.

Mela, on her pup protector throw.

Most times, on the carpeted floor next to the bed. I always tried to persuade her to get on the bed. She always seemed a tiny bit worried about encroaching on his space but that would be the only time she was worried about such. She had no qualms about expressing her opinion to him usually and he just turned his head away like the peace lover that he is. Other times, she would briefly lay on the couch looking exquisite and timeless on her pup protector throw. I loved when she did that, but it was never for long. Most of the time, she would go to the side of the loveseat, to my right and lay in front of the door. I think that wanting to see anything coming at her was a remnant of her (hopefully brief) stray past.

Her past is likely what made her a challenging dog to live with. I have never liked easy dogs so she was a breath of fresh air, despite her idiosyncrasies. Here is how she came into our lives.  There were many challenges to overcome. She had something that I call “frustration intolerance”. I am not sure what other trainers call this behavior but it involves not knowing how to self-sooth when over-stimulated so redirecting contained frustration or over-stimulation onto a housemate (usually the least likely to fight back) or a human family member (again, same temperament) was how she let the frustration out. At first, when over-stimulated, she would bite Kenzo in the side of his face. Now Kenzo is 165# and Mela was at most, 42# and his face is furry so all she got was a mouthful of fur, as he usually turned his head. He is conflict avoidance in action most of the time. But occasionally, he got upset and fought back. It was exactly one of those times, with all of us rolling around in a creek with me separating them, in rural northern Pennsylvania on 65# secluded acres while on vacation that decided me to get her on behavior medication when we returned. I had to experiment with titrating (with my vet’s blessing, of course) very carefully as she was more sensitive to the medication than most but we found her happy dose eventually. Since she was too over-stimulated to take food rewards outside, I had to simply verbally capture her not reacting. I started with capturing her looking at things that might excite her at a distance and reinforcing that. She first switched to biting her leash instead of Kenzo and I reinforced that. I also reinforced all sniffing for displacement and she eventually was able to do that instead of biting her leash. At some point, she learned to shake off on cue as well as to sniff on cue. This did not happen overnight but it was all worthwhile. She stretched my training and behavior modification skills quite a bit and I am grateful for everything that she taught me and every moment we had together, even the difficult ones. Her trust did not come easily and handling was still an issue with many husbandry issues. It was a back and forth momentum with some progress and some backslides. Once it took her an hour for her to allow me to muzzle her to be seen at the vet’s office. But with a lot of work directed towards the dental procedure that she never got to have, the  most recent vet visit only a few months prior (with good bloodwork!) only required a minute to have her trust me to get the muzzle on. I wish I had more time to spend building more trust. I will always be grateful for what trust she did bestow upon me.

The day that she was taken from us was a Monday like any other. But I was already agitated about something I cannot even remember now. One of her behaviors that seemed to creep back in the previous weeks was her running up to bark in Kenzo’s face when he got into my SUV after she did. I “solved” that problem previously by treat tossing to her as he got in and he got treats as well once inside. She usually then jumped in her regular front seat spot and off we went to the park or cemetery. But only very recently, she had been eating the treats and then running back to snark very rudely at him as soon as he got in afterwards, after I had closed the doors. I know that behavior modification progress is always back and forth but she had been great for so long, it was surprising. But that doesn’t stop me from feeling like a mama bear about it. That day she was snarkier and I was frustrated. He was very sensitive to that sort of thing and she had been so good for so long and his arthritis was making him be more vulnerable sometimes. Now I feel that perhaps her backslides on some behaviors were perhaps a symptom of whatever took her from us later that day. I wish that it occurred to me then but I am not sure that calling my vet and telling her that Mela was being extra rude that day would have resulted in a productive visit. Mela was known to be Mela. I try and console myself with this but it’s still a process.

We went to the park and had a nice walk, but she was pulling much harder than usual. Now Mela could probably pull a full-size pickup on a good day, but it usually didn’t last the entire walk. So again, my irritation at her, not outwardly obvious but there and enough to instill guilt for the balance of my life. Getting back in the car to leave that day, I realized that Kenzo had a small poop accident (first time ever in the car) so I cleaned up as best as I could and folded the blankets down so that the mess wouldn’t spread. But of course, this didn’t help my mood. Leaving the park, we encountered a stoppage at the part of the park loop where some reconstruction was taking place. Several dogs walked by, and she launched herself in the back of the SUV and barked at them. All in all, pretty normal for her. And not normally something that I would dwell on as she would simply come back up to her seat pretty quickly most times. She sometimes remained in the front seat to whine and bark mildly and sometimes she went to the back. She always got food rewarded for maintaining her place. But this day, she stayed back there and she was taking it out on Kenzo instead of just barking at the dogs outside. Again, he just turns his head, but he doesn’t deserve that. I yelled at her. I am incredibly sad about that now. I console myself with the fact that they have heard me yell a lot over the years (we live in the inner city) and it’s nothing to them and usually isn’t directed at them anyway, but I still wish it hadn’t happened. Finally, we got to a point where I could attach her harness to her tether in the front seat. It was all good again. We went to the grocery store and went home. I cleaned Kenzo and the car up and loaded up the laundry. I did meal prep (they eat home cooked) and gave them lunch. They settled down for a nap on the kitchen floor next to me. A normal Monday afternoon as that is my admin day. But my mind was still somewhat resentful towards her extra behavior earlier, though there was no outward signs of that she would have detected. Kenzo on his bed and Mela between her bed and a rug that she sometimes used as a bed instead of her actual kitchen bed just a few inches away. Three hours went by. I was just about to send the last summary and take them for their second but individual walks down the back alley. They loved that short but solo walk. Then this happened. The short version is that she let out a terrible sounding cry. I rushed to her, thinking that I would be consoling her out of a bad dream but as I cradled her in my arms, thinking that I was surprised she was allowing that, she arched her neck and let out a breath and that was her last. My screaming could have been heard for a mile. I called my vet crying hysterically and rushed her there but I knew that she was gone. Our lives are forever changed now. Instead of settling happily in the living room with my 2 perfect Valentine’s, after dinner celebrating with some doggy ice cream and bully bites, I was consoling Kenzo and crying so much that I vomited.

Mela was scheduled to get a dental extraction (and cleaning) just two days later on February 16th. I was terrified of this and had asked to push it out a bit but was told that pushing it out would mean June and all I could think of was what if her tooth was hurting her and removing it would help her feel more comfortable overall? So I stuck to the originally scheduled date and grew more and more worried. Mela was scared at the vet’s office and for her, scared meant that she lashed out angrily. She has always had to be muzzled but prior to having a vulva rash/infection several years ago, could be restrained by me and examined with even getting bloodwork being undramatic, as long as I was holding her. But that discomfort of that rash/infection changed everything and she would fight even being held by me, making it dangerous for everyone present, even with her muzzled. So, while I had taught her some solid husbandry things, outside of a quick vaccination after muzzling, she always had to sedated for thorough exams after the vulva incident. I could hardly bear the thought of her there at the vet’s office without me, even though I would be present initially when she was sedated. I felt like I would be betraying her. All I can think about now is did the universe take my beautiful little girl ahead of this dental procedure because although traumatic for me to lose her in such a manner, it would be less traumatic than losing her without me present, during or after a procedure that I was already feeling so frightened of? And if so, what if I had simply pushed out that dental until June? Would I have gotten the most magical gift of having my little baby girl in my life a bit longer? Only the universe can answer these questions. But my pleas for answers are falling on deaf ears. The universe doesn’t provide that kind of feedback unfortunately.  I don’t trust the universe anymore and I don’t know how to regain that trust. If you have suggestions, I am all ears, but don’t make those suggestions about any sort of religious options please.

While the Monday that we lost her was like any other Monday, aside from what happened and the strangeness that preceded it (a harbinger of what was to come?), the 3 days prior to losing her were a huge gift from the universe, again perhaps knowing what was to come? The Lemonade Conference, a virtual dog behavior conference was the previous Friday, Saturday, and Sunday so I was home with my two beautiful dogs for three glorious days when I would normally have been working. That meant that even though I was watching presentations, they were next to me in the kitchen relaxing and there were longer walks at more relaxed venues such as the park, than there usually were on those typically my busiest of workdays. There was no coming home late and tired on my part and there was extra energy in our afternoon “alley walks”.  When my presentations were done for the day, my workday was as well since I could answer email inquiries during presentations, so we retired to the living room earlier than on workdays. I will forever be grateful for those days. It makes the Monday that followed a tiny bit easier to swallow, knowing that I got those special extra minutes with her when it would not normally be the case.

I realize that there really isn’t anything instructive for other on my part by writing these words but I have to get them out, if only to show the world how very important Mela’s life was and to purge some of the anguish that is inside of me. If you are still reading, you are very kind and I thank you. I have never before lost a dog so suddenly and completely unexpectedly like this. It feels drastically different than losing one to old age/illness, when one has time to prepare a bit. It feels like my relationship with her wasn’t allowed to be completed and I hope that one day, I will get to tell her how very much I love and miss her every single day. I hope that she is hanging out here in another form that we cannot truly see and she knows this already. I also hope that we all get to be with our lost loves again in another realm and see and touch them again for real. Until then, I will talk to her (and my other lost loves) daily. And I will leave you with this. Never ever take for granted “later”. I thought that there would be a later that day for us to reconnect. Later was stolen from me. Cherish the now. You never know whether you will have to live with the pain of being frustrated with someone you love. I know that’s just being human but it hurts incredibly badly all the same. So cherish the now please. For Mela.

 

I have decided to add some grieving resources that friends were so kind to provide. We all grieve differently. Maybe these will help someone else:

Grisha Stewart’s musings on Peanut’s loss

Grisha Stewart on mourning

Pet Loss and Bereavement Group

Rainbow Bridge Grief Loss and Grief Support

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United in Grief: Our Intense Love of Dogs Brings Us Together Online

United in Grief: Our Intense Love of Dogs Brings Us Together Online

Losing a dog to the inevitable Rainbow Bridge is hard enough. Losing a young and assumed to be healthy dog to a very sudden and unexpected passing on what was an otherwise normal day, is jarring at best but truly closer to soul crushing. Only other dedicated dog parents know the depth of the grief that grips us when we suffer such a loss, even when that loss is expected, such as with old age or illness. I have written about the beautiful support that the internet has previously provided when I lost my beloved Siri. Siri’s passing was of the expected variety and simply a matter when. After all, her health had been failing and she was nearly 14 years old. For a very large dog, that’s epic. Expected doesn’t equal welcome though and grief is still huge when the love is so great, as it always is. You can read about that experience here.

I am no stranger to having my dogs pass away but until now, it’s always been of age/illness related complications. Only my first dog, a Pekingese Chihuahua mix named Samantha passed away suddenly, but shortly after an operation to biopsy her liver. She was 12 years old though and had already lived a long happy life. That fact didn’t change my trauma over losing her so suddenly and without my presence, but it’s somewhat easier to console yourself when you have been honored to share so many years with a dog and there has been a preceding illness.

On Valentine’s Day of 2022, my dog Kenzo and I suffered the very sudden loss of my/our beautiful Chow Chow Mela. It is thought that she had a stroke/aneurysm or heart attack, as she woke up very suddenly from a nap, nearby me where I was working on my computer, and made the most unearthly cry. I immediately rushed the 3 or 4 feet to her to comfort her from what I thought was a bad dream, but she arched her back and passed away in my arms, on my kitchen floor. It was a moment that will forever replay in my mind. I cannot think of this without scrunching up my face into the beginning of an incredibly ugly cry. Maybe someday but not now, not soon, with the feelings so very raw. When I got home from the vets, where I immediately rushed her to, hoping to revive her, I couldn’t say anything more on my own timeline, other than that Mela had very suddenly passed away. I was in shock.  I shut off my electronics and huddled with Kenzo, who had been present and mere feet away and “knew” what happened. I think he thought that I would come back with Mela all good from the vets and that didn’t happen. We were both so incredibly sad. I barely remember that evening now. Just the incredible pain that I think that we both felt, amidst the shock.

While I was screaming “no” at the universe, before heading to the vets, he hurried into the living room, clearly scared of what was going on. I carried her to my vehicle and then reassured him that I would be back and drove like a fiend there, knowing already that it was too late. My vet’s staff was wonderful and rushed out immediately, as I had already called them. But she was gone. We will be mourning for quite some time. I will tell the story to honor her life, which was so very important.  I am still trying to find all of the right words to show how very important her life was for her story. But this story is about what happened immediately after our devastating loss.

The next morning after this crushing loss, after not even being able to keep coffee down and less than an hour of nothing that I would be so generous as to call sleep, first making sure that Kenzo was fed, I wrote this post on Dogspotting Society (written first on my own timeline/Instagram and Facebook business page, also widely supported), but then edited for public viewing for the Dogspotting Society Group on Facebook.

A wondrous and beautiful thing then happened that went a long way towards helping me cope and far surpassing my wildest expectations of support. My goal at the time was badly needing and wanting to share my love for Mela and my intense trauma and have people know how very important Mela’s life was. But it became so much more. The rush of love that I received both in the DSS group and on my own timeline and business page, was something I will cherish forever. With the DSS post, there were over 12,000 reactions, more than 2500 comments, nearly 60 shares, and nearly all of those comments, etc. supportive and helpful. Villa Stokroos send me a lovely video to help me cope, featured here below.

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Tammy Dolby Tobac created these two lovely graphics above for me.

Erin Nicole reminded me that Chow Chows overwhelmingly enjoy being a bit (if not more than a bit) contrary, snippet here DSSEditedscreenshotErinNicole

(all used with permission). I also got 3 new Facebook friends from this sharing of love and support and that means a lot to me. All of this  was more helpful to my state of mind than I can ever possibly express. Having so many people cry and feel my loss with me was very cathartic. I also want to state to anyone reading this post, that if you commented on my DSS post and I did not react, then it was only Facebook algorithms that did not allow me to see them all. I tried to keep up but there were so many and Facebook did not allow me to click all the way back. But please know how much ALL of your support meant to me. You are all wonderful to take time out of your day to help someone cope.

I don’t want to minimize the support from those I know, both in real life and on the internet, on my own timelines, business page, and Instagram feed. That support was also badly needed and greatly appreciated. I received hundreds of words of comfort, as well as cards and even a beautiful floral bouquet delivery that is still alive 4 weeks later, honoring my beautiful Mela. But I wasn’t as surprised about that support as I was by the support of perfect strangers who held space for my pain. You are ALL appreciated.

I was terribly sad and surprised to learn that far too large a quantity of dog parents have experienced a loss nearly exactly as I described. I would never wish this experience on anyone who loves a dog, let alone the sheer quantity of people who have had this same heartbreak. I don’t know if there is anything that can change this in the future, but I sure hope that I have already had my share of this experience, so that I never get to be a repeat member of this tragic club.

The internet can be an amazing thing. I am 100% sure that if we had been discussing any other topic, dog related or otherwise, from the controversial to the benign, arguments would have been far more abundant than agreements. But everyone who chose to participate in my post, shares one very big trait: they love their dogs fiercely, so they understand how much it hurts to lose them. We all want forever with our dogs. This is something that brings us all together.

Thankfully, only a very small handful of people chose to be pedantic instead of supportive: three corrected my medical knowledge and three more “diagnosed” my dog’s reason for passing and two shares, (probably the same person, I hope) painted me as the bad guy because I admitted in my post that got frustrated with my sometimes challenging dog that day. I am human and believe me, I will carry that burden forever. But all the same, I know in my heart that Mela and I had a wonderful relationship, and I can assure anyone that Mela likely got frustrated with me far more frequently than I was ever frustrated with her. She had rules and I “violated” her rules probably as much as she tested my parental boundaries. I console myself with the fact that my beautiful little warrior loved nothing more than a good battle. She would have been at home in a context of guarding the castle walls and relished every attempt to breach such. I want to think of her doing just that and waiting until the moment that we will meet again. I miss her so.

Until that day (and beyond), I will cherish forever, how very much Mela was the reason that more than 12,000 people came together for her memory. We need more of that kind of internet. Dogs truly do have the capacity to create more bonds than conflicts. We need those bonds. Please be kind when possible, to those with whom you engage with on the internet. You never truly know what they are going through. And you never know what kind of an effect you will have on them. I am grateful for those who chose to share my grief with their love and kindness. Thank you and I will pay it forward. You are forever in my heart with gratitude.

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