When are we getting a new Dog?

When people find out that we had to put our beloved dog, Zoey down the first thing people ask is "When are you getting a new dog?".  Or, the advice we receive is that the perfect thing to help your mourning heart is to replace your dog with a puppy.  Although well meaning statements - its actually a bit insulting.

When a spouse dies do we ask the person "when are you going to remarry to replace your spouse?"  Or if a child dies, do we ask the parents "when are you going to have another child to replace your dead child?"  Sounds very insensitive and absurd don't you think?  So why is it that people think that the best thing to do after a pet dies is to replace that beloved pet with another?

I've been partially responsible for the "death" of three dogs in my adult life.  The first dog was my precious and precocious Brittany Spaniel, Kayleigh.  I moved from my parent's home into my own condo with the intentions of eventually bring her with me once grass was growing in my yard.  She resided with my parents and was really truly my Mom's dog and my Dad was her master - I was merely her friend.  Me moving out escalated her decline in health, I sort upset the family balance.  She was very incontinent and being that I was scraping the bottom of the barrel to make ends meet, I couldn't afford the extensive testing the vets required to get to the bottom of things.  She started to get sluggish and just wasn't the same dog.  My parents ultimately decided to put her down, but they wanted my consent.  So after weeks of fighting them, I sadly consented.  They took her one day while I was at work, I never got the chance to give her that one last hug and kiss to say I'm sorry and goodbye.  It took a long time to recover from this.

When I met my husband, he had a sweet Beagle he named Flyer.  Flyer was one of the sweetest dogs I have ever known but he was so very needy.  One day after he pretty much attacked me with love and affection ripped a pair of tights and covered me with dog fur when I arrived at my husband's home - I told him I don't think we can keep this dog when we marry.  Kid you not, a couple of weeks later the dog got deathly ill.  It was the saddest animal sickness I have ever witnessed.  I felt guilty for so long for telling my husband that we might need to find a new home for his dog after we marry.  I helped try to nurse his little body to health and loved him until his last breath.  I cried buckets.  I was so glad I was able to pet his head and talk to him softly before he ran off to heaven.  My heart was doubly heavy because we lost Flyer and because of the guilt I had that my Kayleigh never had a proper goodbye. My parents couldn't stomach watching her die - so they left her with the vets staff to send her off to heaven.  She went without a last hug from me.

It took a couple of years of marriage before my husband and I agreed we were ready for a dog.  We were so ready when Zoey arrived - we had healed and were ready to open our hearts up to a dog once again. Zoey was a sweet, loving, playful companion.  She was a black labrador retriever.  We carefully picked the kind of dog we wanted - and we knew one thing, we could never ever get another Brittany Spaniel or Beagle because we could never replace the dogs we once had and loved so dearly.

I had a very up and down relationship with my dog since we had our children.  The dog came first and I loved her so.  With each child, a part of my heart had to be transferred over to each child to love and care for.  It was hard for the dog.  She started to be a bit "naughty".  She escaped from our back yard and from the front door.  At one point I had attempted and almost found her a good home.  My husband begged to differ and begged me to reconsider.  I eventually caved because even though my dog was being a pain in the butt, I loved her so!  I always felt guilty when Zoey got left behind because I just wanted to take a walk to my parents' home and not have to worry about the dog.  Or wanted to be able to go inside the house instead of sitting outside.  One night my husband was on a business trip and was on his way home, the kids, dog and I were going to go for our nightly walk that April evening last year.  The weather was so nice and kids were playing outside and my kids wanted to play too.  I knew that if we took our walk the kids wouldn't be able to play with the kids because it would be too late.  So instead of walking with the dog, I put her in our back yard to play with a neighbor's dog.  The two dogs were having so much fun.  That evening when we were getting ready for bed, I noticed the dog was struggling to walk.  The next day she was worse, and it turns out she had a partial tear to her ACL.  To this day, I feel guilty that I  didn't walk her and instead let her play with another dog and then she got hurt from playing so hard. Even though the vets kept telling me she was most likely predisposed, I still harbor a lot of guilt over this injury.

When she finally had surgery done, I sat with her the night she came home while she cried and whimpered in pain while my husband took the kids out for the evening.  My husband slept on the couch to keep her company and help her through the night.  I spent 12 weeks caring for and helping her heal from the surgery.  I had to help an 80 pound dog up and down stairs, walk her up and down the street until she did her business and then help her back into the house - several times a day.  I gave her medicine and we did the required therapy.  I put my heart and soul into trying to get her better, yet she still walked with a limp.  Come mid-December (about 5 months post surgery) she got really sick. She threw-up non-stop.  After several days of back and forth to the vets with IV fluids to help hydrate her we find out that her meds were making her very very sick.  We almost lost Zoey a couple of days before Christmas.  Once they realized what the problem was, we were able to nurse her back to health.  I remember one afternoon when I was alone with the dog in the study, I sat down petted her and sobbed into her shoulder.  I told her I needed her, she couldn't leave me because I needed her.  I pleaded with her and God to let her get through this horrible situation.  The next day she started to get better.

So the very cold Saturday evening in January when my dog was outside in the back yard doing her business as they say, and I saw her struggling up the last step of the deck stairs with what was her good hind leg up in the air - I realized she had blown the other ACL.  I shrieked and literally collapsed to the floor.  I knew that we were going to have to put her down.  We didn't have the money for a second ACL surgery (which was why I spent the better part of 6 months keeping her activity level down) because we had private school tuition awaiting, possible heart procedure/surgery for my son and we just didn't have $10,000 laying around to do the surgery right this time around.  I, to this day, don't understand why we never got "pet health insurance" for Zoey.  Also, Zoey was limited in post surgery pain and anti-inflammatory medicines, given her issue a month earlier.

There is a lot of emotion that sits inside of me with Zoey.  Her death hit me so hard that I had friends and my husband worried about my mental health and pushed me to see my doctor for the anxiety and sadness I was feeling.

I can't dream of ever replacing Zoey.  She was one of a kind.  I miss her and always will.

Someday, we will get another dog, I'm pretty sure.  I'm pretty confident it won't be a black lab, because there is only one black lab in my life and that was Zoey.  My heart needs to mend, I need to get passed the guilt.  Guilt over the thought that I may have been able to prevent the original injury had I just taken her for a walk, the guilt of having to put my kid's futures ahead of my dog's immediate need, the guilt of having to "play God", the guilt of wanting to get rid of her a year ago because life was getting just a little too crazy and she was just one more "thing" that needed me.  Turns out, I probably needed her more than I knew and more than she ever needed me!

So when you come across a person who has recently lost a beloved pet, just listen to their sadness, offer a hug but don't ask if they will ever replace their beloved dog - because one will never be able to "replace" a beloved pet.