Anyone who has ever loved a dog, an animal of any kind, can relate to the unique pain of losing that loving, comforting presence.
On the day after Thanksgiving, my dog succumbed to an aggressive cancer that by the time we became aware of it, had already metastasized throughout her body. This is the brief history of my beautiful Golden Retriever as I say good-bye.
Some years ago my husband and I lost a beloved pet. I was looking online for another to adopt for company for our remaining dog and cats and came across a site with Golden Retriever puppies “available.” When I called it turned out the puppies had all been adopted out, but the breeder said she had a breeding dog whose last litter comprised puppies so large, a C-section had to be performed. With her breeding days over, a hysterectomy followed.
In my naïveté, I thought a grown dog, then five years old, would be easier than a puppy requiring house-breaking and training. Wrong! Our girl did not require those particular steps, but having lived her life in a kennel, no more than a cage, let out only for multiple deliveries of puppies over the years, we quickly learned this Golden was afraid of people, something quite unusual for the breed. She seemed overwhelmed from the beginning with the run of our home and yard, perhaps just the freedom, certainly the size. But as intended, she immediately became the best friend and sister to our Lab of the same age and soon was beloved by a busy household. She never knew what to make of our cats, who as I reminded all residents, rule!
Flash-forward to a few months ago when I found McKinley had a large tumor, growing fast. After three consults with various types of veterinarians, we opted for the tumor removal surgery but received bad news thereafter. The vets did not recommend chemo or radiation as her cancer was a particularly aggressive type. That told us a lot about what we didn’t want to know.
But being a staunch proponent of vibrational healing through electromagnetic field manipulation, I stoked up my frequency generator, received programming advice from the manufacturer in Canada, and pretty much ran programs all day long to eradicate the cancer, build immunities, cleanse organs, and address ancillary conditions that can accompany serious illness. Both my sick dog and her healthy sister were attracted to the healing machine’s emitted vibrations. Clearly they made them both feel better.
However, soon after surgery, my Golden girl began to limp. It got worse and worse. At first we thought she’d sprained or strained her left ankle (projection as I had done that myself in September). But as the limping worsened, we took another X-ray which revealed another tumor had invaded her elbow. The bone cancer metastasis was as virulent as the breast cancer, most likely originally brought about by hormones from so many pregnancies. And now it appeared cancer was everywhere.
So although she had six really good years with us—people who loved her, made sure she got home-cooked meals, and daily exercise—my little Golden girl is no longer of this world.
When my first Golden Retriever was failing, I asked my vet why don’t they die? If life becomes such a painful misery, why don’t they let go? He said, they want to stay with you as long as they can, ignoring the pain as best they can. They just want to live and love.
I’ve written that my many pets over the years taught me about unconditional love. It’s what I felt for them and they for me and many others. Since people don’t necessarily share that capability for each other, it’s why pets will always be a part of my existence, the dependably loving center removed from what else occurs in my life.
Love. Our pets are right. It’s really all that matters.