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My heart is breaking for Vestri today. She has lost her cat, whom she loved very much. Many people regard pets as simply a possession or even a nuisance. Some of us, however find them much more appealing and lovable than most people. I wrote this some time ago. Vestri's loss brought back many still unresolved feelings I have about losing Havoc. Thinking about it still makes me cry.
I would have never thought it was possible to have a spiritual connection to a dog, until we got Havoc. I saw him at the pound on three occasions before we adopted him. On the first two trips we looked at other dogs (puppies) that we tried to adopt, but they were already taken by the time we made an offer. He was a year old, a blue-tick coon hound, that was surrendered because he chased cattle. Both times, I paused in front of his cage and we looked into each others eyes. He had soulful eyes that held a wisdom I do not usually associate with dogs. He just seemed to know that we were meant for each other.
When I finally brought him home, he fit so well into our pack. We had two other dogs at the time and were having problems, because puppy Rosco was driving old-man Max crazy. Havoc was the perfect buffer between them. He played wildly with Rosco, but played gently with Max. He asserted himself into the alpha dog position, but Max never knew it. He would play and submit to Max by rolling over. Funny to see...25 pound, 17 year old Max on top of 65 pound, 1 year old Havoc. He was in my house because my son had talked me into another dog (not too hard to do), but he talked himself into my heart all by himself. He came to us housebroken, trained in basic commands, did not chew on things, only took a few days to break him from chasing the cats. He also picked me. I guess we all just want to be loved and he loved me. He would sit by me with his head on my lap, that was when his 65 pound body was not crawling into my lap. He loved the dog park. He had one Rott that he would play tug of war with every time. Neither of them would give up-they would both keep hold of the rope, until they were both laying down (still growling, panting, holding on). He enjoyed life. He enjoyed us.
I used to take him to work on a regular basis. I work in the field of disabilities in an adult workshop. The clients LOVE animals, but are often rough or loud towards them. Although he had never been trained as a therapy dog, he loved to go to work with me. He put up with hugs, shouts, hard pets and an occasional tug. Everyone knew him and he grinned ear to ear (see his picture on my page, he really smiled) every time they greeted him. He was totally different there, always calm, able to assess each client and would sit or lay down accordingly. Even clients that had severe mental illness (that were hard for staff to connect with) responded to Havoc.
One day when I got home he was sick. He had thrown up in his crate. I let the dogs out and cleaned up his crate. When I went to let them back in he was going into shock. He was cold and staggering and his gums were blue. I literally dragged his 65 pounds out to the car and took off for the emergency vet (it was after regular vet hours.) He struggled to try and get up the entire trip, I think he went into cardiac arrest as we pulled in. I watched as they took him back and began cpr. They worked on him for 40 minutes, I did not want them to give up. They intubated him, started a mainline, and tried shocking a heart rhythm back twice with no luck. The vet finally told me I had to let him go. They cleaned him up, put him in a box and allowed me to take him home. The vet determined after he was gone that he died from an intestinal torsion. My vet assured me that there really was nothing that could have been done, this is almost always fatal, as they go into shock so quickly.
I cried all the way home, my son and I lay next to him in the front yard, holding him and crying. We buried him that night under the fire pit (he always loved the fires). It occurred to me as we were digging a huge hole in the dark, by flashlight, that the neighbors may think we were burying a person.
His death was as hard for me to deal with as the death of any person (maybe worse). I was depressed for months. I still miss him and I still cry (and I don't cry easily). We had 3 other dogs at the time and we got a new puppy last February. Dakota is now 7 months old and 65 pounds. I love all the dogs, but have never felt a strong of a connection as I did with him. He always seemed to know what I was thinking, knew when I was upset, he knew how to comfort me. For those of you who have never loved an animal, I do not expect you to understand. You may even think that I am silly or a bit crazy to be affected this way. I cannot explain it to you, I do not really understand myself. I was surprised at my emotions too. I would love to have another coon hound, but I know that I cannot replace him. I also believe that it was fate (or God, or whatever you believe in) that we were together. I would not change the time I had him to spare the pain I felt over him.
Sometimes when I see what is happening all over the world, I think that it is silly to feel such grief over a dog, but we all need to start somewhere, compassion seems to be at a low ebb these days.
Post script: It has been several years since I lost Havoc, it still hurts. Since then, we lost Max this year, at the ripe old age of 20. That loss was sad, but not the same. Dakota is now over a year old and 100 pounds. He is a beautiful dog and reminds me of Havoc in some ways. Still, I do not love him as deeply. We have also gained a Pitt Bull into our pack. Brigs is a little over a year old and is a sweetie. We also have one elderly cat, Cybil, who rules the roost. I may complain about the dirt, the hair and the cost of our pets, but I love them dearly. I prefer them to many humans. I also know that I will probably outlive everyone of them, sadly, and I will cry over every loss. I no longer think it is silly to grieve that much over an animal, I believe that they have the ability to teach us love and compassion.
I would have never thought it was possible to have a spiritual connection to a dog, until we got Havoc. I saw him at the pound on three occasions before we adopted him. On the first two trips we looked at other dogs (puppies) that we tried to adopt, but they were already taken by the time we made an offer. He was a year old, a blue-tick coon hound, that was surrendered because he chased cattle. Both times, I paused in front of his cage and we looked into each others eyes. He had soulful eyes that held a wisdom I do not usually associate with dogs. He just seemed to know that we were meant for each other.
When I finally brought him home, he fit so well into our pack. We had two other dogs at the time and were having problems, because puppy Rosco was driving old-man Max crazy. Havoc was the perfect buffer between them. He played wildly with Rosco, but played gently with Max. He asserted himself into the alpha dog position, but Max never knew it. He would play and submit to Max by rolling over. Funny to see...25 pound, 17 year old Max on top of 65 pound, 1 year old Havoc. He was in my house because my son had talked me into another dog (not too hard to do), but he talked himself into my heart all by himself. He came to us housebroken, trained in basic commands, did not chew on things, only took a few days to break him from chasing the cats. He also picked me. I guess we all just want to be loved and he loved me. He would sit by me with his head on my lap, that was when his 65 pound body was not crawling into my lap. He loved the dog park. He had one Rott that he would play tug of war with every time. Neither of them would give up-they would both keep hold of the rope, until they were both laying down (still growling, panting, holding on). He enjoyed life. He enjoyed us.
I used to take him to work on a regular basis. I work in the field of disabilities in an adult workshop. The clients LOVE animals, but are often rough or loud towards them. Although he had never been trained as a therapy dog, he loved to go to work with me. He put up with hugs, shouts, hard pets and an occasional tug. Everyone knew him and he grinned ear to ear (see his picture on my page, he really smiled) every time they greeted him. He was totally different there, always calm, able to assess each client and would sit or lay down accordingly. Even clients that had severe mental illness (that were hard for staff to connect with) responded to Havoc.
One day when I got home he was sick. He had thrown up in his crate. I let the dogs out and cleaned up his crate. When I went to let them back in he was going into shock. He was cold and staggering and his gums were blue. I literally dragged his 65 pounds out to the car and took off for the emergency vet (it was after regular vet hours.) He struggled to try and get up the entire trip, I think he went into cardiac arrest as we pulled in. I watched as they took him back and began cpr. They worked on him for 40 minutes, I did not want them to give up. They intubated him, started a mainline, and tried shocking a heart rhythm back twice with no luck. The vet finally told me I had to let him go. They cleaned him up, put him in a box and allowed me to take him home. The vet determined after he was gone that he died from an intestinal torsion. My vet assured me that there really was nothing that could have been done, this is almost always fatal, as they go into shock so quickly.
I cried all the way home, my son and I lay next to him in the front yard, holding him and crying. We buried him that night under the fire pit (he always loved the fires). It occurred to me as we were digging a huge hole in the dark, by flashlight, that the neighbors may think we were burying a person.
His death was as hard for me to deal with as the death of any person (maybe worse). I was depressed for months. I still miss him and I still cry (and I don't cry easily). We had 3 other dogs at the time and we got a new puppy last February. Dakota is now 7 months old and 65 pounds. I love all the dogs, but have never felt a strong of a connection as I did with him. He always seemed to know what I was thinking, knew when I was upset, he knew how to comfort me. For those of you who have never loved an animal, I do not expect you to understand. You may even think that I am silly or a bit crazy to be affected this way. I cannot explain it to you, I do not really understand myself. I was surprised at my emotions too. I would love to have another coon hound, but I know that I cannot replace him. I also believe that it was fate (or God, or whatever you believe in) that we were together. I would not change the time I had him to spare the pain I felt over him.
Sometimes when I see what is happening all over the world, I think that it is silly to feel such grief over a dog, but we all need to start somewhere, compassion seems to be at a low ebb these days.
Post script: It has been several years since I lost Havoc, it still hurts. Since then, we lost Max this year, at the ripe old age of 20. That loss was sad, but not the same. Dakota is now over a year old and 100 pounds. He is a beautiful dog and reminds me of Havoc in some ways. Still, I do not love him as deeply. We have also gained a Pitt Bull into our pack. Brigs is a little over a year old and is a sweetie. We also have one elderly cat, Cybil, who rules the roost. I may complain about the dirt, the hair and the cost of our pets, but I love them dearly. I prefer them to many humans. I also know that I will probably outlive everyone of them, sadly, and I will cry over every loss. I no longer think it is silly to grieve that much over an animal, I believe that they have the ability to teach us love and compassion.
2 comments:
Those that read this post and don't feel the sting of tears in their eyes have simply never been blessed with the spcial companionship that only be shared with a loving, loyal dog. I dread the day that Sailor passes... I understand the wisdom, empathy and special communication that you shared with Havoc. And that Havoc shared with you.
J
Thank you J. You always seem to understand my innermost feelings and emotions.
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