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Posts Tagged ‘Pet bereavement’

A pocket full of gravy bones

Posted in Dog ponderings, Dogs, tagged , , , , , , , on September 24, 2022| Leave a Comment »

Three months after losing Bear, we’re still coming to terms with this new, ‘dog-free’ life. A few days after he left us, I started jotting down all the things that reminded me of him – and our darling Annie. So here’s my slightly random stream of consciousness as I reflect on life without Bear.

A gravy bone in my dressing gown pocket

The wee stain on the patio

A small poo on the lawn, baked hard in the sun that neither of us wants to remove

A tin of sardines in the cupboard 

Balls. Everywhere. Under sofas, in corners, behind the table leg, hiding in the long grass, in the car, in the bottom of the dog buggy, some even in toy baskets

Tennis balls, squeaky balls, balls with faces, balls found like treasure on walks, (always the best kind), balls that were wrapped in Christmas paper (bet you can’t guess what it is!), rugby balls, squishy ones, tiny ones, big ones

His harness hanging limply on the banister 

Dog beds in the back of the cars

Safety harness still clipped into the seatbelt 

Water bowl and blanket in the boot. Spare tennis ball. Poo bags. So many poo bags. 

The dog room. Can we still call it a dog room? 

Waterproof trousers, his and hers hanging on the hook. Big coats, rain coats, wellies, walking boots, spares. 

Water shoes for paddling in streams and throwing stones for woofing at

Dog walking bags – I never did find the ‘perfect’ one

More poo bags. In every single pocket

Dog coats. Rain coats, warm coats, snuggle you up after a haircut coats, dry you after a swim coats. Knitted, ‘oh doesn’t he look handsome coats’ 

Dog meds. Pills and potions, steroid chart (remember to tick off the day), emergency bum pills (don’t ask), supplements, good oils and joint pills, herbal tonics and first aid stuff

Grooming box for infrequent torture. Tick puller, soft brush, mean, unused comb, buzzy clippers for the boys to share 

Jars full of dog treats. Chewy ones, crunchy ones. 

Dog towels, (we’re down to our last 200)

Duvets and cwtch you up blankies 

Toys by the lorry load. Birthday toys, Christmas presents from Grandma toys, always in twos, one always abandoned by Annie as soon as she left, toys. 

Toys in the mending pile hidden in the wardrobe 

Bear’s toothbrush in the bathroom (are you just eating the toothpaste, Bear? Whatever works)

Lickki mat in the dishwasher. Snuffle mat by the coffee table. Pink paw game by the water bowl. Kong Wobbler in the corner (still has some treats left) 

Blankie on the sofa. Dog step with a non-slip mat (let’s leave it for now)

Baby shampoo in the bathroom for head washing. Paul Mitchel for a bright beard (fat chance) and a sweet smelling bod

White board on the landing to block the stairs, just in case

Beanbag in the lounge, commandeered for morning lounging. Slightly yoghurt stained from a Bear beard

Non slip mats trialling through the house

Beds everywhere. Bear beds. Annie beds. Beds for mornings. Beds for evenings. Beds for car rides. 

The untouched birthday cake in the fridge – 15 today! Hooray! 

Things that feel wrong:

Eating all the toast/bread/rice/veg

Nobody watching you eat 

Peeing alone (that door won’t barge itself open)

No shower monitor waiting patiently in his bed outside the door

Sitting anywhere you like on the sofa (in theory, not yet tested)

Walking (who walks without a dog? Only psychos, right?)

Working (how do you work without an office dog by your desk?)

Talking during the day (who’ll listen to me prattle on now?)

Yoga. I’m alone on the mat with an uninterrupted view of the screen

Getting up in the morning – no wagging tail to welcome the day 

Naps on the sofa. No little head on my feet, no warm furry body curled into the hollow under my chin

Leaving the house – there’s someone missing

Coming home – is this the right house?

Going out without needing to be home. Freedom is over-rated

Being home – why is this house so deathly bloody quiet? 

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Angel wings Bear

Posted in Dogs, tagged , , , , , , on July 11, 2022| 3 Comments »

Pepper and salt Mini Schnauzer sleeps on a checked blanket
Sleep tight baby boy

I’ve put off writing this as long as I can, but it’s with an impossibly heavy heart that I have to report that our darling Little Bear passed away on 22 June. It was his fifteenth  birthday.

We were meant to be celebrating. He was meant to be tucking into his birthday cake while wearing, just long enough for me to snap a picture, the obligatory, home made birthday hat. Other Half was meant to be rolling his eyes at me as I made him sing to the birthday Bear. Instead, we were saying our goodbyes.

We are beyond heartbroken. We lost Annie 11 months and two weeks before Bear, and now the house is without a furry heartbeat for the first time in sixteen years.

Rapid decline

There is some comfort in the fact that he was unwell for a very short period. Mid-afternoon the day before his birthday he started to tremble. I took him straight to our vet, who suspected a slipped disc. Doped up for the pain, we booked an appointment the next morning for a follow-up. The plan changed though when, as the meds wore off, he became increasingly restless. At one am we headed off to the out of hours vets and he was admitted. They referred him to a specialist and we collected him first thing for the trip to High Wycombe.

After ruling out a disc issue, their concern was that he’d had a neurological event as the emergency vet had spotted some unusual eye flickering during the night. They sent us home while they prepared him for an MRI scan, wanting first to do an ultrasound to rule out any other causes.

Unwilling to go too far away, Stu and I wandered around nearby Marlow. We had lunch while obsessively checking our phones for an update or missed call. Running out of nerves, I called them at lunchtime and the vet called me straight back. They asked for permission to proceed to the MRI as they were just finishing up the ultrasound and had found nothing untoward. We said yes, and they suggested we go home and wait for an update.

Nine minutes later, the vet called back, full of apologies. As they were finishing the scan, they changed the angle and discovered a golf-ball sized tumour on Bear’s liver. There was nothing they could do. Our boy was deteriorating too quickly.

We talked about bringing him home and asking our vet to visit, as we did for Annie and Vizzy, but decided that would be unfair. When we got to the vets, they brought him to us, wrapped in a blanket. He was barely conscious, and I was glad of that. Glad that whatever they had given him for the pain was working as it should. That he was, I prayed not fully aware of what was going on.

Stu grabbed ‘Littler’ from the car, a soft toy Miniature Schnauzer I bought years ago in a car boot sale for 50p. Bear loved it, and for reasons I can’t remember, it had been in the car for weeks. Even doped up, he immediately rested his chin on his teddy and then he slipped quietly away. My Little Bear. My Daemon Dog. My little soul mate was gone.

Legacy

I’ll write more when I’m able to. For now I’m just incredibly sad that he is no longer in the world. He taught me so much and if, by sharing our journey these past twelve years we’ve helped just one other reactive dog, then Bear’s legacy will live on. 

Thank you for following our story. Hold your fur babies close. x

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