It was my birthday earlier this week, but hardly anyone knows it – and I prefer it that way. I don’t want any well wishes of a happy day, because 2 years ago I said goodbye to my best friend the night before my birthday and forever resetting the baseline for a good day, let alone a birthday: if everyone you love is alive and reasonably well at the end of a day, it’s been a good day.
[Do not read further if you want to avoid reading about loss.]
It was the end point of months of an emotional roller coaster of supporting her through chemotherapy and advocating for her needs, and her last night was no different. She had become very scared of vets after the chemotherapy appointments, so I knew I had to advocate for her one last time to give my best friend the ultimate courtesy of leaving this world in as much comfort as possible. It didn’t matter that my heart was breaking into a thousand pieces – I had to stay calm for her.
Unfortunately, her body resisted letting go, so we needed more effort than is usually necessary to end her life, which resulted in the most traumatic night of my life. Even though she had told us at home that she is ready to leave, the fear was so overwhelming that her nervous system fought back the sedative and needed twice as much, a process which was made worse by the fact that she was trying to bite both me and the vet. In my heart, I knew I was the right thing to do, but in the moment, it felt like I was forcing her to go. (There was no other option or more time because her organs were failing her.)
I had months of flashbacks of those moments, in high definition replay almost every night I went to sleep.
I will never forget that night. When people say dogs aren’t like kids, I now think no… they’re really not, because most parents do not have to make a decision to end your loved one’s suffering and then have to play an active role in doing so, holding them while they slip away from this world so they are not afraid when they fall asleep for the last time.
Because no matter how much it twists your soul into a painful knot, you owe it to them for every moment they stood by you. It is the final act of love to let them go with in peace and supported by you – that is the true unconditional love dogs teach us.
And of course, for every door that closes, another one opens. Without Nell leaving, there would probably be no Astra or any of her siblings, so everything happens for a reason. I don’t grieve for Nell anymore because she is always here with us in both Grace and Astra, but… my birthday is now forever a reminder for what really matters in life. It’s not presents or parties – it’s those we love and share our lives with.
BusyDoggie 