Ten months and one day after her amputation, Bonnie moved on to join all her tripawd spirits with Jerry.   She fought a great battle.  Not just one but three.   She had diabetes and we had that under control.  Then she got osteosarcoma, had her right front leg amputated, had 6 chemo treatments and we had that under control.  Her lungs were clear at the last xray a month ago.  So she was not challenged enough so she got Mast Cell cancer.  It was one battle too many.  She had one chemo treatment and it was just too hard on her so we did not give her any more.   She wasn't supposed to get Prednisone, which is the primary drug to fight Mast Cell, because it interfered with the absorption of the insulin, but we tried it and we had that under control for a while.   Miracles are sparse in this arena and Bonnie never got to the top of the wait list. 

This weekend her remaining front leg swelled because there was a mast cell tumor blocking the lymph gland in her armpit. She then started throwing up.  Sunday night she would not go up the stairs to bed so I slept on the floor with her.  I shoud say she slept a little and I just watched her, hugged her, cried and told her how much I loved her.   This morning she would not stand at all and would not let the front leg touch the floor when I tried to help her up.  Her tail still wagged and her eyes still glowed, but she was losing her battle and hurting.   Not showing hurt, but impossible not to be in pain.   My husband picked her up and she did not resist.   I held her at the vets and she closed her eyes, fell asleep and passed. 

The pain is indescribable.  I hate myself for putting her down and hate myself for letting her hurt at all.  Her mom and brother are still here and are trying to comfort me but are grieving in their own way.   Bonnie is everywhere.  Feeding the two dogs tonight without Bonnie and her meds, glucose check and insulin shot seemed like I was not doing anything at all.  I miss her.   I went to our bedroom to make the bed and saw her fur and slobber spot where she lays her head between our pillow and cried for a half hour.  I open the refrigerator and see her insulin and cry.  I see her pictures on the tables with her happy face and wagging tail and cry.  She was my little trooper and I only hope that I can be half the person she thought I was.   She is gone and I am lost.  There is a hole in my heart that will never mend and I never want it to.   Love seems to small a word for Bonnie.  She was my life.  I have never been that close to a dog or person.  We were one and now I am incomplete.   I feel like I am the one missing the leg now – Bonnie.  She was my support, my joy, my soul.   Life will never be the same without her.

I am so sorry for your loss.  Your pain is throughout your post and I know that as much as we'd like to say something that would ease it, nothing will but time.  I hope you can go easy on yourself and know how much you blessed Bonnie by releasing her before it got any worse.  I admire you for helping her in that way because I think it's the hardest thing we pawrents have to do.

Peace to you (eventually, when it's time)

Mary and Cemil

You are so very brave for sharing your loss and Bonnie's story. I send you love and peace as you mourn the loss of your girl. Your words are filled with great love and compassion for her. I had tears streaming down my face as I read each word. I pray that you take time to grieve and surround yourself with those who love you.

Remember your Tripawd family is also by your side, love & prayers,

Gineej & Paris

Chris, I know your pain is intense and the grief unbearable, but think about this:  maybe Bonnie's pain was so great that she just wanted you to hurry and release her.  She must have known that her last time outside was the last time, even if you didn't, and maybe she just wanted freedom from the pain.  Her desire might have influenced you.  I know that dogs are the most forgiving creatures on the planet, and I'm sure Bonnie would not want you beating yourself up like this.  You were being compassionate. She knows that and I'm sure she still loves you like always.  Watch for a sign.

I hope you can feel her love and come to forgive yourself.  Meanwhile, we're here for you.

Mary

Thank you both for your responses.  It really does help to talk to you all.  No one else can appreciate what we have been through.  I really identify with you, Seanne, about the harness.   I am carrying it around with me all the time right now.  That is all I seem to have with her smell on it.  It's amazing, her mom and brother are in full shed so there are tons of dog hair around.  Bonnie did not shed after all the chemo.  She got her fur back but not enough to shed.  She was so soft and so clean so her smell is hard to find.   The harness and strap that the hospital gave us are all we have.  I have the spot on our bed sheets, but sooner or later I am going to have to break down and wash them.  She did not use her harness at the end because it pushed on the area of her tumor so the smell is not as heavy as I would like it.

I went out back to wander and saw our swimming pool with the attached jacuzzi.  The jacuzzi was Bonnie's.  It is round and has the seat all the way around.  She would get in there and swim round and round.   We bought those battery operated fish and put them in there so she could play.  She would swim and play and dip her head down to grab one when they went under.   It was her spot.  The other two dogs swam in the pool so she had it all to herself.  When I looked out, there was a solitary fish.   It was as if it was waiting for Bonnie.   And there go the tears again.   I never had a dog that hugged me the way she did, so I am really grateful for all your hugs.  Thanks folks.  It is a long journey and it really is lonesome right now.