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It's been almost six months since I lost Benny (Grampa as we took to calling him in his old age) at almost exactly fourteen years old by a couple days, but I only just found this thread while late night browsing. To those of you still feeling the fresh hurt of your lost loved one, it gets easier, but not better with time. I can laugh and joke and eat again, but I still pretty regularly find myself wondering what he's up to and why he's not in the room with me before remembering. He used to sleep in a bed in the corner on my side of the bed and I'd always start my day by waking up, looking over the edge, and waking him up with pets. I still wake up and look for him in the corner. Sometimes our other dog, Pig, is there and it's not so bad but she usually prefers the couch and doesn't stick around all night. I'll still sometimes come across random photos, toys, or music that reminds me of him and just start crying like a little baby as if I just lost him yesterday again. I'm not an emotional person. My wife makes fun of me by calling me a robot that doesn't get emotions and she's not really wrong. In ten years with her I had never cried once until the night I knew I was going to lose him. In my younger and stupider days I picked up 8-ish week old Grampa off a farm in the middle of rural Oklahoma more or less on a whim because I had never had a dog and I wanted a dog. Their dog had been knocked up by a neighbor's dog and they just wanted to get rid of the puppies so they put an ad in the paper and there I went. Later in his life I bought one of those Wisdom Panel tests for him for fun. If those are to be believed, he was 25% pit bull, 50% boxer, 12% lab, and a few other breeds mixed in. I was NOT prepared to raise a dog. I took a lot of bad advice from ignorant people and didn't treat young Grampa the way he deserved, but it didn't matter to him. He was still excited to see me every day, was eager to play and learn and was always a positive force in my life. Through reading PI and various other sources I learned how to treat a dog after a couple years and lots of frustration. He didn't hold a grudge, but I know I can never take back how I treated young Grampa and that hurts almost as bad as losing him. I went through a pretty bad breakup shortly after moving to a city where I had no support structure and he got me through it. No matter how badly I wanted to wallow or rage, he was there and still needed to eat and play and walk and that fact gave me purpose. I think that's when we REALLY bonded. He became and always will be my best bud and losing him left a hole that can never be filled again. He was suspicious of strangers and slow to warm up to new people, but eventually everyone that met him fell in love with him. He would never willingly spend time in a room that didn't contain someone he trusted. He would just stand, sit, or lay there staring at them like they were the entire universe, waiting patiently for attention. Even well past his ability to easily get around he would get up and do what we called his house patrol every couple hours, methodically checking every room in the house to make sure he knew who was there and where they were. He always seemed to know when someone wasn't feeling right and would attempt to comfort with kisses or even just by laying down against them and being a warm and comforting presence. My wife's grandmother credits him with saving her life with his house patrols. She was staying with us while working through some health issues and needed to eat often. Grampa would wake her up every couple hours on his patrols by pressing her hand or arm with his nose which she took as a reminder to eat. He started having mini seizures and leg spasms, especially at night around twelve years old. On rare occasions he even peed in the house or on furniture, something completely out of character for a dog we joke had an infinite bladder. We complained about it to his vet regularly, and did a million tests, but results always came back perfect as though he were a dog half his age. It all came to a head just a few days before his 14th birthday. He was drinking some water and his loyal minion, Pig, was just standing there admiring the way he drank when we heard her start nasty growling. She rarely ever shows aggression of any kind so it got our attention. Grampa had stopped drinking and was just staring at the wall while she growled. Then he just collapsed on the floor and she ran for her life. We rushed him to the 24 hour vet who noted pale gums and anemia, but could see no reason for it. After a stressful night I made the call to bring him home, hoping we could make him comfortable and let him pass in peace at home where he was safe. He refused to go and was still fighting the next morning. I took him to another vet who did a second round of x-rays and claimed to see a mass on his liver and said there wasn't much that could be done. By then, Grampa was so weak he couldn't walk on his own and I was carrying him. We took him home and tried to make him comfortable for another night, hoping he would go peacefully. We slept on the floor as close as we could get to him in his bed, but despite being so weak that he peed on himself overnight, he refused to go so I finally made the worst decision of my life and took him back to the 24 hour vet. We hugged him and petted him and cried on him as they injected him and that was that. I still beat myself up for simultaneously making the call to end his life and waiting as long as I did to do it. There was no winning move in that situation. His ashes are in a box on a bookshelf. I'm planning to bury them under a tree sapling if we ever manage to move to a property we plan on living in for the rest of our lives. Thanks for reading all that if you did. Even after a few months it felt good to just write it down. Looking at those pics and videos is still hard. I can still see myself giving him a great big hug. Like I said at the beginning, it gets easier, but it never gets better.  Young Grampa making his best face.  Old Grampa, still all smiles.  Sharing a bed with Pig before we had our floors installed. He tolerated her. Her life revolved around him. She took his loss harder than I did and she still isn't the same dog anymore. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rp0VHqcWV7o https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1DN-q3RTqek A couple short videos I took of him around the same time as the first picture. He was about three in these.
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Oct 17, 2020 09:48
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| # ¿ Apr 26, 2024 23:05 |
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