I knew this day was coming, but no matter how much I thought I had prepared, it still knocked me down. Hard. Last Monday, I lost my fur-child Elijah.
I realized over the course of events last week that I have been very fortunate to never have experienced such a loss. In my 36 years, I have never had someone very close to me die, which I am thankful for, but my lucky streak ended abruptly at 5:07pm, April 11, 2011. The worst part about it was that I had to make the decision to let him go. His body was old, very tired, and started crapping out on him. The part that threw me for a loop was that his spirit was quite the opposite. He still had a sparkle in his eye, still found a way to stand up on those wobbly, unforgiving legs to show me how excited he was that I came home from work everyday. He still got excited about his favorite foods, and still mustered up the strength to climb up on the sofa in the evenings to lay his head in my lap while I watched television. I hated having to face that after 14 years, cataracts, deafness, fragile hips, a cancer diagnosis, and rapid neurological decline, I couldn't be selfish any longer.
I quickly had to learn how to cope with the heaviness, the aching heart, & the general discomfort of being awake and having to deal with this decision. I only ate when my body reminded me by making me dizzy, and Starbucks became my drug of choice for about five days. (Apparently when faced with losing someone I loved so much, I am comforted by the flavors of a caramel macchiato?) Though I was exhausted, I couldn't turn my mind off long enough to get any sleep. I kept replaying many of the good times we had from the time he was a puppy up till now, and how I much I hated having to be the one to let him go. I prayed for days on end that he would just give in to his old age, and slip away on his own. But, he remained true-to-form until the very last day, strong-willed and determined to be with me no matter what.
My husband deserves a huge nod here. I already knew I was married to an amazing human being, but he went far beyond what I could've ever hoped to have next to me during this sad experience. He, too, was hurting , yet did nothing but help me. An example of his kindness:
I had gone to the grocery store very early Sunday morning, since I hadn't really slept anyway & we were low on food. When I got back, this was waiting for me on my bathroom mirror. I nearly dissolved at his sweet gesture, his little thoughts reminding me "It will get easier" and how much he loved me. Add to this all the dishes he did, all the vacuuming he did, the grave he dug for our beloved pooch, the fact that he carried him back there himself & buried him, and that he's already been looking at headstones and you will get an inkling at what a super duper man I have. He texted me religiously when he had to be at work, always checking on my well-being, telling me it was breaking his heart to see me so sad, and reminding me he loved me. I will never be able to repay him for his kindness, and I'm beyond grateful he was thoughtful enough to keep up with the stuff that needed to continue being done, while I was busy holding vigil by my dog's side. I truly fell in love with him all over again.
I'm now in the stage where everything is weird. I think I hear his nails tapping on the hardwood floors at night like he's walking around, I still plan my outings from home around his bladder & having to let him out, I still go to call him when I'm cooking & something drops on the floor, I tell myself "I'll just give that to the dog" when there's leftover meat or gravy in a pan ... that sort of thing. I miss him. I miss him terribly, and there's a hole in my heart now that he's gone. This was my first experience with putting a dog down, and it was awful. I wouldn't wish it on anyone. I had a big struggle with guilt about that decision, but luckily, I have been surrounded by compassionate, loving people who have helped me see I did what was best for him. You know who your true friends are when you go through something this hard, and I am thankful for mine. I had such an outpouring of support, it was overwhelming! My co-workers even pitched in and surprised me with a HUGE gift basket on my first day back to work. It was filled with all different kinds of gouda, mozzarella, cheddar, cheesecake brownies, salt & vinegar chips, scones, a baguette, fresh fruit, tres leches cake, yogurt pretzels, pizza, truffles, pasta, and a 6-pack of Guinness - basically all the things I love most from Whole Foods.
Amy hauled 3 of her 4 children with her to my office, just so she could give me a keepsake box and some flowers.
I'm now in the stage where everything is weird. I think I hear his nails tapping on the hardwood floors at night like he's walking around, I still plan my outings from home around his bladder & having to let him out, I still go to call him when I'm cooking & something drops on the floor, I tell myself "I'll just give that to the dog" when there's leftover meat or gravy in a pan ... that sort of thing. I miss him. I miss him terribly, and there's a hole in my heart now that he's gone. This was my first experience with putting a dog down, and it was awful. I wouldn't wish it on anyone. I had a big struggle with guilt about that decision, but luckily, I have been surrounded by compassionate, loving people who have helped me see I did what was best for him. You know who your true friends are when you go through something this hard, and I am thankful for mine. I had such an outpouring of support, it was overwhelming! My co-workers even pitched in and surprised me with a HUGE gift basket on my first day back to work. It was filled with all different kinds of gouda, mozzarella, cheddar, cheesecake brownies, salt & vinegar chips, scones, a baguette, fresh fruit, tres leches cake, yogurt pretzels, pizza, truffles, pasta, and a 6-pack of Guinness - basically all the things I love most from Whole Foods.
Amy hauled 3 of her 4 children with her to my office, just so she could give me a keepsake box and some flowers.
In addition to that, I've had two friends offer to plant trees near his grave, and endless emails and texts to let me know they've kept our family in their prayers. I can say, for a fact, there are still good & decent people left in this world, and a crapload of them are my friends.
When everything is said and done, and though our hearts have healed some, we know will never be able to replace Elijah. I will forever miss him, his goofy personality, his steadfast loyalty, and his irritatingly stubborn habits. Next time I throw a frisbee with a dog, it will feel a little off, because it's not him. If and when we get a new puppy, it'll be hard not to make comparisons to him when he was that young. Every night, at least for a while, when we're watching tv after Z's in bed and all is quiet, my heart will sting a little because I don't have his velvet-head in my lap. He was crazy, he was headstrong, he was fiercely intelligent, and he was my baby. I'll never forget him, and I hope he'll be the first to greet me when my time comes.
In his younger years.
His intense frisbee stare.
After going for a walk, back when Z was about three.
The excited look he'd get if I asked if he wanted to play frisbee.
(Note his tail and the blur of motion)
Recovering from a frisbee session.
His guilty look, when he knew he had done something naughty.
Regal protector, scoping out the front yard.
Growling older, slowing down more.
Three days before he died, up in my lap at night.
The day before he died, came to find out what I was doing when I was taking a bath, though he could barely walk.
Rest in peace, old friend.
Elijah Gesch Lawson
1/23/97 - 4/11/11
♥
When everything is said and done, and though our hearts have healed some, we know will never be able to replace Elijah. I will forever miss him, his goofy personality, his steadfast loyalty, and his irritatingly stubborn habits. Next time I throw a frisbee with a dog, it will feel a little off, because it's not him. If and when we get a new puppy, it'll be hard not to make comparisons to him when he was that young. Every night, at least for a while, when we're watching tv after Z's in bed and all is quiet, my heart will sting a little because I don't have his velvet-head in my lap. He was crazy, he was headstrong, he was fiercely intelligent, and he was my baby. I'll never forget him, and I hope he'll be the first to greet me when my time comes.
In his younger years.
His intense frisbee stare.
After going for a walk, back when Z was about three.
The excited look he'd get if I asked if he wanted to play frisbee.
(Note his tail and the blur of motion)
Recovering from a frisbee session.
His guilty look, when he knew he had done something naughty.
Regal protector, scoping out the front yard.
Growling older, slowing down more.
Three days before he died, up in my lap at night.
The day before he died, came to find out what I was doing when I was taking a bath, though he could barely walk.
Rest in peace, old friend.
Elijah Gesch Lawson
1/23/97 - 4/11/11
♥
