A Girl and Her Dog: When Pets Die

A Girl and Her Dog: When Pets Die

She was 13 but we only had her for the last 5 years – Coco had come to my family unexpectedly. She needed a home and I felt that my parents needed a new dog. I told them she would just be there on a “trial run” but I knew better. They were instant goners and by the first night there was no “trial run”; there was just Coco.

Like any dog she had quirks and a personality that spoke louder than words. She loved cheese and her favorite spot was in the front yard keeping watch with her little paws crossed. She welcomed us home by excitedly herding us to the refrigerator or snack corner where she would whack our legs with her snout until she got a treat – that playful little gag always got me. But there was more than that too. She was comforting, she liked having me around and I thought her company was wonderful. Sometimes it felt like I knew her language, we were true buddies; I was her girl and she was my dog.

We had known about a bad tumor for a few months but it wasn’t until she lost interest in her favorite foods and began struggling to walk or get up that we started to think about how we would say goodbye.

I told my dad that I didn’t want to put her in a car or take her to the vet – two things she really hated. I wanted her to die at home and he found an answer for me with the company Lap of Love.  She would be euthanized at our house in a few days so we had time to say goodbye and be with her and then she would be out of pain.

On the day before her appointment I took her on our last walk together. She LOVED walks and I could tell that even though her body wasn’t allowing her to give me the full show of her enthusiasm, her determined stare through the screen door said, “Let’s go”. We went slowly at her pace and were gone a long time. She even laid down at the park and just looked around, something the Coco I knew would never have had the patience for. It seemed like she somehow knew she would never be there again and wanted to take it in one last time. It was a tearful, special and heart torn walk.

Her last day came and we spent it out in the front yard, basking in the sun and petting her as much as we could.

I found that I was somehow dreading and also wanting the doctor to come. I now wanted it all to be over almost as much as I hated the idea of it. One moment I would think, “this is right, she is really not herself,” and the next my hope would spring up and wonder if she might yet get better and have another month or another summer to spend with me.

But then the doctor arrived and my heart sank. She sweetly and calmly walked up, greeted my family and then met Coco, petting her so kindly and telling me what a sweet dog she was – it was so nice to hear. She then explained what she would do and what Coco would experience. My mom and dad went inside with the vet and signed the paperwork and Coco followed them, not knowing it was her last afternoon, her last walk inside. Somehow, when you know it’s the last time it is just agony and beauty all at once.

We put Coco on some soft blankets my mom had laid out and we petted her while the vet gave her the shot that would relax her before the last shot. She struggled to stay standing but her body gave in and soon she  was down on the ground in my arms and in a deep sleep. My parents each had one of her front paws in their hands, my husband rubbed her sweet head and my arms cradled her neck and held her close.

Then she was gone, she was gone but we couldn’t stop crying or petting, kissing and hugging her dear little body. My dad and husband lifted her onto a cot and carried her to the vet’s car. My mom snuck in a piece of cheese & a chicken stick to go on the journey with her.

The car pulled away and the moments that followed were a pure panic inside of me, my friend was gone and I didn’t know what to do. What did the house even look like or mean without her? How could she be really gone? Who would love me like her?

We made pancakes (another of her & my favorite foods) and seemed to fall into stories about her almost immediately. We found ourselves laughing at the crazy things she had done, we were fighting to remember, to tell all and keep her alive. I found videos I had taken of her and was shocked to see just how spry, energetic and bouncy she had once been. She really had been so sick, the decline was just so steady that the true weight of it didn’t hit me until I was looking backward.

We’ve done a few things to memorialize her; we put a pancake and some cheese in the hole she loved to dig for lizards in, we had her cremated (part of the Lap of Love service), and I sent away to FeltPets for a custom felt sculpture. I sent in photos and answered her sweet and detailed questions and a few weeks later received this:

I still miss her, grieve her and think I see her around the corners of my parents house. Pet losses are rarely acknowledged for being as significant as they are. I know that I felt unable to share about it with close friends who either minimized or were afraid of my grief; someone said to me as I tried to show them a picture, “oh, it’s ok, I don’t want you to get sad,” and it stopped me in my tracks. I already was sad but they didn’t know that allowing me to talk would have been so much better than trying to “spare me”.

on our last day together, enjoying some cheese!

I want to encourage any of you who have had pets die to share a tribute to your pet below, tell me some of your favorite memories with them or some of their funny quirks. I know you still miss them because I think I will always miss Coco. She was somehow more than just a dog, she was a kindred spirit and a true friend.

|| Share Your Story:

What is your experience with a pet dying?

How have you paid tribute to your pets?

Molly Keating
Molly Keating
Hello! I'm Molly and I run & manage the Blog here at O'Connor. I grew up in a mortuary with a mortician for a father who's deep respect for the profession inspired me to give working at a mortuary a try. Work at O'Connor has brought together two of my deep passions, writing & grief awareness. In 2016 I earned Certification in the field of Thanatology, the study of Death, Dying and Bereavement. I am honored to be able to speak on these taboo topics with knowledge, compassion, and a unique perspective. I want to sincerely thank you for following & reading the blog, I hope that this is a healing place for you.

53 Comments

  1. Oh momma,
    It was a labor of love writing this post – choosing the pictures was almost as hard as writing it. How do you encapsulate a life into 1,000 words, your favorite memories and looks in a few pictures? It’s agony to try and do but the sweetness of sharing the story helps.
    Thank you for feeling this was such an important thing to do. You were such a caretaker for her, quietly loving, feeding, cleaning and enjoying her crazy, narcissistic & broken-brain ways. She lived so long because she was in a home that cherished and cared for her like she had been there all along.

    I love how you loved her & want to thank you, with dad, for giving me such a precious and important day with her.

    Molly

  2. Mark says:

    Molly……your description of your dog was very touching….I was reminded of my own dog Suzy that we had to put down….one of the saddest days of my life….thanks for sharing your journey with Coco…it brought back great memories of Suzy…..Mark

  3. Joe Lavoie says:

    Molly what a caring story about your families love for coco , I too had my german shepherd jax and had to share the last day with him but I took him to the family vet and we spent that time together but under a different setting. I wished I had known now about the laps of love and I am sure I would have done that for jax. Thanks so much for sharing your story and now I know how I can make that time more meaningful for our current canine friends and easier for my family . Thanks again so much for sharing.
    sincerely , Joe

    • Joe,
      I didn’t know about Jax, what a great name! I’m so sorry that you had to put him down. We put my first 2 dogs down at the vet and it was so hard. It wasn’t any easier losing her at home but the comfort of keeping her home vs. somewhere she hated was very comforting.
      I’m glad you found this useful & brought back memories of Jax for you!

      Molly

  4. Carrie Bayer says:

    Dear Molly, I’m in tears. Coco was such a sweet girl & I’m grateful I got to meet her. I absolutely love this deeply descriptive moment thought it is full of heartache. When it’s time for me to say goodbye to my next pet, I plan on doing it this exact way- thank you for the information! I remember having to euthanize my 17 year old cat, Kissy who was dying of kidney failure. On her last day, I set her outside on my balcony to soak up the sun & watch the birds. She lay there for a few hours, not moving. I knew it was time. I took her to the vet, they sedated her then placed her in my arms. She fought the sedation which was very traumatizing to me. The tech struggled to give the last injection because Kissy was fighting back. I felt like I was doing something wrong by holding her tightly for this. I still wonder if she was trying to tell me she wasn’t ready. Once she died, I held her & cried for what felt like forever. I had a hard time giving her body to the tech. I picked up her urn a few weeks later then buried her a few years after that. I still miss my sweet Kissy. XOXOXO, Carrie

    • Carrie,
      Kissy is very likely the absolute sweetest name I’ve ever heart for a cat – oh my goodness! I know how deeply you love and care for your animals and I know that your last day with Kissy was exactly what you and she needed. Coco fought us on the sedation too, I think it’s part of the animal instinct to struggle against death (it is for us as well but we fight so differently). I believe it was Kissy’s time, you spared her pain and hardship she didn’t know was ahead for her.
      I hope you find peace in your decision my dear, when you care for an animal you are taking charge of their needs and making the tough calls out of your love for them and that’s what you did for her – I think part of her struggle was not wanting to leave you <3

      Thank you so much for reading & loving my little Coco sculpture, I can’t tell you how good it is for my soul to see others love and admire her.

      Molly

  5. Michael Thomas says:

    We as a family have never been too big on pets, but my best friend always has about 6 dogs living in his house at any given time. When you spend most of your time growing up in a place like that, you become so attached to each one. I became one of those people to them where from the moment I opened the front gate, at least 3 of them would be quietly waiting at the front door for me to come inside. (Thats huge, because they absolutely lose their minds when a stranger approaches) I have seen so many of the dogs come and go, and each one hurts a little bit more as I have been more involved in their upbringing, from puppy to adult. I would always rather not see them go, but would I trade the joy they bring me in the 10-15 years they are around for the pain I feel of losing them? Absolutely not. Thank you Molly. Good luck with transitioning, and I hope this life has you find plenty more Coco’s.

    • Michael,
      Well said! Thank you so much for your point-of-view, I think it’s right on. The pain is so worth the joy and it always is, that’s why we risk loving and caring for others and for pets.

      While there will never be another Coco, I do feel certain that other kindred spirits will find their way to my home & heart, I hope the same for you.

      Molly

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