Hello, all.

I had posted in a different forum, but after giving it some thought, I decided this one was more appropriate. If I made the wrong choice, I sure do apologize.

We adopted Halle in 2006 and the rescue told us they thought she was about 6 years old then. I think they may have misjudged by a couple of years, because she's always had the grey muzzle and the fact that she could and would jump the fence to go after other dogs made me think she was more spry than anyone thought. It was a rough start, to be sure, but she and I formed a very unusual bond. Like many other dogs, she picked up on emotions very easily, but unlike some dogs, it really bothered her to see me or my daughter upset or sad. For the last 18+ months of her life, I gave her insulin shots every 12 hours and started to take her every other week to an animal acupuncturist for arthritis. In December she tore her ACL, but we decided it would be more dangerous to do the surgery at her age and current health problems. Almost without fail, in any type of weather she and I would have our morning walk. It was our time and as she slowed, it became less exercise for me and more for her. I indulged her incessant need to sniff at everything. After all, I knew our time together was getting shorter and shorter. It's the least I could do to let her have this joy, no matter how crazy it made me.

This past June, she really started to slow down. She no longer got up when I came home or when my husband came home from his business trips, or when her favorite kid came home. We went to one of her many dog beds to say hello and love on her. She still made it up the stairs to sleep with us though, where she also had a couple of dog beds. Spoiled! On June 21, we were at my neighbor's house visiting her best buddy, Lucy. She had really perked up and had so much fun! That night my daughter came home from a week long trip with her father. Normally Halle would have been beside herself with excitement, but the spark was gone from her eyes and she wouldn't get up. I knew. I KNEW something was not right. I didn't want to see it, and made all kinds of excuses in my head. I was NOT ready to say good bye. That night, around 12:30 AM she woke me up by crying, a very different cry. I jumped out of bed and turned on the light, and she was looking at me almost pleading with me to help her. She could not get up. I hoisted all 80 pounds of her to her feet, and it was like her back legs were Jell-O, and she fell back down. I called our emergency vet, and we gathered the 3 kids who still live at home to be with her. I then called my oldest daughter at her apartment to let her know we were taking Halle and this might be time to say good bye. She met us there. We think, though we aren't sure still, that she may have suffered a stroke. We made the decision to let her go. It was NOT the way I wanted it to be. I had it planned where it would be quiet, in our home with her favorite toy (the only stuffed animal she never tore apart) next to her and her laying on her blankie. But here we were in the middle of the night in a strange place with a vet whom I'd never met. She gave us all the time we needed for good byes, brought a jar of peanut butter for her to snack on along with all sorts of oreo cookies. Haha! She was so happy! But the time came and we knew we could not put it off. My sweet Halle girl passed surrounded by a family that loved her as unconditionally as she loved us, with her head in my daughter's lap. I was the last one to leave. I laid next to her and told her I was sorry, that I hoped I did right by her. And then I left. It's been 3 months and I miss her every minute of every day. I function, I work, I take care of the house. But every time I come home I still look for her. I had surgery in July and on the way home from the hospital I thought briefly, "It will be nice to snuggle with Halle." I take walks still every day - more quickly of course!. I feel her with me every time.

Like I said, each animal will hold a piece of my heart, but Halle took something else. I wish it would stop hurting so badly. Thank you so much for letting me write this.
xoxo Mary

Hi, Mary, please permit me to offer you my sincerest sympathies in the physical loss of your beloved Halle. Losing a companion is never easy regardless of the circumstances or how long we are blessed with the privilege of their company. Euthanasia is the last gift of love we can give to our copmanion at great sacrifice to ourselves so that they can be restored to their former youthfulness in the company of the angels.

Mary, please let me try to reassure you that what you are feeling is very normal deep grief as you share with us: "Like I said, each animal will hold a piece of my heart, but Halle took something else." It doesn't matter if it's our first experience with grieving the physical loss of a beloved companion or our thousandth - - each grief journey is uniquely individual because each relationship we share with our companions during their earthly journey is uniquely individual. This grief journey is one of the most painful experiences you will know on this side of eternity for it is filled with many different emotions that can overwhelm us all at one time - - which is one of the many reasons why it is frequently referred to as a horror roller coaster ride. It is a journey that can only be traveled one day at a time, sometimes one moment at a time, because you are now on a journey that is filled with all the first withouts and the memories that can be all too painful right now that include this time yesterday, last week, last month, last year to endure.

Mary, it is obvious from what you share with us that you and your family did everything in your human, and humane, power to give your beloved Halle a happy, healthy earthly journey. When our companions come into our hearts and homes our lives are changed for the better. When they precede us to the angels our lives are changed again because we are now faced with the enormously painful task of re-inventing our daily routines that no longer include the physical presence of our beloved companion, and this is incredibly painful both emotionally and physically. Every time our companions lick / kiss us, rub / touch us they are literally chemically imprinting themselves onto us so that they can identify us from the millions of other people on this planet. When they are no longer physically with us, we literally go through a physical withdrawal from this chemical imprint, which is yet one of the many other reasons why this grief adjustment journey is so painful both physically and emotionally.

Each of us here truly understand how you're feeling when you share with us: "I wish it would stop hurting so badly." Clinical professionals now recognize that the grief journey for the physical loss of a beloved companion is the same as for a human family member or friend. Some people think that if they suppress their grief that it will make their sorrow less painful. Clinical studies prove that suppressed grief is very unhealthy for suppressing the sorrow intensifies the stress on the body which may eventually lead to medical attention at some point in time. Scientific studies prove that the tears we cry are literally healing tears because they literally cleanse the body from the toxins that build up in the body from the stress of grief. So it is vitally important for your health that you allow yourself to openly grieve for your beloved Halle even if you must find a private place to do so away from other people.

Although this grief journey is a very painful adjustment to the physical absence of your beloved Halle there is one thing that will never change: the love bond you and your beloved Halle share. Love is eternal, Mary, - - it is not restricted to the physical laws of time and space. Your beloved Halle's sweet Living Spirit continues to share your earthly journey as she always has and always will for she is always and forever a part of your heart and memories, Mary - - she is always and forever a heartbeat close to you.

I know all too well from first hand experience that when our hearts are entrenched in deep grief there are no adequate words in any language that can soothe the searing pain of sorrow. Still I hope the words I share with you will offer you some measure of comfort, support, encouragement, and hope as you travel your grief adjustment journey.

Thank you so much for honoring us in sharing your beloved Halle with us, Mary. Perhaps sometime you will feel up to sharing a picture of her with us - - but only when / if you want to. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Moon_Beam…
Thank you so so much for your kind words. They really do mean a lot to me. I am hoping that when I think of Halle, I will smile and laugh more because I'm remembering her gentleness and silliness, rather than concentrating on how much I miss her. I am so very guilty of beating myself up and telling myself that I shouldn't cry anymore…get my act together. That is not what I would tell a loved one, so why am I so hard on myself?

I've also been through the second guessing myself stage. In my brain, I knew it was the right and kind thing to do. In my heart, well, I can always find ways to second guess, no matter how far-fetched that line of reasoning is.

I didn't realize how much of my day was taken with caring for her until I suddenly didn't have to do it anymore. I still find myself at night especially, thinking that I need to get her shot ready, or check her water dish. The first couple of walks without her were horrible. My husband came with me the first time -- in the evening so I could get teary and not have to see anyone. Haha!

I would be honored to post a picture of my Halle! Hard to choose one, but the one I have below is how she always made me smile. When she was just waking up from a nap, her tongue was always sticking out, and I was amazed that it never seemed to bother her. She'd walk around like that and we would always laugh. With that being said, here is Halle. Thank you again, for you understanding and compassion. It means more to me than you could ever know.

Click to view attachment

I am sorry for your loss. Your Halle was such a pretty little girl! She sounds so sweet, too.

I quoted part of your message above because it expresses exactly how I felt after losing my beagle Duke less than a week ago. My husband and I had arranged our entire house around him, and now that he is gone, the house seems empty and we have so much more time on our hands, but I really wish we didn't! I would give up all that extra time to take care of my baby.

Hi, Mary, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. I fully understand how you're feeling when you share with us: "In my brain, I knew it was the right and kind thing to do. In my heart, well, I can always find ways to second guess, no matter how far-fetched that line of reasoning is." One of the many things we experience during the grief journey is the looking back and trying to reconcile all the what ifs, if onlys, and whys that haunt our heart when we are so deeply vulnerable. What we "know" intellectually takes time for our hearts to adjust to.

When our companions come into our lives they literally become the center of our universe because they are totally dependent upon us for their every need. So it is a very painful adjustment when they precede us to the angels in having to re-invent our routines that no longer include the physical care of our beloved companion.

Thank you so much for honoring us in sharing a picture of your beloved Halle. She is sooo beautiful, and it is obvious from the expression on her face and in her eyes that she knows she is loved. I hope today is treating you kindly, Mary, and that you will have a peaceful evening blessed with your beloved Halle's sweet Living Spirit to comfort you. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

19lynn68...

Thank you very much. I'm so sorry to hear about Duke's passing. What a great name for a beagle! I don't know about you, but I find great comfort in knowing that others completely understand the raw emotions, and that we can be completely honest about those emotions without being judged.

You and your husband sound like incredibly kind people. And I understand about the house being and feeling empty. It took almost a week, but I couldn't stand to see the empty dog beds (2!) in the living room, or her basket of much loved stuffed animals. So I had to take them out, wash the bed covers to donate to our shelter, and rearrange a couple pieces of furniture to fill the spaces. Yet every day I still walk in the door I instinctively look toward where Halle's favorite bed was. Really? After 3 months?

And I told my husband the same thing about giving Halle her meds and treatments. Not once did I see it as a burden. Never! And I said to him I'd do it all over again, given another chance. A lot of my friends didn't understand it if I had to make any plans around her shot schedule. I didn't care. I actually felt sorry for them that they didn't get it.

I wish for you, a time when the hurt subsides and you're able to look back with smiles rather than sadness. That you know you and Duke were so lucky to have each other, and that you experienced the absolute unconditional love that our companions give us.