Healing After The Loss of My Dog

By Tonia C. Evans

Healing After The Loss of My Dog

Holly Dog

“Losing a pet is a profound loss, because they are with us everyday, and they know us more intimately than we know most people. For that reason it’s important to give yourself the time to rest, to be sad, to cry and reflect on the season of life we have with our beloved companions.”

“Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole.”
(Roger Caras)

Holly was my life dog. She wasn’t my childhood dog, or the family dog- she was all mine and I was hers, and now she is gone. Last Friday Holly became so sick, that I made the most difficult decision, to have her put to sleep. I wanted so badly to taker her home with me, and try the antibiotics that the doctors offered, but as an animal care specialist I knew deep in my heart that this time around, a few days of antibiotics were not going to make a difference for Holly’s quality of life. For the past three years I was providing Holly with what some would call hospice care at home. And during the past year, we were able to dodge the inevitable with new home care treatments and additional medications. On Friday, we just simply ran out of time and options. I stayed with her for a long while, and then I held her in my arms when she slipped away to heaven. I was in agony when I had to leave her there.

“…love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.”
(Kabil Gibran)

Now, I know that a lot of people think pets will not be in heaven- (who are these people? – I don’t want to know them) I believe with all my heart that Holly and all my pets will be in heaven when I arrive because “In the beginning” when God created the earth, he created animals: birds, fish and beasts of the land, and God doesn’t make mistakes. I also know that God created Holly and she was really His dog-I was just lucky enough to be her person for awhile.

Holly was an almost fourteen-year-old Chocolate lab. She had hypothyroidism, Pancreatitis, hip displaisure, sever arthritis in her joints, lumps and fluid filled bumps covering almost every inch of her body and she had seizures. In the past year she developed a tumor between her heart and lungs that made her cough and gag frequently. Even with all of her health problems, Holly was a good-natured, sweet and gentle dog that was easy to care for, and always in good spirits. When I came home she would wag her tail in excitement, eat her food, take her pills and rejoice in an upside dog belly rub session.

Believe it or not, It doesn’t console me to know she is better off and is now at peace-I am heartbroken that I have lost my friend. It’s like I keep stumbling over all the ways she was intertwined in my life.

Returning home to a house without her in it is extremely hard. The first thing I noticed was that the house was so quiet. I didn’t hear her sneaking around for cat food scraps, barking for me when she missed me-in the other room, and I didn’t hear her coughing. I simply heard the clock ticking on the wall two rooms away. The next day, I made some dinner and I instinctively put some leftovers on another plate to share with Holly, and then I realized with a bursting cry that she wasn’t there to share my leftovers. I don’t have to rush home for her anymore, and I don’t have to get up early to get her up and outside, I just have to learn to live without her-that’s all.

Within the sadness though, there are some steps that I have taken toward healing my heart. I reached out to my friends and family and shared the news with people that love and support me, and in return I received heartfelt sympathy and stories from them about Holly that I had forgotten. My cousin brought me flowers, which I used to create a small memorial in my home, adding pictures of Holly, cards and letters. Finally, I have taken some time to simply be sad- to rest, to cry and to reflect on the season that Holly and I shared over the years. She was my life dog after all.