Fur Death In The Family: Our Hearts Go Out To Anyone Going Through It

Flower-Week-132

One thing I definitely know is that when I read about the passing of someone’s pet, now more than ever, I will be more empathetic. For instance, I just read about a “fur death” in the family of one of my Twitter connections. My heart went out to her. It’s been 12 days since Flower left us, and there isn’t a day we don’t cry, want to kiss her, want to love her, want to just have more time with that precious little angel. 

We are trying to give each other, the survivors, more love, and love Nigel, Dottie, and Candy more. 

Coping With The Loss of A Beloved Pet

It’s difficult to deal with a pet’s death, no matter if you’ve had them for a month, a decade, or more. We had the pleasure of living with our adopted shih tzu, Flower, for almost eight years. Flower walked out of our arms and over the Rainbow Bridge eight days ago. The above is a picture taken three years ago of her walking over a bridge in our backyard.

Flower brought us so much joy. She was the firecracker of the bunch, our only dog who chased squirrels, our only dog who climbed the tiers in the backyard to escape into the yard behind us, the dog who huffed at me when I yelled at my computer, the dog who barked to signal the arrival of the mailman, the only dog who wiggled with joy when we reached for the drawer where we kept her harness, and the dog who sat between us in the front seat on the way to the park, barely able to contain her excitement about the upcoming walk.

She was our beautiful Flower, and there will never be another dog like her. Our four dogs all filled a unique spot in our home, and her spot will now remain empty, causing a hole in our house and in our hearts. I don’t know how we’ll manage to walk the other dogs without her, but I know we’ll get through this, and there will eventually be a new normal we will have to accept. 

We were blindsided by her death on June 2, and we are valiantly trying to hold it together for ourselves and our other three dogs, Dottie, Nigel, and Candy. We have prayed, reached out to friends, talked and talked and talked about this beautiful little furbaby who energized us. We have cried and cried some more.

During the last week, I looked up and read as many articles as I could on coping with grief, and it’s ugly companion, guilt. I hope that some of these links might help others who are going through the same situation and facing the future without their beloved pet. 

If you have anything that helped you cope with your precious pet’s death, please share with me and our readers. My heart goes out to anyone who has gone through, is going through, or will go through the sorrow we are feeling over our beloved Flower. 

I hope these links will help:

5 Ways to Heal When Grieving the Loss of a Pet

6 Stages of Pet Grief and How to Move Through Them

7 Ways to Cope With the Loss of a Pet

A Dangerous Villian: Guilt

A Pet’s Death Can Hurt More Than Losing a Fellow Human

Breaking the Power of Guilt 

Comforting Prayers for the Loss of a Beloved Dog or Cat

Coping With an Empty Home When You Miss Your Best Friend

Coping With Losing a Pet

Coping With The Death of Your Pet

Coping With The Loss of A Fur Baby: Pet Grieving Support Group

Coping With The Loss Of A Pet

Coping With Your Pet’s Death: An Important Guide

Dealing With Guilt After Pet Loss

Dealing With The Guilt

Four Steps To Take After Experiencing Pet Loss

Grieving for the Loss of a Pet: Pet Loss Quotes

How Do You Forgive Yourself?

How to Cope With The Loss of a Loved Pet

How to Deal With Guilt After the Loss of Your Dog

How to Deal With Guilty Feelings After Your Dog’s Death

How to Deal With the Death of Your Dog

How To Mindfully Grieve The Death Of A Pet

I Miss My Dog: Has Grief for a Dog Who Died Ever Overwhelmed You?

Loss and The Burden of Guilt

The Double Whammy of Death and Guilt

My Died Died and I Can’t Get Over It

My Pet Died and I think It’s My Fault

On Grieving a Dog You Rescued

The Emotions of Pet Loss

Things I Wish I Had Known When My Dog Died

Understanding and Coping With The Loss of a Pet

What To Say To Someone Grieving The Loss of a Pet

Why Losing a Dog Can Be Harder Than Losing a Relative

Why The Loss of Your Pet Could Be The Hardest to Bear

Why Can’t I Get Over My Dog’s Death?

Why Your Dog’s Death May Be The Most Difficult Event Of Your Life

You’re Not Crazy, You’re Mourning: Grief from the Loss of Your Dog

Rainbow Bridge

Day 6: Dreaming About Flower

A shih tzu investigates blanket flowers (Gaillardia).

Flower investigates the blanket flowers (Gaillardia).

I had a dream about Flower last night. It was an immensely sad dream. Maybe it was sort of a “do-over” dream. As usual, I can’t remember it exactly as it happened. I wasn’t somewhere I’m familiar with. At some point, I looked down and Flower was having a problem breathing. There was a blue “light” shining out of her nose, and I knew I had to rush her to get help. I picked her up and got in a car. I think my mother was driving, which is also surreal since my mother passed away last year after suffering from Alzheimer’s. Also, my mother didn’t drive for the last few decades of her life. I woke up while we were still driving, my beloved Flower in my arms. 

When I woke up, I felt the heaviness of her loss. All I could do was ask God to wrap me up like a warm sweater and comfort me. For all of you pet owners who have felt this same grief or who are going through it now, I feel your pain so deeply. Life goes on, but Flower, I wish you were walking through it with us still. 

Here’s one more picture of her, from several years ago, most likely anxious to get to the nature center and start that walk! Dottie is in the background. 

Flower Shih Tzu

Day 3: Missing Flower

It’s been a while since I’ve blogged about our three “shih tzu” half-sisters and Nigel. I wish the reason for writing this was a happy one, but it isn’t. 

This is the third day of mourning our dear, precious Flower. I don’t even know how I’m going to write this. I just know that I must honor her and the time we had with her, as painful as it is.

Just a few days ago, I would have never thought that Flower wouldn’t be staring up from her dog bed, with those beautiful eyes, or sitting on her end table by the couch staring out the window, waiting for a squirrel to show up, or perhaps thinking about the walk she took the week before. I guess I really like this picture because this was where she sat when she wasn’t in a dog bed or on the end table. She shared this couch with John when he was watching TV, but had it to herself the rest of the time. 

One of the horribly painful parts of this is that until the night before she died, we had no idea Flower was sick. Our last outing had been to the Majestic View Nature Center the Sunday before. As usual, Flower had sat in the front seat between us, anxiously waiting to get to the park. I had taken the dogs to the vet the week before to get heartworm tests and medicine and had misplaced a leash, so I carried Dottie and walked Nigel, while John walked Flower and Candy, as usual.

I took a shortcut, which I often did, and waited with Nigel and Dottie, watching as John came towards us with Flower and Candy. Nothing seemed strange to me, although Flower didn’t come up front to sit with us on the way home. I also didn’t notice anything different about her for the rest of the week. Maybe she slept a little more than usual, but I really couldn’t say. She panted one day, but I thought she was hot and I didn’t see her panting after that. 

John and I went to look for flowers for the garden on Saturday morning, June 1. We were so excited for it to be June and that our perennials would soon be blooming. We bought several annuals for our raised bed, stopped to eat, and then headed home. It was raining and I heard thunder as we got close to the house. That’s always a worry because Flower is scared of thunder. 

When we got home, she was under the dining room table. I knew she had been scared but that’s all I thought. Later on, I noticed Flower was breathing rapidly and it seemed like she was trying to throw up, but she didn’t. We talked about what could be the problem. I was a little uneasy about it, but we decided that we would check on her in the morning, and if we had to, take her to urgent care. In the morning, she wasn’t retching, but she was still having trouble breathing. I had looked at reviews for urgent care vets near us and called the one with the best reviews. I told them the symptoms. The person who answered the phone said I should take her somewhere soon but she suggested other places since they were very busy. She said it would be less hectic in a few hours if we did wait.

I decided I would wait a couple of hours and take her there because I didn’t want to go to the places that were suggested due to their reviews. A few times Flower tried to get up, but she fell, and I knew she was weak. Once, she went outside to sit by John on the patio, and we thought that was a good sign. But when she fell again, and then I noticed bubbles in her nose, I said we had to leave. 

We hoped and prayed on the way there that they could take care of her. John handed her to the woman at the front desk and she asked if we wanted them to do CPR. Through my tears, I said yes. In a few minutes, they brought her back and said she was gone. 

John asked the vet what he thought happened and she said that if she were to guess, she’d say congestive heart failure. The entire time they talked, I paced back and forth, crying, unbelieving it was happening, had happened. How could it be possible that Flower was suddenly gone?? 

I couldn’t bear to leave her there, so we brought her home in a box. All I can say to her is this: Our inadequacies and our wrong decision not to take you to the vet the night before don’t at all reflect our love for you, Flower. We loved you dearly and we will be mourning you for a long, long time. Our hearts are broken.