Moving On

It has been two days since Susie left us, and I am still struggling with our loss. I didn't realize how much she was a part of my every move. Since she was a puppy, she has always followed me around the house from room to room. I would mess with her and walk in a complete circle, and she would follow.

I have caught myself looking for her nearly every 5 minutes to make sure that she wasn't chewing on herself (fleas) or to make sure that she was just there. Every time I get up from the couch, I look down to make sure that I'm not gonna step on her. I don't do too well when I'm at home. I am still extremely emotional about Susie's death. It's so much easier to "type" about this than it will ever be for me to talk about it.

Losing Susie has been a very emotional event for the Corley Clan. Rusty has been amazing in helping me cope with this.

One Day at a Time, right?

My little companion.

You all know what happened to Susie (anemia), but she had a pretty rough afternoon on her last day.

I cannot say any of this yet without crying, but I really feel that if I can share this with you all, it will help me with my grieving. So, here goes.

I got home from work right around 11:30am, and I took Susie out to use the bathroom because she couldn't do it herself. Her urine wasn't completely bloody this time, and I was still waiting on a "prognosis" call from the Doctor, so when I saw that her urine looked better, I was a little relieved. Maybe I was imagining all of this. I went ahead to my Weight Watchers meeting and tried to keep it out of my mind.

I got home from my meeting and running errands at around 2:00pm. As soon as I walked into the house, I could tell that Susie wasn't going to be able to fight her disease. She was lying on the floor in the living room where she waited for me every day, but this time, she didn't get up to greet me. It was all that she could do to wag her tail.

Emmy was asleep, and Riley (Joey's new puppy) was screaming in the bathroom, so I went into the bedroom and started to cry. I knew it. I knew that if Susie didn't die on her own before the night was over that she would have to be put down. She was pathetic.

My faithful friend got up enough energy to follow me into the bedroom where I stood crying.

That was the last time that she would walk.

She plopped down into the middle of the floor and sighed. I went to the bathroom, cleaned up my face a little bit, and then prepared to say good-bye.

My camera hadn't been working for several weeks, but I saw it lying on the nightstand. I grabbed it and started praying. "Please work! Please work!" I had to get one last picture of my best friend. I lay down on the floor and started taking pictures. I kept thinking to myself that when I stopped taking pictures, it would be the last time I took her picture. I couldn't stop. I ended up taking nearly 75 pictures before I gave in to reality. I cried. I cried a lot.

I picked Susie up from the floor and put her in the bed with me. Before Rusty, before Rachel, before anyone but my Mom, there was Susie. Susie used to sleep with me every night. She snored really bad, but her snoring comforted me. It made me fall asleep. When I put her in the bed with me, I knew that it was over. My little girl was going. I felt her breathing. I felt her ribs. I listened to her and waited for her to stop breathing. It was just like when Dad died. I remember listening to him breathe, and then not breathe. At that moment, I prayed that she just go. I fell asleep listening to her snoring, just the way I loved it! I couldn't have asked for a better nap.

When Rusty and the kids got home, I got out of bed, but Susie stayed. She couldn't go anywhere. She was done. She started whining, so I picked her up to take her to use the bathroom again. I made it to the kitchen, and that was as far as we got. Susie threw up. She hadn't digested or eaten in two days. I was holding her in my arms, crying like I have never cried before, and the kids just watched on. I know that they were worried, but I think that they were more worried for me than for Susie. I hate it that they had to see this.

I lay Susie down on the floor as I started an emotional meltdown. I was crying uncontrollably. If you can remember when you were a kid, and you cried so hard that you couldn't get a word out without inhaling really deep for a breath, that is where I started, and it only got worse. Rusty came into the kitchen after sending the kids to Sam's room. He put a white towel with burgundy stripes on the floor beside Susie. I was a mess. Susie was dying right in front of me, and I wanted nothing more than to take it from her as a Mother would want to take an illness from her child. Susie's internal system stopped working at that moment. Anything that was in her, came out, and I knew at that moment, that she had to go. She whined and cried as I stood there grieving my best friend.

Rusty sent me away, gently slid Susie onto the white towel with burgundy stripes, and started to clean up the mess that had spread itself onto our kitchen floor. I went to the bathroom to blow my nose, rinse off, and gain my composure.

I came back into the kitchen, and saw my baby lying on the floor. It was time to say good-bye for good. We had our time earlier to prepare, but as I lie on the floor looking into Susie's deep black eyes, we both knew that it was over.

I don't know how long I was on the floor with her, nor do I care, but in those minutes, it was just me and her, like it had been 10 years ago.

Beth came over as any usual Tuesday night in time to catch me saying good-bye. I remember rubbing Susie's ear ever so gently, crying inconsolably, only to have Beth come in to console me. She has pretty good timing. I cried more, but I had let go, and Beth was there to help me.

I was done. I got up off of the floor. I stood in the kitchen looking down on my dog. My heart hurting in a way that it had never hurt before. The intensity is amazing. Losing Susie has always been something that I have dreaded, but I never in my life expected it to be this hard. Rusty picked her up in the towel, and took her to the vet. I looked at her one last time as he carried her away. I will never get that image out of my head. Rusty said that she went peacefully as he too teared up.

I am not yet to the point that I realize that Susie is completely gone. I think that I am in a fog that has been rolling over me for the last two days, and it has not yet lifted. I know that Susie is gone, but my heart tells me otherwise.

Susie was loved by more than just me and the Corley Clan. Everyone that met Susie loved her. She was such a happy and sweet dog. She chased the laser light (the mouse), she played hide and seek, and she loved it when you came in the front door, no matter who you were.

I Miss My Dog!

I know that no matter what I do, I will never have her back. It kills me. It breaks my heart, and I can barely stand it.

I have been told that I need to get another dog pretty soon. I agree with most that a new dog will help me through the grief, but I will never forget you, Susie. You are a part of my heart that will never be forgotten.

I was able to take a video of her last "pleasant" moments. I didn't realize it then, but toward the end of the video, appropriately, it goes dark. I think the sun went behind some clouds. I tried to get her to respond, but it was too late, she didn't have very much if anything left.

I am glad that I can have an outlet like this to express my sorrow. I know that I am not the only person to have ever lost a beloved pet, but in the long run, the time that I had with Susie is well worth the sorrow that I have experienced in her death.