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Sonny boy

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  • Your relationship to the individual who died
    CA
  • Date of Death
    9-21-2020
  • Name/Location of Hospice if they were involved:
    NA

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  • Your gender
    Female
  • Location (city, state)
    Harahan, LA

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  1. I know that "tug of war" with your heart thing. Yesterday was one month since my dog Sonny crossed the rainbow bridge. Sometimes I think that looking at pics and visiting the group or a pet loss facebook page is just me torturing myself or making myself cry on purpose and that is just keeping me in a state of grief. But then at some point I realized that doing that is helping me cope. I need to get a good cry on sometimes. It really does help me process. I started recently feeling like I've been talking about him too much to my friends because whenever someone calls me I talk about him. So I'm glad this group exists and you all talk to each other and are here for me and everyone!
  2. SteD we all do say that about our pets. And we are all correct! They do mean that much to each of us. I'm sorry you don't have a support system in your housemate. But you do here and can come any time to post or talk or read others stories. Reading others stories helps me a lot. And sometimes I find it cathartic to look at pictures of my dog Sonny and to write about him and just cry. I think it helps me process. It also helps me think of the good times so that I don't dwell as much on his last days or the last few months. We all process differently, progress differently and move forward at our own pace. You'll never forget Dex. Just like I'll never forget Sonny. It feels impossible right now to try and live without them, I know. I feel like I'm riding an emotional wave, fine one second, and then not the next. It's ok to be sad, take the time you need to grieve and mourn.
  3. thank you amboehlen - i'm sorry for the loss of your baby boy. that's a great idea and i'm happy for you to be able to move your workspace. i unfortunately do not have the space, but if i did, i probably would have done that. the grief comes in waves, some days more than others. sometimes i can sit at my desk and look beside me, picture him laying there, hear his breath and smile. other days i sit on the sofa and feel so empty and alone i have to get up and go somewhere else. i have a blanket that my friend gave to Sonny for my birthday (yes, Sonny got a present when it was my birthday) and now i snuggle that blanket and think of him, imagine i'm petting him or he's sitting next to me. and the blanket is soft just like he was.
  4. Thanks y'all for sharing and for your thoughtful words. This is why I came to this discussion group and it means a lot, and helps too. Jayjay - I have hundreds of pics of Sonny. I wish I could share them all because they do tell a great story and show how wonderful our time was together. I was able to look at some and not become a basket case this week and just smile and focus more on thinking about the fun we had and all the quirky things he did that made me happy, things I didn't think much about in the past couple years as we dealt with his health issues. And you're right, at some point they seem to just live for us and I think that's where Sonny and I were in the past four months. He had good days and not so good days, but he wasn't enjoying all the things in life that he used to, like he used to. He was winding down and our time was coming to an end and I did my best to enjoy every second, every day, and do things that made him happy. Sorry for the loss of your pug šŸ¤— I sometimes get upset that maybe I shouldn't have done the radiation because it created so many issues later in his life. But even with those issues, at least until these past few months, he was as happy as could be. Dogs are so resilient and are able to overcome obstacles in ways that a lot of humans never can. He taught me in that way, just get up and keep going. Of course it was easier when he was here, for me to just keep going. I'm struggling now. I will be forever grateful for having the opportunity to be a stay-at-home dog mom for several months. I know he loved it!
  5. Awe šŸ¤— I say good morning and good night to Sonny and I talk to him during the day sometimes for various things. He used to come into the kitchen when I cooked, so I call him when I take out something I might've shared. If I leave for the grocery I say "I'll be right back baby boy". When I would turn around and he was behind my chair, "hey cutie pie". If I was going to put laundry away... Every frivolous moment he was there, following me to every room just to be near me. šŸ’”
  6. Thank you. Sonny had more specialists than I did! When he first got cancer I had no idea there were dog oncologists. Over time he wound up with an internal specialist, neurologist, cardiologist, surgeon. The sadness just washes over me randomly, unexpectedly. It's worse when I wake up and then right before bed. I miss him so much! šŸ˜­
  7. LOL - oh my gosh, the things these doggies do! šŸ˜ The connection we feel to them, and they feel to us, is astounding and everlasting. I would do it all over again if I had the chance. I would continue to do everything I was doing if he was still here no matter how it affected my life. I think I'll always want just a little more time. šŸ˜¢
  8. Thank you for saying it gets easier. It gives me hope. I agree, I don't think there is any getting over it. My friend the other day after only a week and a half without him said "I thought you were getting better". I don't think some of my friends realize how much I'm hurting. Sonny was my soulmate, my constant companion for 14 years. He was always by my side, never judged, never abandoned our friendship, and he gave me more love and understanding than most humans.
  9. Thank you šŸ’™ It took me two weeks to the day to pull myself together enough to do this. It made me feel a little better so I am glad I did. Thanks for reading and caring. It's very hard being alone.
  10. I still keep wondering if he was ready. Why do we keep beating ourselves up over those last few days or those last few moments? I had 14 years with my baby boy, Sonny, and they were amazing. He was amazing. He came into my life when he was about a year old. He was a rescue dog, so I donā€™t know when he was born or what kind of mix he was. He looked part yellow lab and beagle, and acted part jack russell terrier. And he truly exuded the energy and spunkiness that was his own until his final day here with me. I wanted him to live forever. The vet techs used to call him the energizer bunny. He had heartworms when I adopted him. He had cancer four times, cushingā€™s disease, terrible tartar on his teeth even though he loved his nighttime brushing, radiation treatment which led to spinal myelopathy, which lead to incontinence, bladder retention, multiple UTIā€™s and kidney disease. Then he had cancer again, this time untreatable. In the last few months, he didnā€™t want to cuddle much or play, and heā€™d had an extremely reduced appetite, which was hard for me to watch because I think he lived for food. I also think he lived for me. The pandemic and work from home order was a blessing in disguise. I got to spend every day at home with him for the last six months of his life. But now it is a curse because I have to spend every day at home without him. I never felt silence before; his absence is physically painful. I see him in every inch of every room. He is a part of every big and little thing I do, all day long, from the time I wake up until I go to bed. My life revolved around him for the last two years. Every decision I made was based on his needs. I put him first and I put myself last. He needed me and I would, and did, do anything for him. I needed him too. And I still need him. I donā€™t know how to live without him. My heart is broken into a thousand pieces. I miss kissing his nose. I miss petting his soft ears. I miss burying my face in his thick, soft furry neck. I miss his frito-smelling paws. I miss his head on my pillow. I miss his big, brown beautiful eyes. I miss hearing his tags jingle. I miss him following me from room to room. I miss him licking my leg while he waited for me to finish brushing my teeth so I could brush his. I miss him laying on my yoga mat while I was trying to work out. I miss his snoring while Iā€™m working on the computer. I miss sitting on the front porch with him during lovely fall weather. I miss having morning coffee in the backyard while he wandered and barked at other dogs in the park, or just sat and people watched. I miss taking him for daily walks and visiting each of the other neighborhood dogs. I miss bringing him to my parentā€™s house so he could hang out and play with their dog. I miss stepping over him with the laundry basket because he always laid in the doorway. I miss seeing him on the bench by the big dining room window where he would look out for hours. I miss cupping his face with my hands and putting my forehead against his. I miss his eager face when I took carrots out of the fridge for his daily veggie snack. I miss petting his belly while he rolled around in the grass. I miss him laying halfway on my lap on the couch. I miss his head on my legs while we slept. I miss him licking my face, especially when I cried because I need that now more than ever. I miss hearing him breathe. I especially miss him when I come home after being gone and he was so happy to see me, greeting me with his barks and excited tail wags, spinning around with joy. I miss it so much that I cry every time I drive home because I know heā€™s not going to be there when I arrive. My family and friends loved him, and he loved them. He was always so happy when I had people over, as if they were there to see him. In the last few months, they did come over just to see him. Even the day before he passed away, we spent the day with family and fed him food heā€™d never had before. Gave him his final chances to lick our legs for as long as he wanted to. I tried to give him the best last days ever. I keep wishing I could go back and do more, did I do enough? Did I give him enough pets, hugs, kisses, love? Did I say everything I wanted to? Should I have waited one more day, or just a few more hours so I could hug and kiss him some more? Did he know how much I loved him, that I was doing what was best for him? Was he scared in those last few moments? Could I have done something sooner about the infection that took over his body at the end? Why didnā€™t I sleep on the floor with him that last night? I go through the motions of each day, even though I donā€™t want to. I donā€™t want to do any of this without him. I donā€™t want to be in this house without him, he has lived here with me since the day I moved into it. I donā€™t care about anything. Everything seems so insignificant and pointless. I canā€™t believe heā€™s not here anymore. He was my reason for living and now I have to find a way to continue without him. I tell myself that he did not save my life so that I could turn around and fall apart after he was gone. But that does not stop the sadness of his loss or pain of his absence. This is the hardest thing Iā€™ve ever done in my life.
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