I have always been an outgoing person, but over the course of the last 5 or 6 years I seem to have lost who I was while trying to find myself. Does that make sense? I'm trying to find myself again and so far it seems to be working.
I lost my fur baby on July 16th. It shouldn't have been sudden, but I realize that it was. I still feel like I am to blame, and I miss her something fierce. She is the fur baby in the picture above. That's my Sera, otherwise known as the Darkness Bandit. In March, she had a UTI. The vet gave me pills to give her and I had a hellacious time trying to get her to take them. I thought she got better, but in April she had another UTI. Actually, it was the same one, just worse. Her enzymes were elevated, so the vet asked me to bring in a urine sample. So, I did. There was some concern with the number of epithelial cells in the urine sample. The vet sent her to have an ultrasound done of her kidneys, bladder, stomach, etc. They were looking for cancer. Thank God it wasn't cancer. The vet diagnosed her with chronic renal disease. He told me that it could progress quickly or it could progress slowly. I had to put her on a special diet, and special bones and check the crude protein in the food and bones I was giving her. The week before the 16th, she was peeing in the house, she was vomiting in the house, she was shitting in the house. I didn't know what to do. I gave her several baths that week and had to put the baby gate up in the bathroom so she wouldn't do it all over the place.
She wasn't eating that week either. I gave her bread. She seemed okay and the next day she would vomit it up. On July 15th, I got her chicken baby food. She gobbled that right up. I gave her a bath and dried her off and wrapped her in a towel in the bathroom. A little while later, after I had gone to bed, she began to howl this unbearable I am in pain howl. I brought her in the bedroom and put her in the bed with me and snuggled up to her. She kept shivering and several hours later I had to lay her beside the bed on the floor. She was quiet and didn't howl if she was near me or could see me.
When I let her out before work on the 16th, she couldn't even stand on her own. I knew something was wrong. I shouldn't have gone to work that day. I should have stayed with her. I regret that. I left her alone to suffer for a few hours. I called the vet and he told me to bring her in right away. I emailed my boss and he called. I told him what was going on and that I needed to leave. He told me to go ahead. I got home, I wrapped her in the towel, and I carried her to the car.
When I got to the vet, he told me that she had progressed to acute renal failure and that her organs were shutting down. He did not think that she would live through the weekend. He told me that it was time to consider putting her 'to sleep.' I called my sister, Sherie. She came to the vet to be with me. The whole time I just held Sera and loved on her. It took me a long time to say my good-byes to her. I had had her almost 16 years, she was like my child. She was the constant in my life for the last 16 years! She was there for me when I was happy, and she was there to comfort me when I was sad. She always knew how to cheer me up, and she always knew when I just needed her to lie next to me with her head on my lap or on my chest. She always knew when to give me kisses, even up until her last breath.
When the doctor was giving her the medicine to stop her heart, I had one hand under her head and the other on the other side and my nose to her nose. We just stared in each others eyes.
I know what I did was the best thing for her, but that still doesn't make it any easier. Things have been rough personally for me the last couple of months and these are the times when I miss her the most. I know she's here in spirit. I can sense her. Sometimes I can smell her or hear something she would do.
My other sister, Tracy, one of her dogs was hit by a speeding driver this past weekend. Daisy didn't survive. This has brought up alot of issues with me missing Sera. Sometimes I think I am ready for a new dog, and sometimes I don't think that I am. I feel like that would mean I am ready to move on. I don't think I am.
Some people probably don't understand why, 3.5 months later, I am still like this. It has gotten better. I do have my memories of her. She's buried under the magnolia tree at my grandmother's and I do take her flowers and sit there and talk to her. But, it's not the same.
This is the last picture of me and my Sera.
This is how I want to remember her. This is the picture I have hanging in my living room.
It has taken me THIS long to be able to blog about this. Even as I do, I keep having to wipe the tears away and I know that when I'm done I will have myself a good cry and be done. I know that I have to move on with my life and I know that I will see her when the time for me to do so comes along.
No comments:
Post a Comment