Hello beasties!

I think maybe it’s time for a life update. Whatcha think?  It’s been a while. Where to start? There’s a lot to talk about. Let’s start with my little family’s heart and soul and how they’re both over the rainbow bridge now. 💔

We just said goodbye to both of our pups in the same week and we are not okay.

I had a whole other catch up plan for us, to catch up. But after last week happened, I think it’s best to start with this and then figure out the rest later. I’m still spilling, just in a different order.

In about 476  rough days’ worth of  rough weeks, last week was one of the roughest.

Even though I feel like the word “rough” is an understatement, but I also don’t want to be so dramatic or whiny because I feel that in the nearly 500 days of this chapter in life, I have already handled with plenty of dramatics and whines. But I really want to say last week was heart shattering. Not rough. Actually, rough doesn’t even come close.

Wednesday we had to say goodbye to our sweet Lola Falola. The Boy’s best girl since he was in 2nd grade needed to cross that rainbow bridge. For Lola, our lumpy queen… well we knew her time was limited. We loved her for the last 12 of her 17 years and she loved us unconditionally. She was at an age where anesthesia was more dangerous than the lumps she grew. Finally one of her lumps was not benign.

We knew our time was limited.

Our girl was just tired. Still demanding and aggressively affectionate as ever, but tired. Wednesday morning, a lump ruptured and we rushed her to the vet knowing she was not coming home. Even though we knew… even though it was a talk The Boy and I had had with each other many times in recent months… we weren’t ready. Lola was our girl.

Otto went with us.

He was suddenly not feeling well either. First his hind legs seemed to get weaker. We thought he had hurt himself, so we had him resting as much as possible. But that same morning, his front legs also started giving out. By the time we got to the vet’s office, Otto could not move at all.

We talked with the vet.

Let me pause here and just let y’all know how wonderful the entire staff is. I watched them while we were holding our sick babies and saw how they interacted with every being, four-legged and two… they were kind and compassionate to every single patient and their humans: excited for the baby milestones and successful treatments and empathetic towards the sicker patients.

Goodnight, sweet girl.

Lola’s cancer was obviously not going to get better. And even though she was mostly her diva self, we could see how tired our best girl was. She was less demanding for attention and even turned down a couple snacks. We were loving on her one last time and saying our goodbyes and thanking her for our best family years with her, knowing these were the last smelly kisses from her. She knew too. I felt it. She was calm and quiet – not at all our Lola girl. But she did grace us with those trademark smelly kisses and licked away The Boy’s tears just like the sweet Lola girl she is.

The vet took her to put her I.V. in and brought her back. We loved on her some more. Honestly, we could have been snuggled her forever and it would not have been enough time. The vet came back in and we held Lola and Otto curled in next to her while she went to sleep.

It’s never enough time.

50/50

Dr. M couldn’t say for sure what was going on with Otto. Or else she couldn’t bring herself to tell us any more bad news while we were also saying goodbye to Lola. They gave him a steroid injection and oral steroids along with pain meds for us to give him to see if his condition would improve. With everything we told her, she said the meds were a 50/50 chance.

We took it.

One more day

They gave Otto his injection and sent us off with his other meds and instructions. When we got home, we impatiently waited for any changes and counted down to his next dose to see if there was any improvement. And we snuggled him and kissed his little furry ears as much as possible in between trying to tempt him with food and treats and his favorite… coffee. He had no appetite and threw up everything he drank. It was not good. His first dose of his oral meds didn’t make any difference. I stayed up all night watching my sweet boy.

Thursday morning, he had more meds. No appetite. Very little thirst. He stayed lying on my bed all day with me right by his side. Except. Except… when I went to the bathroom, my sweet Velcro doggy somehow made his way to outside the bathroom door like he usually does. I don’t know how he got the strength to jump off the bed and walk to the hallway, but that gave us all so much hope.

That was the last time he stood on his own.

That night

His surge of energy didn’t last long. We had to hold him up so he could pee, bring a syringe of water to his mouth, try tempting him with treats and chicken while he was laying down. All of it. He didn’t move. He couldn’t. He just lay there, staring into space or looking for me to stay next to him. Again, I stayed up all night just watching him, praying or a miracle and begging my boy to be strong one more time and let the medicine work. It didn’t.

Throughout the night, I noticed his breath getting more labored and shallow. And I knew. I couldn’t put him through a whole weekend of that torture because I was too selfish to admit the 50/50 odds were not going the way we wanted. He just looked so scared. I can’t close my eyes and not see my sweet Otto Pop’s face looking so sad and so scared at the same time.

At about 5am Friday morning, I got up to take a quick shower before the rest of the house woke up. When I got out, I could hear light whimpering. I ran to my bed and saw that he had managed to rotate himself to face the bathroom where I was showering. Forever my Velcro dog.

Back to the vet.

We all started saying our goodbyes at home while we got ready and on the long drive back. We didn’t have to wait this time. They brought us into the private room immediately where we could love on him again and waited to repeat the same horrible process we just went through a couple days ago.

We kept on hugging and kissing Otto and then he went to sleep.

It’s too quiet now.

We have Alexa constantly playing music in the kitchen and dining room because we don’t hear the clickety clack of their little paw-titas running for snacks and – in Otto’s case – a little cafecito. The blinds are closed there too because we can’t stand looking at their doggy door that they loved so much.

The bed is too big and there is too much blanket. We all have way too much personal space. It’s awful.

They were our heart and soul.

Lola and Otto have completed the make-up of our family for over 10 years. It was the four of us. Lola was The Boy’s best girl, his soul dog, since 2nd grade. Otto was his heart dog since 3rd. Lola was my heart dog and I truly believe Otto was my soul dog too.

It adds extra pain because, through all the hard times, their cuddles and snuggles were part of what helped us wad through all that. But now when we need their snuggles and cuddles an extra lot more? Yea, it’s so hard.

There is a bit of relief knowing that now that they’re over the rainbow bridge, they’re both pain-free and my aunt Tupita was there with Lola’s sister, Coco to greet them.

But still…

We miss them both deeply.

 

Lap of Love offers support for pet loss grief.