Daisy’s Ordeal
by Amy
Page 3 of 3
At this point I lost my awareness of the rest of my family. I started kissing Daisy on her sweet little head and stroking her neck as we exchanged what Annette and I call “cuddly” noises. Since she was a puppy, Daisy and I would basically put our foreheads together and start making low rumbling noises back and forth. It is a sound that mother dogs and puppies exchange to say, ”You’re safe, I’ve got you.” So there, in her last moments of life she was still with me. I started crying inconsolably. I stepped back so Annette, Daniel, and Jon could say their goodbyes. Daniel and Daisy had a very special, caring bond. He did not want to be in the room for the procedure, so he gave Daisy one last pet then stepped out and Jon accompanied him to provide support. I could not pull my face away from Daisy’s. Annette asked if I was ready. I don’t remember my response, but it was then that she pushed the doorbell to let the staff know we were ready.
The Vet stepped in and again explained that the first injection would relax her and the second injection would be the euthanasia medicine. I nodded acknowledgement then put my right hand on her chest and again buried my face in hers. I peeked out to see the first medicine go in. She uttered one last cuddle noise. Then I saw the pink euthanasia liquid go in. I felt her breathing slow to stop and the sudden absence of her heartbeat. The Vet then listened to her chest with his stethoscope to confirm that she had passed. It was about 2:00 am. The Vet then left the room, again saying we could stay with her as long as we needed and to push the doorbell when we were ready for them to take her to “aftercare.” She’d be prepared for cremation.
Now I was draped over Daisy like her blanket and wailing. It all happened so quickly, I couldn’t comprehend the situation. Annette, also crying, but more in shock, tried to nudge me to let go so they
could take her. I said they would have to get Jon to pull me out of there. And he did really have to pull me away. The Vet Assistant came to take Daisy out of the room. Even though she was gone, her eyes still looked at me so sweetly. I held a gaze with her as she was slowly rolled away.
We got home about 3:00 am. In less than 4 hours my seemingly healthy 17-year-old pup was gone. This was a horrific event but I can see that it was actually a blessing in disguise that all this happened so quickly. She would not have to linger and suffer.
This loss has me feeling the deepest grief I have ever experienced. I am crying out sporadically and am not able to control this grief. However, 16 weeks of writing about my feelings has given me the strength and knowhow to handle feelings out of control. The grief is okay. I mean, it’s awful to feel, but it’s healthy. All the feelings I experienced in my hero’s journey are amazingly still in check. Yesterday and today, as I grieved, I also tried to keep busy, distracted. I was afraid of getting depressed or that apathy would creep back in. But you know what? “Apathetic Annie” did come around. She made a sympathy call this morning. I acknowledged her but didn’t let her through the door. I sent her away.
So, the most valuable reflection I can share about the Day One program for me is that what I learned on my hero’s journey stuck! The timing of this journey’s end is so serendipitous and I’m grateful to have these lessons. They will accompany me on the new journey I now must take. I have to work through the grief I am bearing.
Someone asked me why I was writing and what I got from it. Of course, I answered it was for my mental health. But it’s also for my family and our relationships with each other. Now, it is going to help me reflect on Daisy’s life. I’m going to dedicate my future writing to her. I don’t think I talked about her in any of my hero’s journey writing. I should have. She was always with me.