On Friday, May 5, our little Sadie crossed the Rainbow
Bridge.
This is the fifth Dachshund we've lost in 6.5 years.
Let that sink in.
Our fifth dog in 6.5
years.
That is a lot of heartache.
When we adopted Sadie in October 2014 at the age of 12, we
had no idea how much time we would have with her. It turned out to be a little more than 2.5
years.
That might not sound like much. And in the grand scheme of time, I guess it
isn't. But for us, it seemed like a lifetime.
We called her Lucky Number 7, not only because she was our
seventh dog, but because we hit the jackpot with her.
She was, in almost every sense, the
Anti-Dachshund. She was quiet and
gentle, she didn't bark, she wasn't afraid of meeting new people or other dogs,
and she happily let anybody and everybody pet her. She was so calm all the time! Someone at the
door? No reaction other than a wagging
tail.
She was a breath of fresh air and seamlessly transitioned
into our herd.
Her backstory was not entirely clear. The information we received about her was
that she'd basically lived on a porch – her basic needs were taken care of, but
not much else. When she first joined our
family, it was apparent that she'd never really been loved – she was awkward
when we tried to hold her and hug her – but it did not take long for her to
learn to love being held and cuddled. We
don't know what kind of bed she ever had, but she had her choice of comfy
places to sleep at our house, and watching her go from bed to bed to bed before
finally choosing one, climbing into it, settling in for a nap, and expressing
the world's most contented sigh never, ever, ever grew old.
She wasn't quite sure what to make of car rides at first, but she learned to run to the door excitedly after Maddy and Ginny whenever we mentioned the c-a-r word. It was so cute!
We had to teach her that bedtime meant
sleeping in the "big bed" with us alongside her sisters, and it took
a few nights for her to feel comfortable, but after that, she never looked
back. And she loved soft fuzzy blankets,
so those are all over our house as well.
I like to think she spent her final years living in the lap of luxury.
She really was very gentle, never baring her teeth or
growling at people. Only once did she
ever bite someone, and the lucky recipient of that bite was me. She was choking and I grabbed her and stuck
my finger down her throat in an attempt to dislodge the food. She did NOT like that one bit and chomped
down on my finger with as much force as she could muster. Blood started spurting from my finger, but
she was still choking while thrashing around in an attempt to escape from my
grasp. After a battle that lasted what
seemed like an hour but was probably 30-60 seconds, I managed to get the food
out and both Sadie and I were covered in blood from the bite to my finger. It was complete craziness, but after I
cleaned the two of us up, she gave me many kisses – whether they were a thank
you or an apology, I happily accepted them.
In terms of her health, one thing that was evident from the
get go was that she had some kidney issues, so we kept an eye on that each time
we went to the vet. One vet visit led to
some tests that revealed a large tumor on her stomach. She had surgery in January 2016 to remove the tumor, from which she recovered beautifully, and for the most part, she had no other health
scares for over a year!
We noticed that she started to slow down a few months
ago. Sometimes she wouldn't eat,
sometimes she seemed lost, and other times she shook for no apparent reason. Other times she seemed perfectly fine. We'd watched four other senior dogs in their
final months, and we knew her time with us was drawing to a close, but we
decided to just observe her closely and ensure that her days were happy and filled
with love.
We went to Tokyo for Spring Break last month and we were
worried about Sadie the entire time.
Thankfully, she was in the excellent care of my mom, but we still
checked in each day to see how she was, and while she was fine in the general
sense, there was more and more atypical behavior. When we got home from our trip, the
difference in her from 11 days earlier was noticeable. She looked so tired and frail and she pretty
much slept nonstop, waking very infrequently.
My mom offered to take her to the vet for us, which she did
on Friday, April 21, and Dr. T. basically told us that Sadie had arthritis, but
that she wasn't as concerned about that as she was about her mental
deterioration. Sadie was scared and lost
and shaking and behaving very strangely.
At the very least, she had dementia and it was more than possible that
other things were also happening in her brain.
Given Sadie's advanced age, Dr. T.'s recommendation was for us to love
her and make her comfortable, and that it would be up to us to decide when it was time to let
her go when we felt her quality of life was no longer what she deserved.
Of our other four dogs we've lost, three (Molly, Gunni, and
Duchess) were terrifying ends – panic and seizures and pain. I've harbored a lot of guilt over the years
that I contributed to that horror by holding on to each of them too long
because I wasn't ready to let go. I did
not want that for Sadie and I knew we would have to make the terrible decision
to help her cross the Rainbow Bridge.
We watched her closely and my mom kindly spent each day at
our house while I was at school so that Sadie did not have to be alone. We did everything we could to make her happy,
but it was clear that the end was drawing near.
There were more frequent episodes of her appearing to not know where she
was, inexplicable shaking, and a disinterest in eating at times, and it was
very difficult to wake her from sleep.
C and I talked about it daily, but the truth is we knew we
would never be ready to say goodbye.
Ever. I'm not sure such a thing
even exists. But as we watched her
every day, and witnessed our little girl becoming less and less like herself, we
knew we had to do what she needed, not what we needed.
While all of the dogs are "our dogs," each one has tended to gravitate toward either C or me, and Sadie definitely gravitated toward
C. She certainly loved me very much and
was constantly by my side if he wasn't home, but if he was, she usually
preferred to sit with him or follow him around.
That was one of the signs that she wasn't herself that we first noticed
– she became very attached to me and wanted me to hold her all the time, which
I was more than happy to do, but it was very unlike her. That behavior started maybe around the beginning
of the year, and was our first indication that something was not quite right.
I called the vet on Monday, May 1 on my way to school to
make an appointment. Not only was that
one of the most difficult phone calls I've ever had to make, but once it was
done, I sat in the parking lot at school and cried uncontrollably in my car for
about 20 minutes before going in to the building.
Last week passed more quickly than any week I can recall as
I counted down the hours and left school each day as quickly as possible so
that I could get home to be with her. To
say I did not want to be at school is the understatement of the year.
I did not tell my students they'd be having a sub on Friday
until the end of the day on Thursday, and I couldn't really get the words out
very well. As I cried, they came and
hugged me to comfort me, and I will always remember their kindness during such a
difficult time. I'd been keeping it
together at school all week acting like things were all right, but each evening
I would hold Sadie and cry into her fur and tell her what an amazing dog she
was.
On Friday morning, C and I sat with her and loved on her as
much as possible. Maddy and Ginny sat
with her on the couch and I have no doubt that they knew. I haven't really said much about them in this
post, but they were both exhibiting signs that they knew Sadie was not well –
sitting/sleeping with her, licking her face all time, etc. – which are things
they would previously do sometimes, but in recent weeks, it was constant. Maddy
was very mothering toward her, making sure Sadie was ok and refusing to come in the house without
her, while Ginny was very sad, curling up in a ball by herself for hours on end. I often forget that while we have had to say
goodbye to five of our pups, Maddy and Ginny have also had to say goodbye to
five of their sisters. It's
heartbreaking to think about that.
After we had our family time together, we took our girl in the car, wrapped in a soft blanket, and
made the dreadful drive to the vet. The
only thing I was grateful for was that C was with me; I had to drive Molly,
Gunni, and Duchess there myself on each of those dark days, so I cannot even
explain how thankful I was that the two of us were together with our little
gal. The whole way there we reminisced
with her about all of the happy times we'd had and told her over and over again
what a fabulous dog she was.
My mom met us at the vet and I went inside to do all of the
paperwork before we took her in. That
was awful.
But one small thing that brought a smile to my face was what
was painted on the glass door. Our vet
clinic employs some very talented people and they often have cute things painted
on the glass windows and doors – Calvin and Hobbes, Garfield, Snoopy and
Woodstock, etc.
That day, they had Pongo and Perdita painted on the door.
Others might have seen that and not given it a second
thought – two Dalmatians, no big deal.
But while C and I might like to think we are similar to a
variety of Disney couples, the reality is that we are probably most like Pongo and Perdita, in both personality and also the fact that they have lots of
puppies. We have a picture of Pongo and
Perdita hanging in our kitchen for this very reason.
I took this as a sign that we were doing the right thing because we were doing what was best for our girl.
(Side Note: If there was any doubt, when I got to school today (Monday), I changed my Disney page-a-day calendar from when I'd last been there on Thursday. What was the movie for Friday, May 5? You guessed it...101 Dalmatians. Kismet.)
Once the paperwork was done, I was told they had a room
ready for us so we wouldn't have to sit in the waiting area, so I went back
outside and got my mom and C, who carried Sadie in, still wrapped in her
blanket.
If you have read any of my other posts related to our dogs,
I've sung the praises of Dr. T. for years.
She is an incredible human being and was with me when our other three
girls crossed the Rainbow Bridge. She
was no less amazing this time, telling us what a brave and selfless act this was,
and loving on Sadie with us while we said our goodbyes. When the time came, I held Sadie in my arms,
in her blanket, while C had one arm around me and one hand on Sadie and my mom
stood by beside Sadie and sang to her.
Dr. T. knelt on the floor and cried with us.
And then she was gone.
We sat with Sadie for a few minutes and Dr. T. gave us some
time alone in the room. She looked so
peaceful that even though it was one of the worst mornings of my life, I knew
we had done the right thing to honor her and all of the love and joy she brought
into our lives.
When we got home, C carried her blanket in and Ginny ran
over to him and looked up expectantly, thinking Sadie was in the blanket. When we put the blanket on the floor, both
Maddy and Ginny sniffed it for a long time, poking it with their noses and
searching through it for her. That was
almost too much for me to handle. They
have been very quiet since Friday, and it is weird to only have two dogs in the
house. In the last eight years, four of
those have been spent with five dogs at one time, and the other four with
either three or four dogs, so only having two dogs now seems very foreign to
us.
When we fed Maddy and Ginny dinner on Friday night and we
only had to use two bowls, the reality that our girl was no longer with us
really hit me. And early on Saturday
morning, in my still-half-asleep stupor, I felt around for Sadie to check on
her before I remembered the previous day's events and sobbed.
It has been a very depressing weekend at our house. I know things will get easier. I know we will remember all of the cute and
adorable things Sadie did. I know the
happy memories will eventually replace the heartache. But right now, we are so very sad.
The last thing I'll share is her nicknames. I'm sure those of you with pets also call
yours by a variety of names from time to time, and over the years, we bestowed many
nicknames upon her. Sadie morphed into Sassy,
which became Sassafras, which became Razzle, which turned into either Raspberry
or Zazzy or Zazzle or Razzle Dazzle, depending on the day. And she answered to all of them. But I think her favorite was Pork Chop, which
is what C called her. I don't know where it
came from, but when he called out "Pork Chop!" in an excited voice,
she came running to her favorite human with her tail madly wagging.
I don't know how we got so lucky.
Here are some photos – some have captions and some don't and
some are better quality that others because some are screenshots from my
Instagram feed because that was easier that going through thousands of photos
on the computer. But all of them capture
the awesomeness that was our Sadie.
Her first night as a member of the King Family! |
A typical scene at bedtime - bed hogs |
Sadie & Chelsea |
Sadie & Chelsea |
Sadie & Chelsea |
Sadie & Chelsea |
Sadie & Maddy |
Sadie & Ginny |
Being inspected by Ginny & Maddy after a vet visit |
Another vet visit, another inspection |
Sadie in my Ellie Chair |
Celebrating Canada Day |
Her arms in this photo remind me of Roger from American Dad |
She loved rolling in the grass! |
She loved the grass and being out in the sunshine! |
Helping me with homework |
Channeling her inner Chelsea and trying my coffee |
Snoozing with her cousin Max |
Christmas Day nap with Maddy and her cousins, Kaz and Max |
Eating breakfast up on the island with me (to prevent Maddy and Ginny from stalking her) |
My brother and his gf saying goodbye to Sadie on May 3 |
In the arms of her favorite person on her last night with us |
Maddy saying goodbye on May 5 |
Final cuddle with Ginny on May 5 |
Her last car ride |
In the car on May 5 with us |
The door at the vet Pongo and Perdita |
My mom saying goodbye |
<3 |
Ginny looking for Sadie when we got home |
Searching for their sister :-( |
Tulips and the perfect card from my mom |
Sad Sisters |
I know these four were waiting for her... Molly, Gunni, Duchess, & Chelsea |
My favorite photo A boy and his dog <3 |
Happy Tails to you…
Beautiful ❤️
ReplyDelete"How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard"
Winnie the Pooh.
With great love for a perfect little being, miss you Sadie". ❤️ Grandma
šš¶❤️
DeleteThank you for sharing your beautiful story of sweet Sadie. I can relate and your story brings tears to my eyes. š
ReplyDeleteI had to make this decision for my doxie Henry Squirt, who was nearly 16. He had kidney failure and heart failure. I learned that the treatments would combat each other and each day was only going to be more difficult for him. The wonderful vet at the ER the night I decided told me something that helped me know for sure and I will never forget... "His worst day doesn't have to be his last." I knew it was time. He had a wonderful life. That little guy had back surgery at age 5 and fully recovered. He then had a stroke at age 14 and nearly fully recovered despite being a senior. He was just like you describe sweet Sadie, so docile, sweet and gentle. Very non-doxie like. š
Your story also touches me as my other doxie Minnie Bean (who is very doxie-like and fighsty!) is one month away from turning 16. When we lost Henry about a year and a half ago, she started to slowly mentally decline and visually with her cataracts. I think that loss really affected her. She is now acting confused a lot of the time, not sleeping soundly and pacing at night. She goes to the wrong end of the door hinge to go out and she gets confused in the elevator about which place the door will open. The vet is having us try the cognitive disorder drug, but after being on it over a month now, I don't see any improvements. Reading about your experience has been so helpful for me to compare Minnie's condition. Thankfully she is still eating and moving well, so I think we have some more time left. It seems to change day to day. I appreciate you sharing your story as it has helped me so much and given me more perspective. Your fur babies are blessed with wonderful parents!
Hugs and love to your family! I hope sweet Sadie and your other babies have met my sweet Henry boy. š¶šš
It is so hard to watch the confusion, isn't it? Sending you lots of love and many more happy days with your girl! Thank you so much for sharing your story with me...and I am sure Henry is happy and having fun and waiting patiently until you can see one another again someday. ❤️
DeleteAwe, thank you so much! š Hopefully we will ALL meet up across the š one day having one big weenie dog/human party! I truly believe we will all be together again one day too!
DeleteI hope your family's hearts are on the mend! That pain and loss is so hard to cope with. Hang in there!
I hope your family is continuing to heal. I said goodbye to my Minnie Bean this morning after an agonizing decision. She would have been 16 on June 6th. I hope Minnie has met your sweet Sadie!šš
ReplyDeleteOh, no...I am so sorry...my heart is breaking for you. I have no doubt Minnie and Sadie are running and playing together and waiting for the day when we will see them again. xoxo
DeleteAre we friends on IG (it is so hard to tell with everyone's username (mine included)? If so, can you send me a DM there? I'd love to chat! (And if not, my name is "momofsevendogs" if you're on IG.)
Delete