It's been a little over a month, and we are adjusting. The "kids", as I call my now four remaining Boston Terriers, have begun to spend more time on my lap when I'm reading or watching TV - or even when I'm at the computer. They have stopped looking for Bertie and the Princess both in Minneapolis and here in Phoenix. My older dogs were from the first litter of puppies I bred. Their mother was my dear "Bonnie", and as with all puppies born then and thereafter, I was there to hold them from the moment they were born (by C Section). I intended to be there at the end as well, and I was.
To review for those who haven't heard the full story, my oldest dogs died within 48 hours of each other on the 21st and 23rd of November. Bertie had been in failing health for months. I had always said that the first time Bertie refuses to eat his meal it will mean that he is ready to go. Sure enough, the first meal he would not eat was on the 20th, the night before he died. In the night he began to have seizures, and I knew I'd have to take him in to be euthanized the next day. Problem was that the sidewalks and streets that morning were sheet ice. I couldn't even get to my car, let alone carry Bertie out and take him anywhere at all. From the moment we arose, I was close and watching him so that every time he had a seizure, I would pet him and say soothing things. At about 9:30 a.m., in the middle of one of these, his heart stopped and he was at peace. All the other dogs, including Princess of course, saw him and knew he was gone.
That's when the grieving began. The first to lose her breakfast was my young Lily - the dog I swear was born with an old soul. She is so empathetic and loving, I can't help but think her great grandmother, Bonnie, has returned in Lily's body. All day she stood around or sat quietly in a state of blank melancholy. By the 22nd, Lily was no longer losing her food, but Princess and Vickie did. They had the same symptoms as Lily had had the day before, except Princess did not improve. She continued throughout the day to heave and by late afternoon she was stumbling and getting too weak to stand. By bed time it was obvious I would need to take her into the vet the next day.
Princess, though not suffering any known life threatening condition, had only one eye, which was blind with a combination of edema and cataract, and she could no longer hear. In addition she had developed vestibular syndrome two months before and was prone to walk in circles and bump things, although she had learned how to find her way in from outdoors and to find the water dish and her home crate. I so admired her spunk. But the loss of her litter mate and brother, Bert, was too much for her. The night of the 22nd (my 72nd birthday, by the way) I put her into bed beside me and awoke each time she heaved. Then, suddenly at 2:15 a.m. she had a seizure. I immediately got up and dressed, warmed up the car and took her into the Emergency Vet to be euthanized. She was ready to go, and there was no need for her to go through a night of seizures. She died in my arms with her head on my chest.
Both Princess and Bertie were 14 years old. They had been together since their conception. In the months before they died Lily the "old soul" had insisted on being with Princess when she was kenneled. But even more significantly, in his final weeks, Bertie had come to demand to be in the kennel with Princess. It seems to me that these three dogs all knew this was coming.
Vickie, the third dog to grieve hard, is the oldest in the family now. She has taken awhile to get over her melancholy and begin to take an interest in life around her. Gracie and YoYo took it more in stride, but were a little lost and confused for a time, as the household routine changed, and the old ones disappeared.
