Cinder has moved on
Posted: Sat Oct 31, 2009 9:43 am
Last night I had to do the hardest thing we do in our caring for these furkids. I had to ease Cinder's transition from this world to the next.
Cinder was diagnosed with an inoperable stomach tumor 7 weeks ago. I had been making and pureeing nutrient dense food, and feeding her small frequent meals as the size of her stomach was much reduced and it was difficult for her to eat and keep down enough food to maintain her life. A week ago we saw her vet who was surprised at how well she had done on my regimen. But in the last week she was able to keep down less and less, was less interested in walks and rides(her two favorite things other than food), and spent more and more time pacing restlessly. Yesterday, I finally had to admit to myself that her quality of life was so diminished that I was keeping her around for my comfort, not hers.
So we went on one last walk, and one last car ride, and I held her in my arms and said goodbye as the vet administered an injection and she peacefully left this world. And I thanked the Lord for the ability to end her suffering and cursed him for the responsibility to do the same.
And so in my belief system, she is in heaven, no more pain, no more stress, can hear again and is doing zoomies in a beautiful place. (Not a big fan of the bridge as I don't think my kids should have to wait for me to enter heaven). So, I should be happy and relieved for her, shouldn't I? Instead, I sit here with tears running down my face and miss my little girl and wish she had been with me longer. It was between 5 and 6 years ago that she came home with me from the shelter and ran up the stairs and jumped on the bed in the master bedroom, curling up at the middle of the foot. And found her way into my heart, as they all have. She was not my first dog or even my first chow, but it doesn't get any easier just because I've been through it before.
I hear some say, I just couldn't go through the pain again so I won't ever have another. And I remember:
The joy I felt each and every day when I came home and a furkid greeted me as if I had been gone a lifetime.
The ability to make each furkid dance with joy by offering their favorite activity.
The softness of the chow fur as I hugged them close.
The attentiveness they displayed whenever I wasn't feeling well.
Brushing for what seemed like hours until there is a pile of fur larger than the chow that remains, when the undercoat sheds.
The preciousness of a rare purple kiss.
The joy of watching zoomies, especially puppy zoomies.
And Cinder, the proudest of all, who so enjoyed obedience school even though those humans insisted on petting her on top of the head, when she wanted them to scratch under the chin instead.
And I know I can't live without it. So there will always be a chow or two in my home. And many in my heart.
Cinder, you were very much loved and will be well missed. Know that because of you and the bond we shared other chows will know love too. Thank you for all you brought to my life and I will see you when it is my time. Hugs to you, little girl.
And I hug Teddy so tight it confuses him today. But he stays by my side and comforts me. PTL
Cinder was diagnosed with an inoperable stomach tumor 7 weeks ago. I had been making and pureeing nutrient dense food, and feeding her small frequent meals as the size of her stomach was much reduced and it was difficult for her to eat and keep down enough food to maintain her life. A week ago we saw her vet who was surprised at how well she had done on my regimen. But in the last week she was able to keep down less and less, was less interested in walks and rides(her two favorite things other than food), and spent more and more time pacing restlessly. Yesterday, I finally had to admit to myself that her quality of life was so diminished that I was keeping her around for my comfort, not hers.
So we went on one last walk, and one last car ride, and I held her in my arms and said goodbye as the vet administered an injection and she peacefully left this world. And I thanked the Lord for the ability to end her suffering and cursed him for the responsibility to do the same.
And so in my belief system, she is in heaven, no more pain, no more stress, can hear again and is doing zoomies in a beautiful place. (Not a big fan of the bridge as I don't think my kids should have to wait for me to enter heaven). So, I should be happy and relieved for her, shouldn't I? Instead, I sit here with tears running down my face and miss my little girl and wish she had been with me longer. It was between 5 and 6 years ago that she came home with me from the shelter and ran up the stairs and jumped on the bed in the master bedroom, curling up at the middle of the foot. And found her way into my heart, as they all have. She was not my first dog or even my first chow, but it doesn't get any easier just because I've been through it before.
I hear some say, I just couldn't go through the pain again so I won't ever have another. And I remember:
The joy I felt each and every day when I came home and a furkid greeted me as if I had been gone a lifetime.
The ability to make each furkid dance with joy by offering their favorite activity.
The softness of the chow fur as I hugged them close.
The attentiveness they displayed whenever I wasn't feeling well.
Brushing for what seemed like hours until there is a pile of fur larger than the chow that remains, when the undercoat sheds.
The preciousness of a rare purple kiss.
The joy of watching zoomies, especially puppy zoomies.
And Cinder, the proudest of all, who so enjoyed obedience school even though those humans insisted on petting her on top of the head, when she wanted them to scratch under the chin instead.
And I know I can't live without it. So there will always be a chow or two in my home. And many in my heart.
Cinder, you were very much loved and will be well missed. Know that because of you and the bond we shared other chows will know love too. Thank you for all you brought to my life and I will see you when it is my time. Hugs to you, little girl.
And I hug Teddy so tight it confuses him today. But he stays by my side and comforts me. PTL