this is going to take a long time

i am a fucking wreck. i can have some stretches of time where i can manage to not focus on tucker’s death but as soon as the thought comes completely into my head i am done.  i get light headed. like almost on the verge of a hyperventilating panic attack but i am able to JUST keep it together.

today i thought a lot about how totally messed up it is to actually witness something die. like totally natural, no one there to walk you through it and let you know what to expect, death.

you don’t really know what is happening and you are helpless to stop it even though every fiber of your being is screaming to make it stop and you are so scared because in a split second your realize – this is death.

some messages i have received from friends and family have struck me in a certain way that makes me look at what happened from a slightly different angle. today i got a message from a friend that said “although upsetting to be there when it happened, what a gift for him that you were”.  reading this it dawned on me that this is not about me and my feelings. it is about him and his. yes, it was hard and i’m struggling with processing it all, but we take on the responsibility of a life.  they give us so much joy and love, they deserve for us to take the brunt of the pain.  we really do owe them that.

i am riddled with guilt because in the moment, i was scared and i am having a hard time separating that i was scared of what was happening, i was not actually scared of Tucker. but because what was happening to him was so scary i do feel like in his last moments on earth i was too scared to fully embrace him.  i was touching him and then jumped back a bit as he made one large final movement of stretching.  did i let him down in his final moment by breaking my touch on his body? or did he leave while i was in fact comforting him and the physical movements were just the involuntary movements of death that take place in the body?  this is where i am at in processing my sweet boys passing. these the dreadful thoughts that are filling my mind today. i guess it is all part of the grieving process.

i am hopeful that each day the good, loving memories of our life together will start to take over.




i’m crippled with sadness today.

i lost my first baby today. the love of my life.  the one that taught me unconditional love and responsibility.  the one i took care of when i was too young and immature to even take care of myself.  my fur baby. my once in a lifetime pal.

Tucker.  My little Tuckybear. My sweet baby boy.


he was 13 and a half and in dog years that is a great run but i had a much older age in mind and i was not even close to thinking of the end for him.

we woke at 3 am to his laboured breathing.  we tried to get him to get up but he could not move.  we tried lifting him up but his legs just crumpled beneath him. i called an urgent care clinic. i came back upstairs to get dressed and his breathing was lighter.  i crouched beside him to see how he was doing. i cradled his face and pet his neck.  all of a sudden he stretched all of his legs out long, stretched his neck back towards me and then he was gone.


when you don’t see death on a regular basis it’s scary and confusing.  it is helpless. it is terrifying. it is pure sadness.

he convulsed ever so slightly, twice, and each time i thought “no! he’s okay. he’s okay right? no, he’s gone. he’s gone? he’s gone!”

how did this happen. how did this happen so fast. it’s was only about 15 minutes. we couldn’t have even gotten him to a clinic in time.

i said good bye. the hours felt like minutes. it was 5 a.m. and i was taking my sweet boy for one last car ride.  i kept it together the best i could while filling out paperwork and paying for his cremation.  the tech and vet lifted him from the car and brought him into the clinic and placed him on a cold metal gurney.  i hated this but he was wrapped in his thick brown blanket so he looked comfortable enough.  i knew that he could not feel it but i was just feeling everything for him.  i needed everything to be the best it could be for him until the moment i had to leave him.

the vet checked his belly. it was tight.  she asked to check his abdomen.  i agreed.  one quick poke and we had an answer.  he had a massive internal bleed.  his exterior was peppered with small to medium fatty masses.  it is only natural to believe his insides were the same.  she said it was most likely a tumor on the spleen or liver that had ruptured. this is very common in old dogs and is a painless way to go. from what we witnessed it did seem to be painless. some laboured breathing as his lungs were put under pressure and then just a quiet passing as he felt sleepy and closed his eyes forever.  she said most owners come home to their pets gone and they have the agony of not being there for them in the last moments.  it was hard to witness but my boy died in his home, in his favourite place to be, at the foot of our bed and we were there beside him to help him pass, hopefully, without fear.

i was not ready for this. not even one bit. he was old but he was still full of life.  he was wobbly on his feet at times and his hips hurt to get up but he was still by my side and excited to go out on adventures and begging for food at my lap every night.  he still had a spark.

i think that is probably best though. he was happy and full of life and capable until his last day.  the alternative could have been suffering and questioning if everything i did for him right.

i keep delaying getting into bed. i can’t stand that tomorrow is the first day that he will not be with me. i don’t want that day to come.  if i just stay awake it will still be the same day and it will be a day that i was able to stroke his soft fur and feel his warm breath.  hear his feet click along the hardwood floor and his collar tags jingle.

i was not ready for this. not even a little bit. i honestly don’t know my life without him in it anymore.  i am numb but at the same time i am so full of pain.

my sweet, sweet, sweet baby boy.