Today is the two-year anniversary of Ziggy’s passing. It simultaneously feels like yesterday and 10 years. To commemorate, I want to share my experience with his death, memorializing him and grief.
Knowing when It’s Time
The first time I recall my husband and I talking about the end of Ziggy’s life was driving home from the vet in January or February 2022. I’m fairly certain it was after dropping him off for his splenectomy. Since the mass was found on his spleen and there was a little bit of internal bleeding, we knew we wouldn’t have him much longer, though we’d hoped to have him a couple more months than we did.
We talked about how we’d want to euthanize him. While this was our first conversation, I had done some research at some point during the past year and a half since his diagnosis. I learned about an organization, Lap of Love, that does at-home euthanasia. I immediately knew that’s what I wanted for Ziggy and really any other dog. When I suggested it to my husband, he agreed.
We also talked about what symptoms or signs would be a signal that it was time for us. Fortunately, we were on the same page. Deciding on treatment and care over the next couple of weeks was relatively easy. We talked about it again when he went in for his transfusion and were again easily on the same page. The decisions in the last few days were harder. Especially when Ziggy continued to thump his tail when we came in the room, or he showed interest in going around the neighborhood in his stroller. We both feared the same thing – saying goodbye too soon or causing him to suffer. In the end, we both knew and agreed when it was truly time to say goodbye.
Lap of Love
One of the reasons I wanted Lap of Love is because of Cookie. I wanted her to be present for his death so that she would know what happened. Taking them both to the vet would have been too much. Cookie gets nervous at the vet; we would have been emotional about Ziggy and then stressed about Cookie’s stress about being at the vet.
Additionally, Ziggy went to the vet so much that we really wanted him to be at home and comfortable. We didn’t know it at the time that we had the conversation, but Ziggy was going to be at the vet a lot in the coming weeks. I posted a Ziggy update on March 1, 2022; he had been to the vet eight times since that January. He didn’t need to be going to the vet again on his final day.
A few days after having the stitches from his splenectomy removed, Ziggy had internal bleeding and underwent a transfusion. He was hospitalized for about 36 hours. When I brought him home, I called Lap of Love for information.
I am so grateful I called then. While it would be a few weeks before we called to schedule his passing, and while he was on the mend when I called, I was an emotional wreck. The person I spoke with that day (and every other time), was incredibly compassionate, a true angel. She answered my questions and took down our information. She was patient and calming through my tears and blubbering.
A few weeks later, when it was time, I just called them and asked for them to come the next day. And then called a short while later to see if they could come that afternoon. Being able to simply schedule it without having to go into Ziggy’s history, personality, or whether there was another dog at the house that day was a relief.
We’d hoped to euthanize Ziggy in the backyard, but it was raining lightly when the vet arrived, so we did it in our covered patio. We could have done it anywhere in the house, but Ziggy loved being outside, so we made him comfortable on the patio.
The veterinarian could not have been more sympathetic and caring for all of us. She walked us through what would happen. She took a few photos upon request (that I will never share), and took a paw print imprint. She also told us we could give him any last treats, even chocolate. Ziggy wasn’t interested in the chocolate or even a pupsicle (a favorite treat of his). Up till then, Cookie had been laying quietly, watching, by our side. But, upon seeing Ziggy’s lack of interest in ice cream, she was quick to do her brother a final “favor” and eat his ice cream. Even in death, these pups know how to make us smile.
Once he was gone, my husband and the vet carried Ziggy out in a stretcher, and Cookie, my mom, and I accompanied them. Cookie gave Ziggy a final sniff before his physical body left us too.
Memorializing Ziggy
A week or two later, we picked up his ashes at his vet’s. The ashes are stored in a wooden box engraved with his name and paw print. We received another paw print impression and a tiny glass vial with some of his ashes.
Those were part of the memorial space I created for him a top of a wooden crate (used mostly for decoration). I also created a photo book, added a framed photo, purchased a custom box to store mementos from his life, and added a candle.
The outpouring of love from our community was also incredibly special. The most meaningful was when a neighbor a couple of houses over brought the most beautiful bouquet from her garden. When we first met, she was afraid of dogs generally, and was particularly nervous around our 50 pounders. We respected her boundaries, but with time, Ziggy won her over. She always asked about him, said hi, and one time when my husband was out with Cookie, told him to come back with “the friendly one!” Her gesture meant the world to me because she was once afraid of him.
Grief
The best description of grief is one that a friend shared that compares grief to the waves of the ocean. It’s incredibly accurate. One of the most interesting experiences in grieving Ziggy was watching Cookie grieve. Cookie is a more serious dog, so it was hard at times to know if she was grieving. There were plenty of moments in the days immediately after his passing that I thought I noticed Cookie grieving, but I may have been projecting.
The biggest wasn’t clear to me until three months later. After Ziggy’s amputation, we purchased two large orthopedic dog beds. We kept one in the bedroom and the other in the living room. In the last week or so of Ziggy’s life, he barely left the bed in the living room. (The three of us would rotate sleeping there with him or all stay there with him.) The bed was covered in sheets, towels, and blankets. They were heavily soiled. After he passed, I washed everything twice. Cookie refused to lie in that bed. Even when I swapped the one in the living room with the one in the bedroom, she refused to lie in the one in the living room.
Three months to the day after he passed, Cookie walked over and lay down in Ziggy’s living room bed.
Final Thoughts
Losing a fur baby is hard. It’s difficult for people who haven’t gone through it to understand how it can be harder than the loss of a human loved one. There’s no right or wrong way, or right or wrong time, to euthanize your furbaby. You may second guess yourself, thinking it was too soon or later than it should have been. You do the best you can. Do not let anyone else influence you. And don’t influence or pressure someone to make the decision the way you would. Every dog is different. What we chose for Ziggy may be different than what we choose for another dog in a similar situation.
Rest in peace, Ziggy. See on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge.
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