I can’t believe that it has been an entire week since Holly left us. I had a few different ideas about what I should talk about in this post. A friend of mine suggested that I write down all of the things that I loved about her and that made me laugh or smile or that I just wanted to remember so that I never forget them and so that I can always look at the list, remember our good times, and smile. I thought maybe I would post the beginning of that list today, but I haven’t started writing it down yet. It’s been forming in my head over the last week, and I think of something new to add to it practically ever minute. I’m a bit overwhelmed by the idea of sitting down and starting the list. In general, I couldn’t really come up with a coherent post because I’m just feeling so defeated today.
I know that every decision was made out of love and with Holly’s best interests at heart, but I’m really regretting some of the decisions that we made in the final days. I feel like we were just panicked and made some rash decisions. Since the day she was diagnosed, there were two things that we wanted to always take into account before making a decision: we wanted to make sure that her quality of life was still good and we wanted to get every possible bit of information that we could before doing anything. This time, we didn’t do the MRI. I don’t know if it would have made a difference – if we had confirmed that it was disc disease, I don’t know what the doctors would have said about spinal surgery or if we would have decided to do it in the end. I just heard that she would have to be anesthetized and sort of shut down without thinking things through. I was so worried about her heart that I couldn’t see past it to realize that the anesthesia would be very light and over quickly, and really shouldn’t have presented any problems. I really just don’t know what I was thinking. It had just sort of been one thing after another for a couple of weeks, and we freaked out and went back on our decision to always step back and think carefully before deciding anything. It’s something that will haunt me for a long time, I think. The one pass that I will give us here is that we thought we were waiting for improvement, and it never occurred to anyone that suddenly this leg paralysis would progress into something else; we thought that it might get better, and if it didn’t, it wouldn’t get worse and we would have to decide if we wanted to try to treat more aggressively, if we thought that her quality of life would be acceptable without improvement, or if we thought that euthanasia was the best option at that point. If we had made it through the weekend and things had just stayed the same with her leg, I might have ended up doing the MRI before making a final decision. Like with every other part of this journey, I just thought that we had a little bit more time. Even still….maybe on Thursday morning, instead of letting her go, we should have gotten her sedated and stabilized and discussed our options at that point. I am still just in such shock.. How did this happen? How did we have the perfect storm? Her one remaining front leg was PARALYZED?!?! Ok, this is a disaster, it can’t get any worse…oh wait, now she’s having trouble breathing?!?! We don’t even get to wait and see if her leg improves??? Seriously, what on earth happened here?
We had plans. We had plans for years and years. She was only 9, and I wasn’t in the frame of mind that we needed to think about losing her yet. Then she got diagnosed, and we still had plans. We realized that we needed to make the most of each day, and we also decided to attack the cancer head-on and keep her around and healthy for as long as possible. I’m usually incredibly pessimistic, but honestly, I heard “median survival time of a year” as “ok, maybe you can start to worry after a year”. Literally, I always, always, always think that the worst outcome will happen, but this time, it didn’t really occur to me that we would be in the 50% that didn’t make it a year. I don’t think it was even an option in my mind, because living without her wasn’t a possibility. She was so tough and so strong and she scoffed at that horrible cancer. She started hopping around after surgery like nothing had happened. She didn’t even notice the chemo. Everything was looking good.
As well as she was doing, I was so excited to watch her get even stronger. I wanted to see her be able to play fetch for longer and go on longer walks and roughhouse with other dogs. I couldn’t wait for her fur to grow back. I was anticipating a time when the chemo was over and we only had the occasional checkup (plus lots of pills), but otherwise, we just went on about our lives without thinking about cancer. I wanted more pictures and more videos, more snuggles, more smiles, and more tail wags. She deserved all of that. Later this summer was supposed to be “Holly’s summer vacation”. We scrapped plans for a fancy schmancy vacation for ourselves once we started paying those vet bills…but even more than that, because we knew we didn’t want to leave her – we just wanted to be with her constantly. We wanted to have a special road trip that was all about her, a time when we could spend quality time with her and a time when we could make wonderful memories that would last throughout her cancer fight and beyond.
Today, we picked up Holly’s ashes. It was horrific. It was so final. I STILL keep thinking that she will walk in the door, smiling her big smile and wagging her tail, having enjoyed a nice long walk (hop). She’ll go drink an entire bowl of water, because that’s how she rolls, and then she’ll hop up on the couch and lie down with a big sigh, ready for her belly rub. We were supposed to have more time. Damn it, I want my dog back.
Hollybeans, you are my beautiful girl. Forever with you wouldn’t have been enough. There is a huge hole in my heart, and without you here, there always will be. I love and miss you every day and I will love and miss you every day for the rest of my life. Love, Mommy
Alex, your pain is palpable. I wish there was something I could say to take it away but only time is going to ease it and far too slowly.
Please don’t doubt your decision on the day. You did the right thing for Holly, you didn’t allow her to suffer any longer. You love Holly with all your being so you would have been making decisions on the day with her best welfare in mind. Sometimes, on a deeper, subconscious level, we just know what the right decision is. It doesn’t need to be analysed. I truly believe that is why you made the decision you made. You knew it was the right decision for Holly. I had the same self doubts after making the decision to let Magnum go. I had always said I would do what was best for Magnum, not what was best for me. But later I thought “why didn’t I get them to ring the oncologist, get his opinion, maybe try the stuff that can help with bone cancer pain, buy her a bit more time”. But all I would have been doing is prolonging Magnum’s suffering for myself. Like you I didn’t think it was her time, not on that day and the shock of it was overwhelming.
I am just so sorry for your pain and wish there was more I could do. Please know that you and Holly are never far from my thoughts.
Thank you Princess for so wonderfully stating what I felt in my heart to say.
Please allow time to heal you. Giving a pet peace at their greatest time of need is the most important thing we can do. I also feel that it is the hardest decision most of us we will ever make in our lives. It is only human to second guess yourself and the situation. I hope you can take some comfort in knowing that your vets supported your decision on Holly’s final day.
Please carry on for Clyde now. He needs you and he will support you through the coming weeks, months, and years. Maybe some day you will adopt another “heart” dog and she will grow to mean as much to you as Holly did.
We will keep you in our thoughts and prayers.
Nobody ever knows 100%, beyond-a-shadow-of-a-doubt sure that they are making the “big decision” at the absolute apex time, the very best day that will squeeze out all joy they can without exposing their dog to suffering. Think about what would be required to do that. It’s impossible. We are left to stumble along in our humanity and trusting that our dogs know we are doing the best we can with the information we have, and with the financial resources we have. And I believe our dogs do know this. If you always do your best by your dog, she will love you no matter what.
I had tremendous self-loathing for not doing this for my heart-dog sooner. Unfortunately, my husband and I disagreed and I felt that she wanted and needed to be released and he thought her tails wags and stuffed squirrel wrangling were evidence that she wanted to go on. And we’ve seen scores of people here say that their dog hopped into the vet’s office quite merrily on their last day. Wagging and playing do not indicate joy in life. Not when they happen for moments and not days on end.
Both you and I need to keep in mind that we were able to say “not a moment more of unnecessary pain” and then act on it. Our timing may not have been perfect, but it was perfect in the eyes of our dogs and it was perfect given the imperfect information we could gather. If Holly could talk, she would thank you for always loving her and doing your best.
Shari
The anniversary of the first week is SO hard. It hit me really hard, just like picking up the ashes did. I know what you mean about hoping she’ll still come hopping on into the house. For a long time I thought I’d still see Abby hanging out in her chair where she liked to watch the view of our back yard. When we love our pups as much as we have done, unfortunately we open ourselves up to this horrible pain that comes with losing them. It’s another part of the love. It’s the suckiest part, but it’s still part.
Please try to not have regrets and second guess your choices. It’s not possible to know what would have happened if you’d made different choices (maybe the anesthesia would have been too much for her – and then you’d be beating yourself up for that choice). I know it’s hard to let that stuff go, but try. Holly wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up like that!! So let it go for her.
Thinking of you guys.
Jackie