Sasha's Gone

[Outdoor Writer]

I thought I was pretty tough in situations like this, but Weds. was a really rough day for me. That's why my initial message was short and to the point.

 

When I sat on the couch to watch TV Tues. night, Sasha came running with her Kong toy, as she often did. She'd bring it to me and then back off about 6-8 ft. so I could throw it for her to catch in mid-air. She kept at it until I told her "no more." When I did that, she laid down on the floor next to me, between the couch and the coffee table. Her Kong was nestled between her front paws next to her nose.

 

That was the last time I saw her alive. I eventually fell asleep on the couch where I spent the night.

 

Weds. morning, I woke up about 4:15, turned on the kitchen light and made coffee, etc., etc. Usually as soon as I get up, Sasha would be at my heels. I was awake for about two hours when I finally realized I hadn't seen her. I began looking. She wasn't in any of her usual haunts. First place I checked was the couch in the front living room where she often sleeps; it's the only piece of furniture in the entire house she was allowed access to. The couch was empty. I then started checking all the other empty, dark rooms by calling her name from the doorways. When she didn't come to my calls, I went out back and called for her from the patio. Nothing.

 

By now, it was about time for my wife to get up, so I opened the bedroom door and turned on the light to see if Sasha might have been closed in there when Ellen had gone to bed. Sasha wasn't there either. So I asked my wife if she had maybe opened the front door after I fell asleep. Although I knew Sasha wouldn't go anywhere, I thought perhaps she had been isolated to the front patio. But the few times that has happened, she barked continuously until one of us let her into the house again. But Ellen hadn't been out front at all since she got home from work at 5:30.

 

I decided to check each room again. I turned on the light in the spare front bedroom -- one Sasha rarely went into unless Ellen or I were in there for something. I could see her nose sticking out on the far side of one of the beds in there. I walked over, sat on the other bed and could tell she wasn't breathing even before I reached down to touch her.

 

My wife walked in right behind me, and all I could say was "She's dead."

 

Ellen said, "Oh no."

 

By then, I was already in tears. Ellen joined me.

 

It was really quiet and sad here yesterday as I went about the business of doing what I had to do with Sasha's lifeless body. Few words were exchanged at the dinner table last night. This morning isn't much better as I move about the house and see Sasha's crate, toys, bowls and beds still where they were when she died. The Kong is still laying between the couch and table, where she had left it. Her collar now hangs alongside the one that belonged to my German shorthair, Ginger.

 

At least with Ginger, knowing she was old and had cancer gave me time to realize she would soon be gone. Sure it was hard to take her to the vet and have her in my hands as the injection caused her life to leave her. I still shed some tears, but by then I was ready to handle them. That's been the case with almost all of the pups I've owned over many years. Most have lived to old age.

 

That's not the case with Sasha's sudden and unexplained death at less than five years old. While I certainly wouldn't want her to have suffered, I would have been happier if we both had several more years to enjoy each other's company. And if dogs could talk, I bet she would have said the same thing.

 

As I said after Ginger died, I'll likely never get another pup. If I ever decide to make such a mistake, though, it would be quite difficult to find another with Sasha's temperament and personality.

 

The sadness will last a long time, but after a few days, we'll get over the loss somewhat and move on as we have in past situations such as this.

 

Anyway...I really appreciate the sentiments from everyone. Thank you all.

[Outdoor Writer]

Since the time I found Sasha early Weds., I’ve had a real difficult time coping with it. Every time I see something that reminds of her or if I think about her, I become a blubbering sissy.

 

I spoke to her vet yesterday and she guessed it was either a heart attack or some sort of stroke. Sasha had her full annual check-up about a month ago, and nothing was amiss. She’s been on thyroid medication for about a year. Even had her weight down to 80 lbs.

 

What really bothers me most is not knowing if she could have been saved. I’ll never know if quick medical attention might have prevented her death if it had happened while I was awake. It’s especially bothersome considering she was fine not hours before.

 

The fact she went into that front bedroom to die makes me think she knew it was happening and seemingly didn’t want us to know it or find her. Otherwise I can’t explain why she would be where I found her since she never ventured into that room without El or I being there.

 

Worst of all, though, I never had a chance to say goodbye.

[muskrat]

Tony - I'm very sorry for your loss.

[billrquimby]

Tony:

 

I know exactly how awful you feel about your loss. Jean and I have had many dogs over the 55 years of our marriage, and their deaths affected us deeply.

 

Our last dog, Merlin, died of old age in Jean's arms while I was alone in Greer three years ago. I immediately returned to Tucson to bury him. We still get tears in our eyes whenever something reminds us of him, such as your tragic story. Merlin was our friend and family member for 18 years, and even his end of life maladies -- incontinence, blindness, deafness, and the dog equivalent of Alzheimer's disease -- did not lessen our love for him.

 

We vowed to never again have another dog because it hurts too much when they die. So far, we have not.

 

Bill Quimby

[massamino]

Sorry to hear about your friend. Hang in there.