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I just wanted to say "thank you" to everyone who offered condolences for my family and me over the death of our dog, Zorro.
It happened so unexpectedly, and so fast, that it has been difficult to take in. There are still too many "whys" about what happened, and it's doubtful those questions will ever be answered.
As far as we can tell, Zorro suffered either some kind of aneurysm or heart attack. We woke up Sunday morning around 7:30 to find that he had vomited, and was in his basket, breathing hard and listless. We called the local vet clinic emergency line and left our number for the vet to give us an immediate callback. Within about 20 minutes Zorro was moving around restlessly in his basket, but his eyes were unfocused and his tongue was turning blue. Having still not had a callback, we called the emergency number again, and this time the doc called back right away, and said to get Zorro in to the clinic immediately.
My husband went upstairs to look up directions to the emergency clinic, and I stayed with Zorro, petting him, holding up his head, and begging him to hang on a little longer. I tried to give him water by wetting my fingers and putting them in his mouth, but he was completely unaware of what I was doing. He reflexively bit down once, then another time, and then just...stopped breathing. The whole process from the time we woke up until he died was under an hour. My only consolation is that he died in his own basket, in my arms, with the children standing nearby. Other than that, I can only be angry that an otherwise apparently healthy 7-year-old dog with so much more to live for has died.
He was my very best friend. Once my youngest started school, he was my daily companion in everything I did. We went for walks together, he followed me around the house as I did housework, I talked to him and hugged him when I was feeling down, and I bought special treats for him. Yesterday was hard without my furkid. Every spot in this house reminds me of him. I keep thinking I hear the creak of his basket, the click of his toenails. I missed the mail because there was no barking watchdog to warn me that the postman was at the door. And for the first time in years, I did not go for a walk in our park.
My husband and children are also likewise devastated. I've lost animals before, and it always hurts, but Zorro was something special, and thus his absence leaves a bigger hole in our lives.
For those of you who don't know or care about any of this, I'm sorry to ramble on so, but Zorro is worth a eulogy, and this is the best I can do. He was sweet, loving, gentle, clumsy, not-too-bright, and shed like hell. But I'd give a whole lot to be able to complain about having to vacuum the floor every day again.
Thanks again for your thoughts. They really are appreciated.
It happened so unexpectedly, and so fast, that it has been difficult to take in. There are still too many "whys" about what happened, and it's doubtful those questions will ever be answered.
As far as we can tell, Zorro suffered either some kind of aneurysm or heart attack. We woke up Sunday morning around 7:30 to find that he had vomited, and was in his basket, breathing hard and listless. We called the local vet clinic emergency line and left our number for the vet to give us an immediate callback. Within about 20 minutes Zorro was moving around restlessly in his basket, but his eyes were unfocused and his tongue was turning blue. Having still not had a callback, we called the emergency number again, and this time the doc called back right away, and said to get Zorro in to the clinic immediately.
My husband went upstairs to look up directions to the emergency clinic, and I stayed with Zorro, petting him, holding up his head, and begging him to hang on a little longer. I tried to give him water by wetting my fingers and putting them in his mouth, but he was completely unaware of what I was doing. He reflexively bit down once, then another time, and then just...stopped breathing. The whole process from the time we woke up until he died was under an hour. My only consolation is that he died in his own basket, in my arms, with the children standing nearby. Other than that, I can only be angry that an otherwise apparently healthy 7-year-old dog with so much more to live for has died.
He was my very best friend. Once my youngest started school, he was my daily companion in everything I did. We went for walks together, he followed me around the house as I did housework, I talked to him and hugged him when I was feeling down, and I bought special treats for him. Yesterday was hard without my furkid. Every spot in this house reminds me of him. I keep thinking I hear the creak of his basket, the click of his toenails. I missed the mail because there was no barking watchdog to warn me that the postman was at the door. And for the first time in years, I did not go for a walk in our park.
My husband and children are also likewise devastated. I've lost animals before, and it always hurts, but Zorro was something special, and thus his absence leaves a bigger hole in our lives.
For those of you who don't know or care about any of this, I'm sorry to ramble on so, but Zorro is worth a eulogy, and this is the best I can do. He was sweet, loving, gentle, clumsy, not-too-bright, and shed like hell. But I'd give a whole lot to be able to complain about having to vacuum the floor every day again.
Thanks again for your thoughts. They really are appreciated.
