I apologize for the long posting, but this site has been enormously helpful
to me, and I wanted to let my boy's story out in this great place.
Finally got a picture of my sweet Sunne up... it's been almost a week now,
the constricting, agonizing pain has softened, but the emptiness is still there.
There isn't a moment in the day that I don't think of him.
I guess, after reading other people's stories here, I consider myself, and Sunne, lucky...
I have 3 small children and a loving wife and Sunne's sister to keep me company...
Our 7 month, 2 and 5 year-olds won't give us a moments peace... which is good...
I'm so thankful to have them. It's confusing for them I think to see us grief-stricken
about this, so we've been forced not to show it, which is both difficult, and helpful I guess.
Our journey in the last week has been, A) to survive the void, the crying spells to try
to function, and B) to figure out what happened and why?
It started a month and a half ago with surgery to repair his torn ACL. He didn't
recover as quickly as expected, prompting the vet to X-ray him again where we
found Sunne's leg was partly shattered, due to a weakening caused by a cancerous
bone tumor over the ACL...
Sunne went on without complaint with very little pain medication (one of the most
powerful sources of guilt for me), getting dragged this way and that to various
doctors appointments. One of his last was the oncologist, where they recommended
amputation, and where we also discovered he had an enlarged heart.
The weekend following the appointment he seemed tired, but okay... We
tried to summon the courage to get him in and remove the leg... Then I woke
up on 5/4... his breathing was ragged and he wouldn't eat or drink...
then he crawled under a bush in our yard with his busted up leg... I rushed
him to the vet where we got him stabilized, and he seemed comfortable.
The vet thought the leg was infected, and we should go forward with the
amputation to save him.
I spent some time with him on the floor there then said a long goodbye,
although I didn't think it'd be that kind of goodbye.
The vet said he'd be under heavy pain medication, as the surgery was
very painful, but he'd be bouncing around at home in a few days... So I left him
there, smiling at me with this kind of knowing look, watching me go.
He survived the surgery, then died an hour later of a cardiac arrest at
midnight.
Cleo, his sister, was laying on the floor in a single spot , without moving, the following morning.
She wouldn't go outside or look at me, she just laid with her head on her paws.
I didn't know what had happened but she definitely did.
I was reeling when I found out - I've never felt pain like that... ever... not with
my grandparents' death or my earlier pets or friends passing... I was so close to him.
He was my best best friend. I took a few days off and I stumbled on this site,
found Steph's 'Journey through Grief' thread, which I clung to like a lifeline.
The conclusion my wife and I came to after trying to pick up the pieces
was that his heart condition was probably very progressed, as the raspy
breath indicated on the day he went in for his last surgery.
If we'd started him on medication, it would've been too late, and he likely
would've died with a painful heart attack, like so many I've read about on
this site... The stories are agonizing to hear.
Sunne was one of the lucky ones - he was loaded with morphine after
making it through his amputation, and left us, I know, without pain. It was
his time to go, and a difficult, but important sequence of events led him
to that end. Although his last month of life was excruciating I know.
Now the pain has shifted... to something bitter sweet... just missing him terribly...
I wished I'd seen it coming, been able to tell him goodbye in the true sense,
hugged him, told him how dearly he was loved, and how thankful I was to
have had the priviledge of knowing him... He was there before the kids,
moving from California to Hawaii and back again with my wife and I.. He was truly
my best friend... a saint... kind, gentle, loyal, protective, intelligent- He always
had love in his eyes, a patience, a calmness with me... dedicated to me,
fully, with everything I asked of him... he was a huge being, an amazing
presence... He wasn't a pet, he was my equal, or rather he was a greater
person than I. Maybe it's simpler for an animal to show continual, unconditional love,
but that doesn't change the fact that they simply do, which is a way they are superior
to us as human beings. Sunne was a fountain, and I'm so grateful for all he taught me.
I LOVE YOU SUNNE!
Could take a while to load, but I made a small website here dedicated to him...
http://www.sunnedog.com/