On losing my lighthouse and how I survived

Before there was Clover, there was Sammy. Today is the 11th anniversary of his passing. 11 years ago I never thought I would get through losing him. Today only three weeks after losing Clover I can say although it was the hardest thing I've ever done I survived losing him and as much pain as I'm in with the loss of Clover I will survive this too. 

I got Sammy, my beautiful Yorkshire Terrier, when I was 27. He was 10 weeks old and 3 pounds and I was still a natural brunette (and lets just say many less pounds than now). I had dogs growing up, but this was MY first dog. He would be completely my responsibility. I made so many mistakes with him, but the good thing about that was that he taught me how to be with my girls Bella and Clover. I made sure they went to training. I didn't baby them, and I made sure they were socialized. That's just a few examples among many. One thing I did for sure with Sammy, which I have done no differently with the girls, was love him. Sammy came at a time in my life when my world was empty . There was nothing but darkness, loneliness, and no sense of direction. I was lost and in my own chaos, I decided I wanted a puppy. I knew I could take care of a puppy and so I read the newspaper ads every day until one day I found a woman selling Yorkshire Terriers for $350.00 (back in 1994). I was making 17,000 dollars a year, but I went to the ATM and took an advance on my credit card drove out to Lexington, and met the puppies. I had a couple of people with me and one of them picked up a puppy and said "This one, look at his face". And that night Sammy, an AKC registered Yorkshire Terrier, came home with me and stayed for the next 15 years. Especially in the dark times he was sometimes the only reason I got out of bed. He truly was my lighthouse in life. He was the beacon when I got stuck in the muck and mire and couldn't find my way. Eventually my world got much better, I found my way and my chaos was now every day life. There would be all kinds of ups and downs in my life along the way, but I always had my lighthouse if it ever got too dark for me to see. He was my constant. I enjoyed many years with Sammy. I would sit in my rocker with him, play Karen Carpenter, and often write poetry. He never asked for much, except to play ball. That boy never stopped loving a ball. I had 13 solid years with him.

When Sammy was 13 I noticed he got stuck in a wide open corner. I just thought he was being silly and helped him out of the corner, thinking nothing of it. Also coming home from walks at night, he didn't recognize our house anymore. Well, he's 13 I'm sure his eyes are beginning to fail a little bit. Maybe? Never gave it a second thought. Sometimes at night he would be restless and anxious. I couldn't calm him. He didn't seem to want to go on walks anymore and I noticed Thunder storms didn't bother him anymore. Maybe his hearing is going too. As long as he's healthy.

Then one night, I was walking him and he was running so fast to get home that even in a harness he started coughing from pulling too hard. Suddenly he fell on his side. I bent down to pick him up and he was limp. I scooped him up and started running home sobbing. He began to come to on my way back and sounded almost like a dog coming out of anesthesia. By the time I got home I was hysterical but Sammy was back to himself and it seemed like nothing happened. After this on a hunch I typed in Doggie Alzheimer's. There was a ton of information on the internet. I couldn't believe it. All the weird things he was presenting with were all symptoms of this progressive disease. I called to schedule an appointment with the vet. She recommended an ultrasound to be sure his heart wasn't bad. He did have a grade 2 murmur but no other indications that this "fainting spell" was due to complications from his heart. The ultrasound went well and the vet said that Sammy's heart looked "excellent". The vet explained that what happened to Sammy was that he had a "cough drop" episode. Sammy had gotten so afraid by being outside that he was running and pulling so hard that the anxiety made him cough to the point that he "dropped". Today I now know because of Clover that he suffered what was called a syncope episode. Scary as all hell to the pet parent but otherwise harmless. In every other way Sammy was perfectly healthy. That is the evil part of Alzheimers in dogs. Nothing else is wrong with them, but they are fading away day by day. Based on this and all the symptoms my usual vet concurred he did have Canine Cognitive Dysfunction (Doggie Alzheimers) There wasn't much I could do, but there was some hope a medication called Anipryl. My vet started him right away on it. Barring this medication, there weren't too many alternative treatments. Within days I saw an improvement in the restlessness at night and the getting stuck. Some things were clearly better, others not (He was never not afraid of leaving the house ever again so that walk where he fainted was my last walk ever with him). The good news was he didn't progress into being worse. I believe the medication gave me another two years with my boy. Sammy made it through some other hurdles and he saw his 15th birthday on June 14, 2009. His decline had begun early in the year but leveled off until the summer. By the time August came around he was getting stuck almost every time you turned around. He was housebound because it was the only place he felt safe. I kept telling him if he needed to go to sleep and not wake up I would be heartbroken but I wanted him to pass peacefully. "Please Sammy, don't make me have to make that decision." They say the dog will tell you when it's time. I never was sure of that until the day came where I walked into the room and saw him chewing wires. There was no question for me after that. I couldn't risk going to work to come home and find him electrocuted. I called the vet and scheduled that dreaded appointment. My one consolation was that she could come to my house and he could pass where he felt safest, surrounded by people who loved him. That day I will never forget. It was raining and it was raw out. The vet and the tech were wearing raincoats. We sat on the couch in the living room where I held my boy and sang him to sleep with Karen Carpenter's Silent Night. I remember hearing him snore and then it was quiet.

The pain of losing my lighthouse was beyond words. It was kind of like slamming my thumb with a hammer or breaking a bone (an unfortunate event that has happened several times to my clumsy self). When the injury or accident first hits you, you definitely feel it but then for a moment you go numb from the pain. It's like the pain has to travel from the point of injury through your nerves to your brain. When the signal reaches your brain the injured part of your body starts to throb. An ache that can't be contained. You can ease it a little with Advil and ice, but it doesn't go away and when the Advil wears off you can't be consoled. I didn't know how I was going to make it through life without him. Honestly, I talked to a professional for a couple of years to help work through it because I really thought I wouldn't be able to live without him. He had been my constant, my best friend, the one when I cried to sit beside me. I know I"m not alone. In many of the groups I'm in, I read those words often "I don't know what I'm going to do when my dog dies". "I can't stop crying, I can't eat, I'm just feeling awful, I don't know what to do". "I'm so afraid of THAT day, I don't know how I'll survive". It's the fear of the unknown when that can debilitate you before you lose your pet. It's the agony of them being gone that leaves you lost. I took the week off from work when Sammy died, I had planned a vacation (not one I'd ever recommend anyone taking). I knew I'd be in no shape to go back to work after losing him. That week, I went into my garage and refinished 5 pieces of furniture start to end. I was hollow. I felt completely vacant. There were days I didn't know how I was going to get out of bed. I talked to my best friend a lot. I showed my real grief to mostly only dog people. More importantly, I just kept putting one foot in front of the other to get through every day. In all honesty losing Sammy was so traumatic that what I remember of those three months without a dog is this. He passed, I took a week off, refinished furniture, one time went and sat by his memorial site, and I looked at a dog for adoption in November that I was planning on going to see the next day but she was then adopted and I sobbed. My friend tells me stories of when I would call her in agony. I don't remember these calls. I don't remember much of anything but friends last confided in me (years later) that they were extremely worried about me and didn't know how to help me.

Just a little over three months after Sammy passed, I got an email 6 people removed about a little Yorkshire Terrier that needed to be re-homed. Turns out the woman who had purchased her had no idea of the meaning of a terrier. She was too much for the current owner. The woman realized she could not give the dog anywhere near what she needed. Of all the people she knew who wanted the dog she chose me, sight unseen to take Bella because I had experience with a terrier. I would know what I was getting into (having Bella for 11 years now, I can safely say I had NO idea what I was in for, but I would never change it) The night I brought her home I was overwhelmed and couldn't believe I had gotten another dog. I sat in a heap on the floor crying. My friend who had come with me said "Well, she's yours now, you can't give her back" The next morning when I woke up I realized my soul was light again. I realized I wanted to get out of bed. I was so excited to take my new puppy for a walk. I couldn't wait to show her off to everyone. My world was alive again. There's a song that says "Only love can break a heart, only love can mend it again". Bella would never take Sammy's place, but she sure filled up the empty hole in my world. Looking back on the night I brought her home I think I was confused, scared, overwhelmed and missed Sam. The apprehension was all gone by the next morning.

Getting a new puppy didn't stop the grief but it helped the emptiness. I still missed Sammy horribly and burst into tears often but I didn't feel empty inside anymore. I guess the most important thing is this: I didn't think I'd survive Sammy dying. I thought when he died, I would too. But I didn't. I just kept moving the best I could and when I couldn't I allowed that to be. I'd be lying if I said that throbbing pain went away quickly. It didn't. What I can say is that one day I realized I got through the day without breaking down. That actually made me feel kind of bad and confused but I learned that's okay. It's part of the healing process. That day turned into a week at some point and that week into a year. Truthfully, you never "get over" grief. It never goes away but what I was able to do eventually was weave my new reality, my new world, into the existing fabric of my life. I learned I was able to survive with my new reality and though the throbbing was awful at times, I would get through it. I learned that Sammy had been my lighthouse for so many years, true, but actually I had other lighthouses in my world and now I could see them. Life did get better but it was never the same. Your life is never the same after any loss. Sometimes those losses are more difficult than others. No matter the loss you have two choices. Wither away in grief for the rest of your life, or take it step by step day by day and sometimes second by second.

Two years after Bella came into my life, Clover showed up. I never thought I would be able to love another dog anywhere near what I loved Sammy. What I learned was I could love another dog just as much, it would just be different. Sammy will live forever in my heart always, and when Clover passed, I charged him with greeting her at the the Bridge and taking good care of her until we all meet again. While he is not my lighthouse here on earth anymore, I truly believe he and Clover are just two of my guardian angels and I'm certain that together they will bring me my next fur baby when I least expect it. I love you Sam.ss of Clover I will survive this too.