Sad Christmas

 I've been so consumed by my grief over losing Mama that I haven't really talked about Libby here in a while. To be honest, I've been trying my hardest to live in denial for the past year and a half or so. She's been deaf since sometime in 2020, at least, but she and I had both adjusted to that fairly well. But then sometime in 2021 I noticed that she seemed to get disoriented sometimes. At first, I chalked it up to maybe her eyesight not being all that great but then it became obvious to me that not all of the disorientation was eyesight related. Her behavior really started to change. It was small things at first but over the past year she seemed to fade into a different dog. She was still her, just different. And it was so gradual at first that it took me a while to realize just how much she'd changed. And then she started struggling to get onto or off of the furniture, so I started helping her...which she hated but submitted to. Libby was nothing if not independent. 

Then sometime in the early summer she started soiling herself in her sleep. Her vet gave her some medication that helped with that for a while but eventually she started refusing to take the medication. As she lost more of her sight her sense of scent became stronger, I guess. Then she stopped eating regular food and would only take treats for a while and started losing a lot of weight. And the disorientation became worse and worse. I knew in the back of my mind that my time with her was creeping to an end, but I was holding out hope that it would be a while longer.

But the end did come.

The week of Christmas I started noticing some worsening symptoms of what her vet had diagnosed as canine cognitive dysfunction or dog dementia. She legit forgot how to eat one of her favorite chew treats and I had to take it and cut it into small pieces. She got lost following me around the house while I worked on Christmas chores and ended up napping on the bathroom floor, something she'd never done before. She seemed to forget where I was as soon as she got down from my lap and searched the house for me until I would get up and catch her attention. 

Then Christmas Eve night it all came to a head. She'd been somewhat abnormally disoriented all day but by that night she was running into walls, furniture, people...seeming to ping-pong from one surface to another before she just would finally lay down wherever she was. My family was here to witness all of this as I had hosted Christmas Eve supper which made it all the worse. I couldn't just pick her up and comfort her like I really wanted to. 

For the first time in 16 years, I left her at home Christmas morning. I didn't want to leave her. I really wanted to stay at home with her but again...family. It was Christmas and with Mama gone it was already hard enough on everyone. If I had skipped out it would have been...well, I don't even know what it would have been, but it wouldn't have been good. So, I left her at home and went to Daddy's for breakfast and presents and quietly cried most of the morning. I went back home around 10 to check on her and put my casserole in the oven and sat with her for a couple of hours. I tried to comfort her but she was so agitated that she wouldn't stay in my arms for long. Right before I left to go to my granny's for lunch, I set her on her pallet by the tree and she settled down to sleep and thankfully she was still asleep there when I got back home. But then she woke up agitated again and ping-ponged around the house until she finally just collapsed asleep on her pallet by the tree again. She was sleeping so soundly that when I got up to go to bed I just left her there to sleep and my sister and I kept our doors open to listen for her. Sure enough around 2:30 in the morning we heard her knocking around. She'd gotten herself stuck amid the entryway furniture and couldn't get out. I rescued her, took her out to pee, and then settled her back down to sleep on her pallet in my bedroom. She went right back to sleep and slept until I got up the next morning.

Monday she was worse than the day before so that when I left for breakfast at my Dad's I confined her to the kitchen so that she couldn't get trapped or stuck somewhere. Then after I saw my sister off I went home, set her in my lap and she took a three and a half our nap while I watched two movies on Netflix. It was the longest she'd slept in my lap in months.

I called her vet on Tuesday, the first day they were open since the Thursday before Christmas. We discussed her symptoms and my options and came to the conclusion it was time to let her go. She slept in my lap for an hour or so and I loved on her as much as I could, soaking up the last bit of her that I could. I took her in at 11:30, my dad drove us there and I held her like a baby while the sedative kicked in and then stroked her while she faded away.

I am completely shattered at the loss. My home feels so empty and too quiet. I'm so used to shaping my life around her needs that I feel utterly lost. Even before her health started to decline, I always considered her in every decision I made. I was constantly checking on her, making sure she was okay, petting her, talking to her even after she went deaf. She was always underfoot, always wherever I was in the house. My snacks were her snacks and now eating feels so lonely without her there begging for her share. The nights are so quiet without her snoring or rustling around. Moving around the house is quiet without the little tippy taps of her feet following me. For the past two mornings it's been a sucker punch when I reached for my overshirt, and it hits me that I don't need it because I don't need to take her out. Walking to the bedroom alone at night is the loneliest I've ever been. Rolling over in the middle of the night to check on her just to find her corner is empty makes me stomach cramp.

I've packed up all her treats to give away to family and friends with dogs. I took up all the pee pads from my bedroom floor. I took up her water bowls. I cried when I threw out the boiled chicken I'd made for her Thursday. She'd forgotten how to chew it before she could finish eating it.

But I can't bring myself to take up her food bowl yet. And her pallet on the living room floor in front of the Christmas tree remains because it makes me feel like a part of her is still there.

I had to make myself leave the house today to get myself to stop crying. Sitting here alone during what's left of my Christmas vacation gives me too much time to think about how much I miss her and how unfair it feels to have my already broken heart shattered again.

And it feels like the rest of the world has already forgotten her. But she's all I can think about. 

I know a lot of people think it's silly to grieve a dog like this. But to me she was never just a dog. She was my fur child. The center of my universe. And quite literally she was often my primary reason to get up in the morning. I had to get up because Libby needed to go outside and needed breakfast and a snuggle. I wasn't looking for a pet when she came into my life 16 years ago and I wasn't even sure if I was ready for the responsibility, but I fell in love with her the minute I laid eyes on her and once the shock of having a puppy wore off, she became the center of my universe. Being Libby's mama was my favorite part of my life. Coming home to her made leaving the house everyday worth it.

And now I come home to nothing but the emptiness of her absence. 

I know letting her go was the kindest thing I could ever do for her and taking care of her, providing for her comfort and safety was always my number one priority. I could never live with myself if I put my need to have her here above her comfort and happiness.

I just pray that dogs actually do go to heaven because I'm gonna need to see her again. And I need to think that she's there with my mama having all the cuddles and treats her little fluffy self can handle.