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No one who has ever shared time with a dog ever wants to think about it.
They choose us and become part of our lives. They offer us unconditional love, sloppy kisses and a wagging tail and then, seemingly in a flash of just mere moments, they must leave us.
We will all eventually experience the always profound and life-changing experience of the passing of our best friend. The loss of our dogs, whether to illness, accident or age, causes a void in our lives which never really closes completely.
Allow yourself to grieve in your own way, whatever that may be. Allow yourself the time to come to terms the loss you have endured.
Then, once the pain of that terrible moment recedes... Remember.
Remember the chewed up high heels, the games of frisbee at the park, that steak that mysteriously disappeared from the kitchen counter, the hours of obedience training that only ever seemed to work in the classroom, the clean laundery that was always the best place to hide a gooey bone.... the hours spent in front of the tv, roller-blading, driving with the windows down (even when it was below freezing), that happy, panting face and windmill tail that always greeted you at the door, the interesting smell that would waft through the room - just as the in-laws arrived, the soft head on your knee when you were sad, the muddy paw prints on the new carpet, the nose prints on the windows and the torn screen door... but always, Remember.
They never leave us. They have just passed to the next level. They are there with us always... as long as we Remember....
DAKOTAH - April 14, 1995 - February 06, 2003
(Haemangeosarcoma)
Dakotah was my first dog since childhood. My first German Dakotah was my first dog since childhood. My first German Shepherd and my first loss.
She was a "soft" dog with a big attitude, but if she so much as chipped a nail, she would coming sucking to mom - ears down, paw in the air and stuck to my side.
When I developed a rare form of leukemia in 1996, she was all I thought about - was she fed, was she walked, did she "miss me"? I was determined to get out of that hospital and back to Dakotah - which I did, but not until almost four months had passed.
It took her about 24 hours to realize that the pale, skinny, bald headed c
 hick in her house was really mom. After that, she was stuck like glue. She slept with me, or should I say on me, no matter how long I was on that couch. She drove my recovery. I couldn't lie around and feel sorry myself since Dakotah had to to be fed and she had to go for a walk, no matter what the weather, no matter how bad I felt. She was there pushing me when no one else was.
I wasn't sure she would accept the boys, but in August 1997 when I brought home Apache and Boss (her half brothers), Dakotah found her maternal side. She kept them in line and taught them the rules - which included howling at train whistles or sirens as well as passing along her insatiable love of playing in water (shower, hose, pool or pond, it didn't matter).
On February 06, 2003, I was out in a field, thigh deep in snow with Dakotah and Apache. Dakotah just stopped running around, lay down and refused to get up. Having no idea what was wrong, and not being able to lift and carry her myself, I called a friend and we carried her out of the bush to the truck. After two hours at the vet, I was told she looked pale, but that her heavy panting and obvious stress was making it difficult to determine exactly what was wrong. It was not even suggested that she may have been experiencing a haemangeosarcoma (which might have been treated with emergency surgical intervention). I was told to take her home, give her some valium, and monitor her condition.
I was able to get her home, and she promptly lay down on the kitchen floor and had a big drink of water, but Apache would not leave her alone (he knew there was something wrong). He kept nosing and pawing her, whining and barking to engage her in play. I had to crate him to allow her some peace but about five minutes later she took one big breathe, and then she was gone in my arms. Apache suddenly went silent, knowing that she had passed.
I have never been so alone as I was at that moment. Dakotah had been with me through some very tough times and had taught me life lessons that no person ever could, and now she was gone. I know she stayed with me for many month afterwards - I would feel her jump on on the bed at night or nudge my hand with her nose.
Dakotah was my first and she will always have that special place in my heart... she is not gone as she will always be remembered.
BOSS, June 14, 1997 - June 22, 2007
(Haemangeosarcoma)
Boss was always one of my boys, even after Doug and I parted ways, being Apache's brother (love/hate as it was) and half brother of Dakotah. He was a large black and tan, with a big head and a big heart - but what a couch-potatoe! He hated to train and I don't think running was ever incorporated into his known vocabulary.
He did, however, have a great life. First with the others at my house, then looking after Doug's shop and riding around in the tow truck. Eventually he had to share his new home with Maggie, but apparently that wasn't much of a chore, as she mothered him to the extreme and spent hours obsessively cleaning his ears and teeth. He just lay back enjoyed. Boss was a loveable lug of a dog and absolutely devoted to Doug above all else.
Unfortunatly, on June 22, 2007, he just lay down and wouldn't get up. Doug got him to the vet but he passed shortly after.
His loss has been devasting for all of us who shared even a part of their lives with him, and all of us at Red Dog Food wish to express our sincerest and heart-felt condolences to Doug, Julia and Maggie.
Boss was one of a kind. He is not gone, as he will always been remembered.
APACHE - June 21, 1997 - November 03, 2007
(Haemangeosarcoma)
It has now been more than a year since Apache left me, and I still tear up when I try to talk about him.
Apache was my first boy. He was so easy going... easy to train, easy to live with. As pups, Apache and his brother, Boss, would lie for hours on their blanket, head to head, talking to eachother in their own language, pulling toys back and forth - you would have thought they were twins. Later on, despite Dakotah's attempts at mediation, they had their disagreements (one of which sent Apache to the vet for numerous stiches to his face), but ultimately they were brothers - one always trying to be better than the other.
I now know that Apache and Boss both showed signs of vaccinois from very early on. Within hours of his second series of vaccines, Apache was passing mucousy diarrhea, was lethargic and dehydrated. I rushed him back to the vet at 7am the next morning, in a panic. The vet of course did not attribute the symptoms to the vaccination, but he was sick enough to be on IV fluids for 24 hours. Boss then exhibited the same symptoms but not as severely. That was the beginning of the many trips to the vet - and everything that Apache exihibited, Boss got too.
Where Dakotah had some difficulties with other dogs, Apache was never confrontational. He got along with everyone, but ultimately he only listened to me. I started volunteering with local trainer in 1998, and Apache was the demo dog. We went to dog camp and ran agility and tried herding ... ducks were not to be hearded however, it was more fun to jump on them. We tried tracking and even fly-ball.
I was considering breeding Apache, since he had such a calm disposition but the day I got his hip clearance from Guelph, I also noticed what appeared to be a "divet" or indentation in the clear part of his eyeball. Back to the vet, and then immediately off to the opthamologist. I was told he had a lack of blood flow to that particular part of the cornea and that it was dying and not regenerating as quickly as the rest of the eye. He has only a 10% thickness left and any pressure could rupture the eyeball and blind him.
The options were a strict regime of three medications 10 minutes apart every 4 hours, a victorian collar and leash exercise only for months, or a $2,500.00 surgical procedure to "patch" the cornea which would have left him with small blind spot and no guarantee of success. As the "drop-out" was starting in the other eye also, I opted for the medical regime. I was vigilant. He was my sucky boy! Two weeks later, the opthamologist was amazed at the regrowth, but said he would be on cyclosporin drops for the rest of his life as maintainence - she was ultimately proven wrong.
After Dakotah passed in 2003, Apache developed a very severe case of diarrhea. He was having accidents everyday in the house, and was losing weight at an alarming rate. The vet said it was just colitis - since he had "had it before", and he again put him on one of those canned "medical diets".
Apache had never been a big food hog, unless it was training treats, but he was constantsly ravenous and still losing weight. I got on the internet and started searching. The symptoms were pointing at something called EPI - Exocrine Pancreatic Insuficiency. Back to the vet with the article and a demand for the appropriate blood work. I was told that it was not EPI and it was colitis and that the blood work was very expensive. I didn't care, my dog was wasting away in front of me!
Well 24 hours later, I was proven right and it was a very severe case, requiring massive supplimentation with pancreatic enzymes which would allow the food to be broken down and absorbed. The vet sold the enzymes for almost $100 per bottle, and I was going through one bottle a week! Luckily I was a regular at the local health food store and was able to find a comprable item there for $10 per bottle - I bought them by the case. Then, as always, Boss also started exhibiting the symptoms of EPI and I had him put on the enzymes also.
The next couple of years was a juggling game of enzymes, different foods and constant monitoring Apache's weight. He was "ok" but never really regained his full body weight back. He always had energy, but every once in a while, he would have another accident. Feeding was a constant stress, since he hated kibble and had to be hand fed with canned food mixed in, just to get him to take any interest. His teeth were yellow and his breathe was bad. He had dandruff, his coat was dry and dull and he always seemed to be in need of a bath.
Then we moved to the country and his problems became the driving inspiration to switch to a raw diet. Amazing! He suddently loved to eat, put on weight and muscle again, his teeth became white, his dandruff disappeared and his coat was soft and shiny - and his eye drop out went away. He was off the cyclosporin drops. I got Boss on raw and his issues also became much less severe.
I believe now, that switching Apache to raw food and then getting him homeopathic supportive remedies provided him three enjoyable years in the country that he wouldn't have had otherwise. He got to chase the geese, lose his toys in the pond, try to eat a porcupine (don't ask how that went...) chew on big bones and play frisbee.
Then his brother Boss passed in June 2007. My stomach sank. They had always had the same problems at the same time, one would get sick, then the other. I had seen Dakotah's symptoms and didnt recognize them for what they were. I dreaded the day that they may reoccur with Apache, and then they did.
It was a warm Saturday at the beginning of November. I came home in the middle of the afternoon from shopping, put everything away and let Apache out to play some frisbee while I started the Fall cleanup. He was fine, jumping and catching the frisbee just like always, and then he wasnt. It was around 5pm. He plodded along and seemed dazed. Then he waded into the pond and stood there up to his chest and just looked at me. I knew.
I tried to hope for the best when I took him to the holistic vet up the street, but I knew. We gave him some calming remedies and discussed the potential option of taking him to emerg for a surgical intervention, but I decided that the stress of the vet's office and the extensive recovery from such a massive surgical procedure was, in the long run, not how I wanted to have my "sucky boy" pass. So we went home.
He fought the process as long as he could, but eventually he came over and lay beside me. I stroked him and talked to him as he took his last few breathes and then he was gone. I lay with him for a couple of hours and then I couldn't any more. He had only just turned 10 in June.
The next morning, I sat where he had passed thinking about how unfair it was. It was so quiet now, Apache wasn't out chasing the squirrels. Suddenly a chickadee crashed into the window. I thought, oh no, I cant take this right now. I went out and picked it up. This little bird was dazed but apparently not hurt, but he wouldnt leave me. I held him and stroked him for about an hour, but he refused to fly away. Eventually I placed him on a tree branch and he finally hopped away.
I believe this was Apache saying a final goodbye. I have never felt him near me since, although he is still in my dreams. Apache is not gone, as he will always been remembered.. my sucky boy.
I want to thank Dr. Cynthia Harcourt for her time, empathy and compassionate care of both Apache and me throughout his passing. She provided supportive remedies which allowed him to pass in his own time, without any stress or confusion.
Hudson - 2007 -11 years old
(Haemangeosarcoma)
 I was first introduced to RED Dog Food in February 2007 by Dr. Cynthia Harcourt DVM.
My 10 year old German Shepherd, Hudson, had just undergone emergency surgery and a splenectomy after a large haemangeosarcoma ruptured. My regular veterinarian supported the idea of going to a holistic veterinarian to look at alternative treatments, but Dr. Harcourt’s only recommendation was to change Hudson’s diet to raw food.
I was instantly sceptical – Hudson was very picky, didn’t have much use for food or treats, but I was willing to give it a try. Well, my picky dog was suddenly eagerly standing at the counter while I prepared his meals, and quick to clean his bowl. Not only that but his coat was soft and shiny, and his energy level increased dramatically – I suddenly had a pup running through the forest again. His regular vet was so impressed with the quick change that he started to investigate switching his own dog to raw.
Unfortunately, this story does not have a happy ending. The ruptured haemangeosarcoma had already spread to his spine, and I lost Hudson just past his eleventh birthday.
It took me a long time to get over the loss (do we ever actually get over it?) But the time comes when the loss of no dog in your life is greater than the loss of the one that you miss.
And so, Duncan came home in December 2008.
Hudson is not gone, as he will always be remembered.
KILCUN - December 2007
(Congestive Heart Failure)
Although a heart beat irregularity had been suddently "discovered" by the vet in the fall of 2007, much to their surprise, Steve and Petra were told that the "problem" had always been there - although Kilcun had never apparently experienced any symptoms whatsoever.
Steve and Kilcun were out for a walk when Kilcun began to experience breathing difficulties. Steve brought him home to Petra and he passed quickly, with them by his side.
We wish to express our heart-felt condolences to Steve and Petra.
Kilcun was a huge part of their lives and his passing was a terrible shock. Kilcun is not gone, as he will always be remembered.
(Ruptured Nasal Polyp)
We wish to express our heartlfelt condolences to Ron and Julie, who recently had to make the hardest decision of their lives.
Kody developed a polyp in his nose, the blood vessels burst and the bleeding could not be stopped. Not wanting to watch Kody bleed to death, they eased his passing.
Julie has said that she and Ron are like two lost souls now missing their baby, every minute of every day.
They don't believe that they
will
ever get another dog because they couldn't bear this kind of loss again.
Kody is not gone, as he will always be remembered.
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