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Posts Tagged loss

And Then There Were None: Losing Trent, the Last of my Original Crew

No loss is easy, even as you anticipate its impending nearness. It’s still jarring and it rips an open wound into one’s soul. Even worse is a sudden change. There’s little time to prepare for the inevitable. The stark differences in every day life are there to remind you every second of how your life has changed so much.

Trent was my 14 year plus year-old Pit Bull mix, whom I had shared my life with since he was just over one year of age. He was my accidental dog. A former boss of mine came to me with the sad story of her granddaughter’s allergies to the puppy her son had for nearly 6 months. She loved this puppy, named Guido at the time, but her skin didn’t. I referred her to someone I thought that I knew well, who ran a rescue. She took Guido in and renamed him Tony. Tony was a lovely 6-month-old brindle Pit Bull with what was supposedly a sweet disposition. I saw endless pictures of the 3-year-old child with her Guido. None were concerning.

Said “rescue” friend turned out to be in over her head and was basically warehousing dogs who were spending endless hours crated in their own feces. I was horrified. The shelter that I spent double digit years volunteering at sent their humane agents in and the dogs were seized. I asked to have Guido/Tony turned over to me, since I was responsible for sending him there. At the time, I ran a Doberman rescue, so I thought I would place him through said rescue. My dogs greeted him just fine. They were used to dogs rotating in and out our house. Kera especially seemed to enjoy playing with him, which wasn’t typical for her with new foster dogs. I renamed him Trent. Tony was not a suitable name for this sleek shiny boy. Trent bonded with Siri the most since, they were closest in age, for every day BFF status, but played well with all 3 of my personal dogs.

As time went on, it appeared that Trent had some quirks, such as extreme leash reactivity towards other dogs. I assumed that it had developed in his time in “rescue”. I worked on this as much as possible, but it became clear that he was not going to be able to be placed in a normal dog parent home. I did not want to take the chance of a Pit Bull being in the news for the wrong reasons, so I committed to keeping him.

Trent actually did fine with other dogs off leash in my house. He just looked like a raging Tasmanian devil on a leash when another dog was in sight, even at a great distance. I had Doberman after Doberman rotate through my doors and Trent was great with all of them. He and Siri especially enjoyed when we dog sat for a brindle Great Dane puppy belonging to a friend. They looked like one dog with many limbs when they wrestled and rested.

Trent and I got along just fine. I loved him, and he loved me but we never shared the same bond as I did with Merlin, Kera and Siri. He sought affection from the dogs first, though I spent many hours laying on the couch with him and Siri wrapped as one, leaning on me. He was very social with any human who came to visit and changed a few minds on the subject of Pit Bulls. He was definitely a lover.

When Merlin was battling cancer, Trent watched over him with a keen eye, just like Siri did. Kera was starting to lose cognition so she was less aware, but Trent always made sure that Merlin was safe and nearby. He acted like a mother hen. I was very proud of him. We all mourned when Merlin passed but Trent wasn’t showing interest in eating dinner the next few days. I had to tell him that Merlin would want him to eat. He appeared to think about it and consented.

We lost Kera only 7 months later. It was just him and Siri for a bit and then Kenzo came into our lives like a lightening bolt of fur to shake us all up and add life again. Siri was afraid of the furry puppy that Kenzo was. She was still suffering all of our losses. But Trent rolled Kenzo on the floor every night for a week, eliciting puppy squeals until finally Siri decided to see what all the fuss was about. She never looked back. Trent gave her the courage to live and love again. They became the 3 musketeers. It was a joy to watch.

Trent got worried as Kenzo grew larger than he had likely ever seen a dog be. But Kenzo was (and is) a lover so he had nothing to fear. The one time that Kenzo decided to posture, at about 7 months of age, by standing over Trent, Siri immediately rose to the occasion with a big sister roar. Kenzo’s eye grew as large as the sun and he backed away to never try that nonsense again.

When Siri grew weary of life, Trent watched with concern. I think he suffered even more than I did when we lost her. They were 2 peas in a pod. For about 6 months, it was just my 2 boys. We had adventures such as a road trip to Maine where I discovered that Trent LOVED adventures. We went to Moraine State Park regularly so that my boys could hang out by the lake. And we hiked a lot in the local park. Finally, we added to the crew, a blond Chow Chow who was a stray who found herself at the local shelter, whom I named Mela. Neither boy welcomed her immediately, but Trent held his own and laid down his personal space rules and Mela respected them. The dynamics of this little family of mine were not the same as the previous fabulous foursome but we were happy.

During the past year Trent’s pace grew slower. His recognition of personal space declined. He was no longer able to jump up on the bed and refused to use the dog stairs. I put him on CBD oil for mobility purposes and he also grew a bit more alert for a little time. He still went on daily walks and mostly kept up and sniffed with the best of them. But in the last 6 months or so, he stopped coming upstairs to lay on the guest bed and instead chose the couch during waking hours. He stopped coming upstairs to see what Mela left in her snuffle mat when I got home from clients. He didn’t seem interested in our training games. He always ate well, and his housetraining remained 99% intact. So, it was easy pretend that he would last forever. After all, he turned 14 in August and although slower, he was still doing the important stuff as usual.

At his last vet visit in June, we decided to put him on Rimadyl. It was a great decision. He was clearly much spunkier and enjoying his walks even more than he already did. It made me happy. But I would be lying if I did not mention that his cognitive decline had made life much more annoying for all of us. The circumstance that decided that he would have to sleep in the “doggy condo corner” of my bedroom on the twin bed that was part of the dog beds there was because he had taken to stomping around the bed in the middle of the night and once jumped off of the bed in the dark onto Kenzo. Needless to say, that didn’t go well. He no longer recognized personal space boundaries and would walk straight at the other dogs when engaged in something that used to be obvious should not be interrupted such as a meal or pottying. His hearing was selective, and he tried to bite me frequently for trying to physically help guide him up the steps or onto the couch safely. He nearly walked straight out of my very high vehicle numerous times while I was trying to get the steps out, so I had to constantly make sure that he stayed in while I got them out. He would bound across the bedroom randomly when we first got up, straight into the other dogs with no recognition that this might not be a good idea. As with all seniors of any species, when he wanted something, he wanted it right then.

Because of this, I was more impatient with him than I should have been, more frequently than I was for his entire life until recently. I will likely be beating myself up about that forever. I tried very hard every day, but I wasn’t always successful at hiding that impatience. After all, I though he would live forever. I cannot even begin to describe the pain this brings my soul.

We had a lovely Thanksgiving Day. Trent managed to get his collar off again during our walk, which made that the second time in about a month. We walked in a local cemetery that day as we had the last time he lost it. But this time, the tags were not on as he had also managed to somehow loosen those in my house and I had them. My intent was to switch to his Christmas collar the day after Thanksgiving and add the tags then. But I never got the chance.

The day after Thanksgiving started like any other, aside from Trent seeming more wobbly than usual getting out for first potty. I noticed but not as much as I should have. Then when I went to bring him his breakfast, he wouldn’t get off of the couch and he was heavily panting and clearly in some kind of pain. I could not tell exactly from what, but it was a look that I recognized from the day that Siri passed, the end of life organ failure look. I was frantic. I needed him to eat in order to take his Rimadyl. I wanted to see if that helped but he would not swallow anything that I tried to give him. I called the vet. They said to bring him in in a couple of hours if he wasn’t better. He was a small amount better in that he could walk without falling but he was still panting and in pain. I made the decision to help him cross the bridge that day. I waited too long with Kera and I never forgave myself for that. With Siri, she passed on her own at home in my arms, but I still wonder if I should have given her peace from any suffering sooner. I didn’t want that to happen with Trent. I took him in and gave him some treats that he ate and held him sobbing my soul out while he crossed the bridge.

The next day, we went the same route on the walk that Trent had lost his collar, in a desperate search for it. I asked the universe and Trent to guide me to it. Halfway through I was starting to lose hope. Then we rounded the bend and it was there, laying in plain sight in the grass. I was so happy to have that collar back, it felt like Trent has made sure we would find it!

The losses never get easier. Despite my relationship with Trent not being the same as with my other original crew — Merlin, Kera and Siri — his loss left a huge hole in my heart. I cried for about 3 days straight, nearly non-stop. I am still mourning of course, Christmas without him was very hard. A few days after Trent crossed the bridge, first Mela on one day and then Kenzo, the following day, slept in the exact same spot on that twin bed in the doggy condo corner that Trent slept in. They have never done that before those instances and they have not repeated that since then. It felt like they were honoring him. They both stretched out in such a way that I don’t often see them do elsewhere. They both looked pleased. It was nice to see.

Part of my life is gone now and that makes me sad. I don’t know what the future holds but I like to think that every dog that I have shared my life with has taught me something about how to be a better person. I hope that the lessons that Trent left me with are more patience. I will do my best to honor him by cultivating that quality. Thank you, Trent, for sharing your life with me. I hope that someday I can be the person you wanted me to be. And I hope that you are free of pain with your “siblings” smiling in happiness.

Tags: dogs, loss, loss in the multiple dog household, multiple dogs, pit bulls, rescue, senior dogs

Posted in: Projects

The Search is On? Adding to the Crew

I have a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that I only have two dogs. This is not a scenario that has existed in my life for almost twenty years. The grief is still very fresh. It’s also compounded by what I view as the end of a huge part of my life with the three dogs that taught me so much more than I could ever begin to pay them for. The lessons were abundant and endless and life changing. I feel lost in a world that changed far too fast for my tastes. When I lost Merlin and then Kera just nine short months later, this house was in a sad state of depression. Siri, Trent and I had lost our zest for life. There was little laughter and fun. There was no inclination to smile. Adding Kenzo to our life was a survival necessity. We needed laughter and smiles to move forward.

A similar scenario is unfolding in my life just three short years later. Every day brings multiple reminders of my new two dog life: counting out only two vitamins to add to the daily rations, grabbing two leashes off the hook rather than three, only two bowls in the dishwasher now, I could go on and on. The biggest hole is perhaps the ability to finally sleep in my own bed after three months of couch dwelling, now that Kenzo has received the go ahead to climb steps again. But that first sleep in my sorely missed bed was bittersweet without Siri, who had shared my bed for thirteen years, all 95 pounds of her. I am still getting used to the difference.

Kenzo and Trent wonder who will be joining them.

So many tugs at my heart throughout every single day. I know this my cue to think about adding to my family again. Trent and Kenzo are reluctant to play now. They actually have been this way since Siri started declining about six months ago. She wasn’t able to participate so they just stopped trying. Kenzo wants to but Trent has always had Siri on his side, keeping Kenzo in check should he need it. Please don’t misunderstand me. That is certainly my job as well, as the parent here but for play purposes, Siri made sure that Trent felt safe. Kenzo never did anything inappropriate. It is his sheer size that worries Trent so he almost always waited until Siri got him into a comfortable play mode and then Trent joined in. Without her to set the tone, he isn’t accepting Kenzo’s play invitations. Not that Kenzo can actively play right now anyway. He has another five weeks to go before that is on the menu. But Kenzo has always been very good at handicapping his play for other dogs. He lays down and lets them basically play on him but Trent isn’t terribly good at that without a partner to guide him.

So we need a new playmate in this house. When Kenzo gets cleared for more active play, my search for the right female will become official. Right now, it is just casual, with an eye towards what we need. I have mixed feelings about this. I don’t want to put my memories too far behind me. But I don’t want to dwell all the time either. I want to hear laughter and play sounds in my house again. I want my dogs to roll around happily in my yard and share toys and feel comfortable and bonded again. I want my family as whole as I can make them again ASAP. Short enough order, right?

In order to avoid having all sorts of available dog listings sent to me, let me clarify what my goal is. I am looking to add a Doberman to my life again. Female only, probably under five years of age, color, ears, tails don’t matter though I won’t deny a special fondness for those who are black/tan or fawn/tan though. A mix is a possibility. Even other breeds such as Rottweilers or German Shepherd Dogs are a possibility. I will know when the right dog shows up in my consciousness.

Of course, our new girl MUST be wonderful with other dogs. All else I am willing to work on but I refuse to compromise on dog sociability in my own home, especially at this time in our lives. Let’s not forget to mention that local to me is important and for those who don’t already know where that is, it’s the Pittsburgh PA area. I will keep you all posted and I am sure that Siri will help lead the right dog to use just as I am sure that Merlin brought Kenzo into my life. So please resist the urge to send me every dog in need. 

Feel free to share how you chose your addition in the spaces below.

Tags: addition, Adoption, behavior, dogs, grief, household, how, interaction, loss, many, memories, multiple, multiples, owner, play, positive, rescue, search, too

Posted in: Projects

The End of an Era: Losing Part of Yourself

My heart is broken once again. I have lost another love so dear to me. On Friday, April 10th, not long before midnight, my beautiful sweet 13 year old Siri passed away in my arms. I have written about her struggles recently. Aging is a harsh reality that loving dog parents would prefer to do without. First her mobility was compromised with increasing restrictions placed upon her body. And to add insult to injury, her brain betrayed her and allowed dementia to take hold. Dementia meds helped greatly with the latter but an ever rotating protocol of medication, supplements and other treatments could not reverse the lack of strength on her hind end.

In the weeks leading up to this moment, Kenzo and Trent showed increasing stress about her condition. It was interesting to note the completely opposite choices they made to deal with the situation. Trent chose the loner position, opting to retreat to the second floor where he knew that neither could venture. Kenzo opted to spend nearly every moment near her in some way.

After a medication error on my part a couple of weeks ago, where I accidentally gave her his Tramadol, I rushed her to the ER because of the contraindication between that medication and her brain medication. It was a confusing and chaotic time with my hysterical phone call to the ER and fast exit from the house. I returned an hour and a half later with Siri in tow, with her having thoroughly enjoyed the car ride. Upon seeing Siri be carried back in the house with the help of her harness, Kenzo promptly plopped down on her mat set up along side of her and offered a huge grin of relief.

Her condition deteriorated since that day (unrelated to my mistake) and I was torn about what to do. She was not in any obvious pain but her quality of life was so back and forth. But she smiled so brightly with any attention; it was obvious that she was still happy enough. When she started refusing most meals a week or so ago, I suspected that she would not be with us much longer. I made an appointment to have my vet see her to help me decide whether it was time and then canceled it because I wanted her to pass at home. I tried to make arrangements to have my vet come to my house but she wasn’t available for a home visit until several days later. I no sooner made that appointment then she surprised me and not only ate a full dinner but had a dessert of Wag-Gurt. The happiness that small success gave me cannot be overstated.

The next day she refused food once again and my reality set in more starkly. I started to worry about leaving the house for fear of returning to her having died alone. I tried to arrange for other vets to come sooner, without success. I was not willing to end her life in a vet’s office. I wanted her to pass in comfortable surroundings with her “brothers” nearby.

The last day of her life, I agonized about leaving for the three clients I had scheduled. I was frantic and sobbing constantly that day and could not have functioned at my job anyway. My clients thankfully understood. I spent the day lying with her on the floor. We laid on her mat and padding in the sunlight shining through my kitchen door and my sweet girl smiled all day. I had not seen her look that happy in weeks. After the dinner she refused, we moved into the living room as usual. She had trouble getting comfortable and I lay besides, her holding her close. She seemed to settle finally and then got restless again. She suddenly started moving her head to one side and with a great gasp, she went limp in my arms. She was gone. I sobbed uncontrollably while the boys slept nearby, seemingly fearful of confirming what they expected that I couldn’t accept sooner. I don’t think that I have ever felt more alone, with my two living dogs and my dead dog in my arms at almost midnight on a Friday night. But the power of social media is great. That same connection is available by texting close friends. Within seconds of my cry to the world, I had offers of immediate help from those close by and emotional support from those at a distance.

After being reassured that she would be fine overnight, I cleaned her up and covered her body leaving her head on her pillow. I surrounded her with her favorite things. I lit a candle and anointed her with essential oils. I urged the boys to pay their respects but they were not ready. They remained where they were. We slept restlessly that night.

A good friend arrived the next morning to assist with getting her to crematory. As we paused before taking her to my car, I wanted Kenzo and Trent to say their goodbyes. They both came and sniffed her and Kenzo bowed to her. A touching gesture to be sure, I wish it had been caught on camera.

My house is so empty even though it is full with my two boys. Siri was one of my original crew who started me on the path that brought me here. She taught me so much about fearful dogs. She came so far from where she started, as one of seven puppies rescued at six weeks of age, from a woman whose Rottweiler mated with the neighbor’s German shepherd. She threatened to a co-worker to drown them and that co-worker’s internet plea led to all seven of the “dwarves” finding their way to a network of foster homes, with four of the puppies ending their initial journey at my house for fostering. She is the one who never left. A dear friend has two of her surviving brothers.

Everywhere I look, I see her contributions to my life. Her “big balls” that she carried around constantly from room to room, until the last 6 months of her life, are scattered in various rooms. The products of our final months together are abundant. Laundry baskets with freshly cleaned towels and hospital pads, a full doggy pharmacy with every possible medication and supplement that could ever be needed by a senior dog, disposable pee pads by the pound, her Help Em Up harness draped over a kitchen chair where I laid it to dry after washing it that fateful night. I wanted it to be dry by morning so I could move her from her bed to her regular daytime spot. It will not be needed now. Her orange Kong, so uniquely colored and chosen just for her, will go unused and tucked away in her memory. Her ceramic bowl will not be needed. Her leash hasn’t been used in months. Even taking her with us on the car rides, it wasn’t needed. She could not walk by herself anyway.

Every moment brings another memory. So many things that I miss: how she would bark at the boys when it was time to come downstairs in the morning, her chasing me and barking when I ran around with them at the cemetery off leash, calling her Baby Button, her head tucking under my chin after sneaking a quick kiss when I greeted her after returned from working, seeing her and the boys play so vocally in their upstairs playroom, seeing her eat snow and grass with gusto, walking her with such ease because she was perfect, having her “tell off” one of the boys because they were too careless with their body awareness, how she used to bark fiercely at anyone who had the audacity to come too close to my Xterra. I vividly remember the way that she acted when Kenzo first arrived to live with us, hiding under the end table for a bit every evening until she finally came out to “put him in his place”. They were fast friends from that moment. She was once deemed imposing by a past boyfriend. She lived fully and deeply and with a zest. She was imposing. She aged gracefully and with kindness. I will miss her so much.

There are of course things I won’t miss. Mountains of laundry, worrying myself sick when she wouldn’t eat, the calluses on my hands that developed from carrying her with the harness and most distressing, worrying about whether I would come home and find that she passed away without me here. I would gladly take all of those on again to have more happy healthy days with her.

I have just two dogs now. This is foreign territory for me. Every evening, I get the supplements gathered in a small cup, to go with their breakfast. Every evening without fail, I count out three pills for each rather than two and I cry a little. Every workday I start to prepare 3 Kongs and then catch my breath, a huge lump where my throat should be. I know this will pass. But what won’t pass is how much I miss Siri and that is okay. I want to know that I loved her that much.

So many people offered me so much support. I cannot properly thank each one of you. But this particular sentiment really resonated with my soul so I share this with you all. Thank you Rachel, who so recently went through the same heartbreak, for knowing how this would help.

Aaron Freeman, You Want a Physicist to Speak at Your Funeral

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4675953

Please feel free to share your own losses below, coping strategies, remembrances, etc. And love your dogs fiercely. Every. Single. Day. Their time on this earth is far too fleeting.

Tags: aging, behavior, cognitive, cremation, death, dog, dogs, failing, harness, health, household, how, laundry, loss, love, many, mobility, multiple, multiples, passed, puppy, senior

Posted in: Projects

And Puppy Makes Three: Introducing Kenzo

This is not the hardest blog I have had to write but it’s definitely way up there. I have been procrastinating writing it in order to avoid the reality of the situation. That situation being of course, that Merlin and Kera really are gone, not just on vacation or something.

You would think that introducing a puppy into a household would be a cause for celebration. Of course it is, don’t misunderstand me, but it also brought so many feelings to the surface that I have been trying very hard to not feel. The sadness of loss is never more evident than when you are trying to fill the void caused by said loss.

To say that this household was in need of a jolt of some happiness would be a serious understatement. Puppies are nothing if not a smile made of fur. So what is the problem then, right? Well, the timing was probably not the best in the world, with Kera’s passing just a couple of weeks prior to the puppy in question turning the magic age of eight weeks.

Kenzo, the new crew member.

I had so hoped that Kera would stick around to meet little Kenzo but it was not meant to be. She liked having new life in the house. A few months before we lost her, I had a client’s Bulldog puppy for two days and she came right out to greet her with a smile. Her joy was evident.

I should back up a bit for some background information. A very dear and generous friend presented me with the idea of this precious gift to me when the mother (a rare breed) was bred. As most of you know, I have always had rescue dogs so I would not have chosen to get a breeder pup at that time. Not that it is a bad thing. Not at all but rescue was my thing then. I would have chosen to haunt Petfinder with the hope of finding the perfect new addition, when I was ready. But adding a male, which is what I wanted, would be a job since Merlin and Kera were the confident members of my crew. Siri and Trent especially would feel threatened by all but the perfect dog. So adding a puppy was an attractive (for them) thought.

When the idea of the puppy was presented to me, I was not at all ready. I said that I would consider it. I would know when it was closer to the time to make such a decision. My friend later emailed me that the puppy that she had in mind for me, who I already had pictures of by this time, had an issue with his eyes that he may or may not grow out of. They vibrated with his pulse when he was stressed. I felt, when told that, that he belonged here. Maybe that made him more of a rescue in my eyes; maybe it made him just slightly off center, like the rest of my dogs and me. Whatever the reason, it was then I knew.

But knowing and doing are two different things. Between knowing and doing, we lost Kera and a whole new set of grieving patterns emerged. Now I was not only grieving Merlin, I was grieving Kera and Merlin and a lost way of life. It started to look like I would have to make a decision to make things better by forcing a change or to stay in a state of depression that would be very easy to settle into. Change is difficult. Few people truly welcome it. It’s far easier to stay with what you know, no matter how miserable you actually are.

So Kenzo joined us, ready or not. Siri and Trent were clearly getting as used to depression as I was and I could not allow that to happen. They had not played for more than a minute or two since Merlin left us. Kera was not one to play much recently. Merlin played every night almost up until his passing. I missed that so much and I wanted play back in our lives.

At first, resentment was the primary emotion exhibited by Siri and to an extent, Trent. Trent, to give him credit, showed much more immediate interest in Kenzo, seeing perhaps an opportunity to be the top dog he never has been with the other crew members. Kenzo was properly respectful.

Siri, on the other hand, spent so much time under the living room end table that we had an emergency room visit for a pulled neck muscle. A week into Kenzo’s tenure here, with some muscle relaxers and pain medication in her system, she investigated Kenzo and found to her delight, that he welcomed her advances, in all it’s roughness. Siri has always been, along with Merlin, my crew member most fond of puppies. Kenzo brought that trait back out again finally, with a vengeance. Now she “rolls” him nightly. She is getting more exercise, something else that fell by the wayside when the playing paused.

Trent started to feel jealous that Siri was only playing with Kenzo. Trent and Siri are thick as thieves but that relationship has had some kinks when the playing halted. Siri and Trent are now renewing their mutual fondness for playing and this has helped Trent be more welcoming to playing with Kenzo.

I know that I will have to keep an eye on the interactions as far as playing goes, as Kenzo grows and matures. But things feel a lot more hopeful now. I wish that it meant that no tears are falling now. But that would not be true. Trying to fill a void caused some feelings of betrayal to my lost loves on my part. But In know that neither Merlin nor Kera would want this house to be filled with tears. They would want laughter and joy, especially Merlin, who lived his life with fun being the number one priority. So I am trying very hard to honor that desire without feeling guilty. I think he would be pleased. I think they both would be.

Tags: caucasian ovcharka, caucasian shepherd, filling the void, heartbreak, Kenzo, loss, mourning a dog, new addition, new puppy

Posted in: Projects