Thank you all so much for your hugs and comments. I’ve wanted to post again, but it’s still very hard for me to think about. I wish I could say that we’re doing better but we’re really not. I cry at the drop of a hat and I’m sure before this post is over I’ll be bawling again. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so much sorrow.
We talk about Bandit every day. I think we’re both having just as hard a time accepting how much this has affected us. There have been very few nights when that last morning hasn’t played through my head while I try to go to sleep — and yes, I’m beating myself up over my lack of action. Kahuna has stopped training…and that’s upsetting me as well since I know how much his racing meant to him.
Bandit was having his teeth cleaned when he died — this was the 3rd time in his 5 years he’d had them cleaned.
The autopsy came back not finding anything except Bandit’s heart being a teensy bit larger than normal (they’re usually 1% of body weight and his was 1.3%). That didn’t surprise me at all since I already knew he had a big heart. The Dr. feels Bandit had a seizure ‘episode’ while under and that’s what happened. He had had 2 seizures, that we were aware of. One around Thanksgiving, if I remember correctly, and the other December 30. We had him in the vet (seeing the same Dr.) on the 31st and the doctor told us that even though they couldn’t find evidence of a seizure in any of his labs he was treating him as a seizure dog — meaning he was being overly cautious with any medications, etc.
I wish this could make me feel better but it doesn’t. The last time I saw Bandit alive was of the tech walking him through the door to the back. He was more scared than usual and was clinging to me. I even made a joke to Kahuna that they only way they’d get Bandit off me was if they pried his claws out of my shoulder, he was hanging onto me that hard. When he walked away I saw him go down on the floor, like he had done in the past when he’d had a seizure, and I remember telling Kahuna what I saw; he asked me if I wanted to go check on him; and I told him no, that if he was having a seizure then they would bring him back and not do his teeth. 3 hours later the vet was calling me to tell me that he’d stopped breathing and his heart had stopped and I could hear them doing CPR on him in the background. I told the vet to stop because I didn’t want them to hurt him.
When I got to the vet they had Harley waiting on me. I was very surprised how upset everyone was. The vet was crying, the tech who had cleaned his teeth (then gone to lunch not knowing what was to happen immediately after) was bawling and hugging me. Kahuna arrived not too long after that (I had to send the Marines out to hunt him down, since he was out running) and then they brought my sweetie baby to me all wrapped up in a blanket.
I used to hold him like a baby and sing “You Are my Sunshine” to him. He loved to be held and was a true ‘blanket’ dog, not liking to be cold, and we have blankets strewn all over the house that he would snuggle in and under. It just broke my heart how cold he was while I held him and snuggled him and rocked him – and when I looked for the last time into his whiskey colored eyes, they were solid black. That’s when it really hit me that my Bandit was gone. We let Harley sniff him and you could tell she knew. I don’t know how long I sat there, maybe an hour, but it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, giving him back knowing that I’d never see him again.
To top it all off we feel like we’re losing HarleyQuinn as well since her personality has started changing being the only spoiled princess in the house. We’ve started discussing getting a rescue so she’ll have someone to play with since she’s obviously lost without Bandit. We don’t want a male though because we don’t want another male to try to ‘boss’ her.
Yesterday we grilled and played fetch for hours. We have a new, larger, fenced in backyard and it’s sad thinking how much Bandit would have loved the extra room to run in. Everything always seems to lead back to him. I find myself feeling very fragile. I can remember telling Kahuna as soon as he walked in the door at the vet’s office “I have no more strong left” and that’s exactly how I feel. Used up. No more ‘give-a-shit’ left. I catch myself staring off into space and cannot even remember if I was thinking about anything.
It’s been almost 4 weeks now. I finally got up the nerve to call the vet and reschedule Harley’s teeth appointment. I’m sick to my stomach thinking of the same thing happening with her.
