How Losing My Dog Changed My World

When I lost my dog in November 2018, my world was forever changed. Everything felt so different. I honestly didn’t know who I was anymore, or what my purpose was.

His death was totally unexpected and I was absolutely not prepared for the gut-wrenching pain that I was about to endure. I only had ten years with him and I felt cheated. I was angry, I was desperate and I was ridden with guilt.

This is a story I wrote around eight months after he died. The words just flew out of me that day. I had so much pent up in me, and I had to let it all out or would have eaten me alive.

This is a raw and honest account, of how pet loss can affect us. I hope by sharing it, it may help others to cope with their grief, after losing a furry best friend. Your grief is valid and my heart goes out to you.

I lost Ollie, on November 24th 2018. It’s now July 2019 and I still can’t accept he’s gone. I’m so tired and I know this will take a very long time to get over. Ollie was incredible. I got him in a particularly hard time in my life and he became my everything.

He knew me so well, better than any human as we spent so much time together. He went through a lot with me. He comforted me during my bouts of depression, through break ups and other losses. He never asked for much in return, just my love. And maybe a treat or two, or ten. 

He was so patient, so understanding and so forgiving. He was protective of me and he loved me, unconditionally.

He got me out the house on our daily evening walk, when my lazy side just wanted to watch TV. He loved those walks more than anything, because he loved people! He loved being fussed over by strangers.

People always stopped us and remarked on how cute he was, and he could not get enough! He was well known in most of the local shops and the staff looked forward to us popping in. He was such a character.

He definitely had a bit of an attitude, and he had the funniest little stink eye he gave me when he didn’t get enough chicken. He just made life better, in every way.

Man, I miss him. We only had ten years together. I was dreading the day he died from the moment I got him. I knew it would break me. I was already pretty broken, though, as I had been through a lot in life. So, losing him was like God taking the last little piece of happiness and security I had left.

I can honestly say, I don’t think I will be the same again. Something changed in me when he died.

Everything reminds me of him. I stopped going for walks because I felt haunted by the fact he wasn’t next to me. I couldn’t hear his little paws on the pavement and his collar jingling. The house became a constant reminder that he was gone.

He was no longer there to greet me when I came home, howling away and spinning around with happiness. It was just, silence. The place on my bed where he used to lay, now nothing. His spot on the couch – I could still see him there in my memory but when that cleared, he was gone. His bowls, empty. 

Never having had kids, or a lasting relationship, Ollie was literally my life. He was my constant! He was always there for me, he kissed away many tears.

Wherever Ollie was, was home to me. I used to pray every night that he would have a long and healthy life, but unfortunately, it wasn’t to be.

He’d always had bad teeth and he’d had numerous dentals over the years, but nothing I did really helped. Apparently it was an issue of his breed (Maltese). And when in the last year of his life, his hair starting thinning out, I assumed it was age. He was ten after all.

He had been to the vet twice for check-ups that year, as he had a tummy upset and another dental, they thought he was healthy. 

One night we were out walking. I had noticed he had been more sluggish than usual on our walks, but I thought he was just trying to drag the walk out for as long as possible, being the stubborn boy he was.

He suddenly slowed right down and trailed behind me, which was not the norm at all. Ollie, liked to lead the way, on every single walk.

I looked back at him and he looked up at me, panting, with a desperate look on his face. I said “What’s wrong buddy?” he took a few steps toward me and stopped again, panting harder, his eyes darting around. My heart dropped, I just knew this was it. I picked him up and solemnly started the walk home. 

People looked at me like I was nuts, carrying a fluffy white dog along like a baby. He looked around as I walked, quietly and eerily, with a look in his eye, like he knew too. I found a park bench and decided to rest a bit as he was pretty heavy for a little boy.

We sat and people watched for a bit. Normally, he would be excited and looking around, but he just sat on my knee and quietly observed his surroundings.

I then finished the walk home feeling incredibly terrified, sad and helpless, but also resigned to the fact he was dying. Don’t ask me how I knew it was serious, I just did.

I took him to the vet the next day. He informed me (after a urine test) that his kidneys weren’t functioning well. I ran out in tears leaving poor Ollie and my mum in the vet’s office. I managed to compose myself and walked back in.

Ollie’s hair was falling out in large clumps, it lay scattered on the floor of the vet’s office. The stress was not helping him. 

The vet said he wanted to test him for Cushing’s disease, a disease of the adrenal gland causing over-production of cortisol. Cushing’s causes hair loss, bad skin, and eventual organ failure and so on and so forth. A serious and devastating disease.

He gave him a shot for his nausea and the vet said it would sting a bit. I grit my teeth waiting for the yelp. But Ollie, being the brave boy he was, only squirmed a little, too polite to cry out. 

We had to wait a few days for the results and in the meantime, I did my research on Cushing’s. After reading all the symptoms, I realised he definitely had it. My little boy, was going to die.

He must have had it for a while, as it progresses over time. He could no longer process toxins in his body. Ollie, had become very lethargic, he had a very bad tummy and his hair was falling out like crazy. Around 60% of it had fallen out by now.

He had become sad, he had lost his zest for life and I knew he was not going to last long. 

His test results came back positive for Cushing’s, as I expected. The vet wanted to give him a shot of antibiotics, as he had another tooth rotting away and we discussed putting him on a drip to see if it helped his kidneys.

If his kidneys were failing, there would be no point treating him for the Cushing’s. It was a gruelling treatment with dangerous side effects, which I had not intended to put him through anyway. 

It turned out his kidneys were indeed failing. The vet said to just see how he got on, and that it was a matter of time now. He gave him another awful shot for the nausea and poor Ollie suffered through it quietly, yet again. 

The vet assured me that the kidney failure was not causing him any pain, that he would just be feeling ill, kind of like a hangover. 

His last days were spent well, lots of cuddles, lots of love and lots of tears. I sang him his favourite songs, including silly ones I had made up over the years. I recorded tons of videos and took many, many photos. I regretted not having taking more photos of him when he was well. 

I took him to the beach carrying him and comforting him. I sat on the sand with him in my arms and we looked at the ocean, as the waves crashed in front of us. I felt completely at one with him in that moment. I felt like he was telling me he didn’t want to leave me alone.

It probably sounds ridiculous, but it felt very real to me. I told him he didn’t need to worry anymore. I told him he could go, that I would change my life, that I would do better, for him. 

I bought him a stroller and took him to his favourite spots. As beautiful as it was, it was the most painful thing to go through. He was so calm, so in the moment, at peace almost. He knew he was dying. My poor little guy.

I kept thinking, that soon this little being, this little soul that I had loved so much, would be gone. 

The thought of cremating him broke my heart, how could I burn my baby? I had always been so protective of him and to think of his little body burning, made me feel physically ill. But, burying him wasn’t an option for me, unfortunately.

I hated not knowing where he would go. His body held his soul, now where would it be? 

The saddest part was, at night, when we were in bed, he would sit there staring at me. He was so weak he could no longer sit steadily, so he swayed from side to side, with his little tongue hanging out and a desperate look in his eyes.

He sat like that watching me for hours, struggling to stay awake. I told him to sleep, that he was allowed to sleep, but he was always so stubborn. I think he knew that if he slept, he might not wake up.

He also started following me around everywhere, falling over but determined not to let me out of his sight. He was fighting so hard. 

Two weeks after he got sick, he stopped eating. He was telling me it was time. I called the vet and sobbed, as I told them how bad he was and asked if I was doing the right thing. They assured me, that I was.

My best friend would leave the world at 12:45pm the next day, a Saturday.

My last night with him was heart-wrenching. He kept waking me up for cuddles (which was extremely unlike him) and he couldn’t settle at all. He knew he didn’t have much longer. 

That morning, I walked around like a zombie, trying to disassociate with the reality of what was about to happen. My mum arrived to say her goodbyes and we both sat with him, comforting him. He just laid there, too tired to move. Together we cried, quietly as we didn’t want to upset him. 

It was time for the sedative. He would not take the pill so I crushed it, mixed it with water and used a syringe to slowly administer it. He started coughing shortly after, something that haunts me still.

I wanted it to be peaceful but he coughed and coughed for a couple of minutes and then started to fall asleep. He wasn’t completely asleep, his little eyes peeked open from time to time.

I picked him up, he had his little woollen jersey on as he was always so cold now. I wrapped him in blankets as we left the house, the house he would never return to. His home, our home.

The drive there was devastating, knowing these were our last moments with him. I held him and told him what a good little boy he was, I told him he could go to the angels, that I would be OK. I told him he had been so brave through everything and that I was proud of him.

He was breathing heavily and struggling against the sedative, trying so hard to keep his eyes open. 

Once we got to the vet, we sat with him a while, cherishing every last second in his presence. Then before we knew it, we were in the vet’s room. This was it. He was going to die, my Ollie. It took every ounce of strength to remain composed.

I laid him on the table all wrapped in his favourite blankets. I later regretted not bringing his bed for him to lay on, I needed this to be as comfortable as possible. 

I felt out of control, I could not help him now. It was out of my hands but I knew I had to let go, for him. I had to stay strong, even though I was crumbling away inside. I assumed the vet would take his time but it was rushed.

Before I knew it, he had the needle out, and he said “this will be just like him going to sleep”. I panicked and said, “but, wait, can I hold him?” but they started preparing him and seemed in a rush, so I just cradled him holding his head in my hands. 

He was very sleepy and relaxed, thankfully. His eyes were closed so I just leaned in and spoke gently in his ear saying “It’s OK Ollie, it’s OK. I love you, I love you so, so much, you’re such a good boy, you’re such a good boy” My eyes were closed, as I whispered to him.

I felt his little head relax more in my hand and I said “He’s gone isn’t he?”. The vet checked his heart and said “he’s gone”. I felt a surge of emotion I had never felt in my life, go through my gut, up my body and out through my mouth, in a wail of pain and complete anguish that floored me. It was like his soul went through me.

I opened my eyes and saw him, his eyes had opened now that his muscles had relaxed, and there was no life in them now. I looked over at my mum who was beside herself and cried out “mum!!!!” we sobbed and cuddled, something we don’t often do.

The vet left us with Ollie and we kissed him, patted him and I smelt him for the last time. I cut away some of his fur from all my favourite spots. He looked so different now. It was strange seeing him so still. His little tummy wasn’t moving with every breath, like before.

I took his collar from his neck, he looked naked without it. I wrapped him in his blanket and slowly walked out. I could have stayed there forever.

In a daze, the nurse and I discussed the cremation and I told them what to write on his urn. I had it inscribed to say “My best friend, I’ll love you forever”. 

Later, I regretted not taking him home. I needed more time with him. It was the weekend after all, I knew he would be left there, alone and cold. Leaving him there was the worst. Mum spent the evening with me. I was so lost, I felt like I was floating and not really present. Was this real? 

The moment mum left, it hit me and it hit me hard. I was alone in my house. Ollie was dead. He was gone and I would never see him again. I would never be able to touch him again and there was nothing I could do about it.

I fell to my knees and wailed. I screamed and sobbed harder than I have in my life. I held his little camo t-shirt, it smelt like him so much.

The next few days were utter agony, slowly packing away his things. Adjusting to the silence in the house. I actually felt like I had no reason to live anymore. 

The vet called on the Thursday and I immediately said “is he ready?”, before the nurse even got a word in. She paused then said “yes”. I burst into tears, there was nothing left of him. He was nothing but ashes now.

I kept my promise to him, even though the last 7 months have been the darkest of my life. I have had a few slip ups, but I keep telling myself, you promised him. 

So, Ollie, if you are reading this somehow from Rainbow Bridge, I need you to know that you were the most beautiful part of my life. I know I wasn’t a perfect mum. I know I could have been more patient, more attentive, happier and more stable.

Losing you made me realise that you were all I ever needed. Because, I had something not everyone gets to experience in life. A real connection with another soul. One that cannot be explained. 

When you left, you took a piece of me that I can never get back. You will always be my baby and death cannot keep us apart, nor can it take away what we had. Thank you for being such a wonderful dog and the best, most loyal friend anyone could ever ask for.

Thank you for sending me the little fluffy white feathers when I asked you to. I kept them all. I will cherish you and your memory forever. 

I hope when I pass away one day, you will be there waiting for me. Ready to lead me home, like you always did.

I love you, Ollie. Till we meet again, my precious little boy x