So sorry, Greathouse.
Crying is ok.
I agree with this. I’ve lost dogs several times and their deaths have left me sad and empty. But as much as I’ve loved them, they loved me back 100 times as much. Remember that Tank returned your love many, many times over and your time together was special to you both. It’s natural and even OK to grieve. There’s room in your heart for more than one dog, and I hope you find a new companion when the time is right for you.
I’m so very sorry for your loss. May you find peace.
Awww. I’m sorry.
I’m so sorry for your loss. Put in a good word for us, Tank. (Super name, BTW.)
I’m so sorry for your loss–I lost my heart dog this summer and I still get sniffly and choke up if I run across a picture of him I wasn’t expecting or when I talk about him. A good dog leaves a big space in our heart that only really heals up when the next good dog comes along. Even so, I know I have my list of good dogs and cats who’ve gone before and I think of them often. Blessed be, Tank, and may the Goddess hold you close.
I’m so sorry for your loss, Greathouse. There’s nothing to be ashamed of for crying - I have no idea how I’m going to deal with the loss of any of the three mutts whose house I live in, but when I do, there will certainly be crying.
Pets are dearer to me than most people.
RIP Tank. Wait for your friend…he’ll be along in awhile. Well, 7 x awhile in dog years.
Several years ago, when I lost one of my dogs, I received a card from her vet with this poem on it.
*Grieve not,
nor speak of me with tears,
but laugh and talk of me
as if I were beside you -
I loved you so -
'twas Heaven here with you
~Isla Paschal Richardson
*
S’cuse me, I have something in my eye.
I am sorry for your loss, and feel your pain. Take care of yourself. Good night, Tank.
It’s better to grieve, having given and received love, then to fell nothing, having not given your heart to your dog. Grief is the price we pay for unconditional love.
StG
Thank you all for your kind words. I really appreciate it.
Tank was a rescue that we got back in January of 2011. When we got him they told us that he had been adopted and returned 3 times already and this was his last chance. We knew from the moment we decided to bring him home and that we were his new family that he was never going back to the shelter.
The paperwork said that he was a boxer mix, but I guarantee you that there was zero boxer in that dog. I have 2 full blood boxers and Tank looked nothing like them. I think they said that to try and not scare people since it was obvious to me he was mostly red nose pit. He was yellow and had yellow eyes and the biggest underbite you’d ever seen. His bottom teeth were always showing and it looked like he had a forever smile. Honestly, he was so ugly he was beautiful.
When we first brought him home and gave him his first bowl of food my wife and I both remarked that he had a look on his face like “Really? This is for me?!?”. He had a huge heart and was very full of love. He never seemed to have a lot of self confidence and was always unsure if he was in trouble or not. He loved his belly rubs and if he was sitting next you and didn’t think you were paying attention to him, he’d just kind of flop over on top of you with his full 110 lbs. He was always more of a lap dog wanting love and never really wanted to play. My wife figured he didn’t know how to play. We’d get a toy and try to play with him and he’d chase the toy we threw or grab the tug-of-war rope for maybe 2 seconds and then let it go.
My daughter pretty much laid claim to him as soon as we got him, and he loved her dearly. A few years ago for Christmas we had a shirt made for her that had Tank’s face on it and sad “Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful”. That is still her favorite shirt.
Last Thursday my wife was at home on her day off from work and called me because Tank was having a hard time breathing and couldn’t walk. He’d take a few steps and then just collapse. I rushed home from work and picked my daughter up from school. We all took him to the vet together. The Dr. said he had a mass on his spleen that had ruptured and was bleeding internally. She said the prognosis wasn’t good and referred us to the Vet E/R. We got there and they began their tests and trying to stabilize him. He had a lot of blood loss and his plate count was very very low. He wasn’t clotting which made his chances for surgery very slim. After talking with the Dr. I had to make the decision to euthanize him. They brought him in to the room with my family and we spent about 30 minutes with him saying our goodbyes. Everyone was a wreck and everyone was balling their eyes out. I then notified the staff that we were ready and I went into another room with Tank. When the Dr. came in he explained the process and let me know what to expect. As he gave the first solution to put him to sleep, Tank just collapsed in my arms and I held him as the Dr. gave the second solution to stop his heart. Once the Dr. confirmed Tank had passed I sat with him for another 30 minutes. I then went back to my family and we tearfully left the E/R.
He was amazing and we all loved him. We still do. We’re working through the grief and are trying to come to terms with it. I’m most worried about my wife. She is taking it the hardest and I have no idea how to snap her out of it, or if I should even be trying. She hasn’t eaten in 3 days and just watches videos of him and cries.
Thanks again for all of the kind words and letting me talk about him like this. It has helped a lot.
I’m so sorry for your loss, Tank sounds like a great friend and I’m sure he will be sorely missed. Thank you for telling us Tank’s story, it’s easy to see why he made such an impression on you - it’s ok to grieve for him, but at the same time you should remember in the back of your mind that being able to make that awful decision to let him go is sometimes the best gift we have to give our pets, aside from a loving home.
My brother’s S-I-L takes rescue dogs from the pound and has been through quite a few, since she takes the older ones with a smaller chance of being saved. It has been amusing sometimes at the guesses the shelter had of the dog’s bloodlines. The one I remember was a “Newfoundland Retriever/Labrador Retriever cross.” One glance and DesertRoomie and I said, no. Newfie, okay (lookit the size of him!) but there’s no Lab there. It took us about five minutes of studying him – longer than the shelter could spare, I’m sure – before it clicked: Flat Coat Retriever. DR went by his coat and I went by the shape of his skull.
I have loved quite a few dogs, but the bully breeds have laid the strongest claim to my heart. As I was reading, I thought “Tank” sounded like a bully name.
Tank sounds like a great family member. I wish dogs could be part of our lives longer, but I’d hate to pass first and leave them feeling like this, so maybe it’s kinder this way.
I do feel like all the dogs (and other non-human souls) whom I have gotten to know have changed me in their own ways, so in that sense, a part of them lives on. Your daughter will always remember Tank, and be the better for having known his love.