August 20, 2023
Experiencing the Loss of a Beloved Pet
grief, grieving, loss of pet, dogs, cats, illness, support
Trigger warning: detailed emotional descriptions of grief and pet illnessWe love our dogs and cats (and birds, iguanas, and more) more than we ever thought possible. For many of us, it is difficult to explain to others who don’t live with animals – especially when the time comes when we have to say goodbye.
Experiencing the loss of a pet is one of life’s most painful and emotional trials. I have experienced the heartbreaking losses of many pets over my adult life. The empty place they leave is palpable and hard to describe. Suddenly, a companion who was literally by your side every waking hour is no longer within reach.
On August 7, 2023, we had to say goodbye to our very special good boy, Toki. If you have been keeping up with our blog, you know that he’d experienced several mystery illnesses and symptoms for the past year. Unfortunately, at the end of June, a new set of symptoms arose, and after a grueling journey through many ER visits and diagnostic tests, we learned that he had T cell lymphoma. We tried our best, and we even started chemotherapy, but the disease was too much for his little body to handle.
This loss has been different than those in the past for me. The sad fact of my other losses was that they were sudden and the grief I felt came on immediately and in a huge rush. The types of illnesses and old age progression we’d dealt with in the past with our cats left no room for expectation or prediction – the moments of truth were unpredictable and thrust upon us. The loss of Toki was prolonged, and I felt it a little each day as his illness progressed.
Before Toki’s final diagnonsis, we had had so many ups and downs that we thought we were in line for another set of “well let’s find something that works and go with it”. But when his very difficult and obvious signs of disease didn’t wane and we were looking at possible lymphoma, we knew we didn’t have long with him. Once his final, true diagnosis confirmed our fears, we gave it a “Hail Mary” – a shot at chemo to try to give him a good quality of life for the time he had left. His ups and downs for 6 weeks were dramatic. He was the loving wonderful dog I always knew who sometimes didn’t even know he was sick. But sometimes he was sending us to the emergency room with new, frightening signs of illness, all while maintaining his innocent, gentle demeanor.
The mourning we did while he was still alive was some of the most painful emotion I’ve ever felt. There was my little guy – the baby puppy I’d held in my arms since he could barely walk – looking to me with all the love and trust in the world; and I had to make a decision to end his suffering before it became cruel for him to bear. Every day was a guessing game. Is he getting better? Is this a symptom of illness or a side effect of treatment? Does he still want to fight or am I being selfish? The hours spent snuggling him and trying to memorize the way he felt, the scent of his big noggin, the shape of his nose, the feel of his paw in mine were priceless and excruciating.
We were fortunate to have some very good days with him. Some days, he got the sillies and begged for treats all day and wagged his body and hoarded his Kongs. On good days, his best friends came to visit him and shower him with love. My awesome mom brought him a special dinner of chicken nuggets and fries.
When the time came, we were able to have his friend and trusted veterinarian, Dr. Sam, come to our home to help us through his final goodbye. Toki was such a gentle soul – always happy to simply share his beloved Kong with his human friends and give kisses and a tail wag. This is how he was on his last night with us. His night was peaceful and loving and he was surrounded by some of his favorite people. We were at peace knowing he didn’t have to feel sick anymore.
But the aftermath has been something I have never experienced. The days that feel almost normal followed by days that are nearly unbearable. The flood of happy memories followed by self-doubt and questions. The peace that we were able to usher Toki through his last day in a compassionate way followed by the rage that any living creature should feel pain or sickness.
I don’t know what the answer is to these feelings, but I can share with you the fact that leaning on those who understand and asking for help when needed has been a necessary and important, great help to my husband and me. We are incredibly lucky to have friends who are compassionate and who have offered everything from supplies when Toki was sick to a listening ear in times that we needed to vent, to homemade food left quietly on our porch to help remind us that we have people who care all around us.
I write this emotional blog post selfishly to help myself process my feelings – but also to be open so that anyone in this position knows that they are not alone. These feelings are real, and they are extremely difficult to navigate. You are not abnormal for feeling this way, and there are people who have experienced it and want to help you get through it.
For my part, I’ve also found some help in planting a tree for my guy (which was lovingly sent to us by my wonderful in-laws), memorializing him with a memory box, and having stickers made of his beautiful face. These are just some of the things I have done that keep him in my orbit in a positive way.
If you experience the loss of a pet, don’t be ashamed of the grief you feel. Reach out to those who care. I leave you with an online resource as well, to help work through it.