Menopausal Mother

Unless you have owned a pet that you loved more than you ever thought possible and considered a member of your family, you will not understand my need to write this eulogy for my four-legged friend. I know people are not supposed to compare the loss of a pet to the loss of a human, but grief is a tricky thing. No two people experience it the same way, and it's impossible to put a degree or timetable on the pain. 

On July 12 at 1:30 a.m., we had to help our sweet pug Savi cross the rainbow bridge. As many of you who follow me on social media know, our pup became unexpectedly and gravely ill 5 weeks ago. She was diagnosed with chronic kidney disease as well as a bad gall bladder. We did everything we could for her---got opinions from four different vets, numerous blood tests and ultrasounds, made sure she had the necessary surgery (removal of gall bladder and spleen), transfusions, multiple medications, and two weeks in a canine ICU. We spent every dime we had left because the prognosis for her was good---she had an 85% recovery rate. For a while there, we thought we had a miracle dog---she bounced back so quickly, even the doctors were astonished. But last weekend she had a major setback---she stopped eating, stopped drinking, and did nothing but sleep. I knew it was the beginning of the end for her and started counting the hours until the dreaded day came. Everyone warned me that I'd know when it was time to let her go by the look in her eyes, but I refused to accept that. I was confident she was not in pain yet and would hopefully pass peacefully in her sleep. But there was still that little spark of hope in me that she would somehow bounce back again. 

She didn't. Late Monday night her breathing became hard and rapid. I held her for the longest time, and when she looked up at me, I saw it in her eyes, just like everyone said I would. She was telling me it was time. My husband and I drove her to the clinic in the middle of the night and said our final goodbyes.

Next week, we would have celebrated Savi's 10th birthday. I have lost family members, friends, and numerous pets before, but this ranks right up there as one of the most painful losses ever---maybe because it went on for five long weeks of hell. 

Savi came to us from a pug rescue group 9 years ago, and it was love at first sight. She has been my constant companion, my fur baby girl, my sweet angel. She was family. She loved to sunbathe on the deck and her favorite food was salmon. Whenever I took warm clothes out of the dryer, she would hop on the pile, roll over on her back and take a long nap. I called her my "little piggy" because she had a plump, pink belly. There were so many kisses and snuggles with her---she was the most loving dog I have ever known. Savi sat on my lap every time I plopped down on the couch to rest, and she always slept beside me in bed for the nine years we had her. I got so used to her pug snores that they actually comforted me and helped me fall asleep. Now I cannot even sleep in that bed and instead have moved temporarily into our guest room. To say that my heart is broken is an understatement. My heart is completely shattered. 

RIP Savi, I'll see you on the other side, precious girl. This home will never feel the same again without you.