My dear Juliet, a 13-year-old longcoat chihuahua who was diagnosed with Cushing's disease in 2001, died in my arms last night. She'd started going down, and I learned a few weeks ago that her Cushing's was out of control and also that she had become diabetic. Plus, she was hobbling badly and seemed to be in pain. She had become completely incontinent, which seemed to distress her because she knew she wasn't supposed to go in the house. Then, increasingly, listless. When she stopped begging for her biscuit, I knew she was dying.
The vet did not want to give Julie insulin until we got her Cushing's under control, so I was in the upping-the-dosage drill with her Lysodren. A few days ago, she stopped eating and really started going down. I'd made an appointment for today (Thursday afternoon) to have the vet come to the house and put her down, but she died during the night. At 3 a.m., I awakened to hear her crying, I think as much in fear as in pain. After almost three hours of increasing discomfort and labored breathing, while I held her and soothed her as best I could, she went through major throes for a few minutes (an eternity!), then came to rest in my arms. At 7:30 a.m., I was at the vet's office with her body.
And now I'm having a hard time....
I know she's being cremated and her ashes will be returned to me soon. Her brother is taking it all much better than I expected. But I'm talking to my Juliet as if she were here--and not in that healthy, spiritually connected way. Although rationally I know I did everything I could, I'm starting to obsess on the idea that she suffered too much in the end. I wouldn't say I'm beating myself up about it; more like I just keep feeling her pain and distress in my own body.
This little dog literally saved my life ten years ago. I feel like we were connected in more ways than one, and I'm taking it harder than I expected to. I thought at first it might be the whole identification/mortality thing, but it's really more that it hurts me so much to know that her death was not an easy one; that I witnessed, and felt, in absolute presence her deepest suffering. Now I can't seem to get past that process, even as I am relieved and happy for her that she is in painless peace now. I almost feel like I took some of her pain into me to help ease her through, and now I can't seem to release it from my own body.
So, please, if you had a beloved pet die at home without benefit of a vet's medicated easing through, will you please share your experience with me and how you dealt with it? All I can find online is stories of how a dog just peacefully went to sleep or coughed for a few seconds then died--or that the vet put the dog to sleep and how peaceful and loving it was. I need to know what a "normal" death is like for an animal that is chronically ill and dies without intervention. This death was loving, but definitely not peaceful or quick. Julie was in varying stages of discomfort and distress for hours. I gave her lots of Reiki and love; it's all I could do. But I'm feeling almost traumatized over it now. That's healthy, I'm sure--better than numbing out to it--but I need to be able to put my experience in a rational context of what is normal/typical for dogs in order to get past it. Can you help me?