Monday, July 13, 2009


How many times have I started to write this? A few.

I have been negligent in writing what must be written, but I guess here it goes.

I officially hate the month of June. My Mom died the 26th of June in 07. Breast cancer. Way too soon, as it is with most of our parents. She had so much left to do and so much more to contribute, but it wasn't going to be. Mom was a going concern with a full social calender that I know I could never see happen in my life. Her death left many spaces at many tables including her bridge club, her quilting guild, her nursing alumni, her occupational health group, her friends, and most importantly, her space at the family table. I miss her terribly and think of her daily.

June is now even sadder, as we lost both of our girls one week apart, at the end of June and Doug and I were devastated.

Tessa had a fibrosarcoma in her mouth which was originally diagnosed June 20, 07 and was given 3-7 months to live. We thankfully had her for 2 more years. Those were a great 2 years, where we did all the things she loved and just spent really good time with her appreciating all she brought to our lives.

Maizee was diagnosed with hemangiopericytoma 5 months after Tessa, but it wasn't horrible news. It was a slow growing tumor in her front leg that could be removed. It was removed, but it grew back and we had made the decision to remove the leg this July. It was not to be.

As Tessa got sicker, we made the plans to have a home euthanasia, but she went downhill very quickly and we had to have it done at the vet's office. Even though we knew it was coming, it was still so hard to let her go. It was the right thing to do - she wasn't ever going to improve - intellectually making the decision to end her suffering, but emotionally just shattering.

One of the reasons we wanted her to go at home was because I wanted Maizee to be able to spend time with Tessa's body and know that she was gone. Maizee looked to Tessa for her social cues and depended on her completely. I knew she would have a hard time of it. Maizee spent the week after Tessa died, roaming and circling the house crying, whimpering and barking for Tessa. It was agony to see her miss her friend so much. Tessa's breeder offered one of her retiring girls to us to try to help ease our pain and we said yes. I picked up Bella on the Sunday morning, brought her home Sunday afternoon and by 8:15, Maizee was dead. The vet feels Maizee died of a hemangiosarcoma. This particular cancer is blood based, extremely virulent and kills within months of forming. They can develop in the spleen or liver and show no symptoms until they burst and like in Maizee's case, bleed internally and kill quickly.

I cannot express the depth of our pain, because nothing is adequate. I closed the business for 2 days and just tried to deal with the scope of our loss. I have come to find that with every death, brings the deaths that have gone before. I mourn all those who are gone from my life, but also to try to appreciate what they have brought to my life, what they have taught me, how they have contributed to who I am today and think how much richer my life has been for having shared time with them. I cry for the loss, but try not to dwell in the negative, it serves no purpose. Life is for celebrating. Life is fleeting. Death is inevitable - it's what makes life precious. Love remains to remind us of the wonderful memories we have of those who are no longer with us. Love sustains us and comforts us. Love deeply and with abandon and it will take you to some really special places. Give someone you love a hug. Appreciate them now 'cause you never know....


  1. My heart is breaking for you. The passing of a much loved pet can be paralyzing. I lost my beloved cat Ramona in March and will miss her with every day that goes by. It does get more bearable but the pain never subsides completely.

  2. I am so sorry for your loss. Hugs.

  3. Although I don't know you personally my heart cries for you. I'm sitting here behind my computer with tears in my eyes after reading your sad story, it reminds me of our Border Collie Owen that we had to euthanize because of an auto-immune disease when he was only 2,5 years. This is over 7,5 years ago and although we now have two new dogs I still miss him.

  4. I just wanted to send my condolences to you and your family on this very sad loss. Please, take care!

  5. Thanks for all your kind thoughts - we really appreciate it.
    Our pets touch us in such profound ways and their time with us is never long enough, but I couldn't imagine living without them. I know I still miss our toy poodle we had growing up and that was over 30 years ago. It's a cliche, but time does help and it takes as long as it takes to not feel as sad, and each day is easier.

  6. Let me offer my condolences _ I lost my cat to a car accident in March-I hate that month-believe me you miss them so much, feel horrible you cannot do anything-I am glad you have Bella-she is not your girls-but can give you joy-we got two new kitties-and while I miss my little joy and she left us too early , my new kitties put a smile on my face. May you smile again.