It has been an exceptionally awful week for me. My dog Belle lost her battle with cancer and Cushings Disease. We had to have her euthanized on Saturday. It had been a long time coming, but somehow even knowing what we were building up to didn’t made it any easier.
Belle was a staffy that had been with my family for nearly eight years. We don’t know her exact age because she was a rescued dog. My parents had found her in the Australian desert, walking down the middle of a highway, hundreds of kilometres from the nearest town. She had no microchip and while the police checked (no vets to ask in the remote outback!) they didn’t have any record of anyone looking for a dog in the next town. She had been dumped, or fallen off the back of someone’s truck.
She quickly adopted my father as a favourite and was never quite the same after he died. She was inseparable from my cattle dog, but was very close to all of the other animals.
Belle, Moono and myself at 'The Devil's Marbles' in the Northern Territory, Australia.
One of the symptoms of Cushings Disease is an insatiable appetite. I don’t know how she did it, but she managed to train all nine of my parrots to give her food. I was constantly telling her off for getting the birds to throw their vegetables at her. They’d wait until my back was turned and then be sneakily passing food through their cage bars to her.
She came running when they called her and answered every alarm call that they made. They were hers and she guarded them from any intruding cats or wild birds. She’d find a sunny spot and sleep in the middle of the aviaries.
Belle guarding the birds when they were out in the sun.
The last night with her was heartbreaking. She used to sleep in a dog bed on the floor of my bedroom. She woke me up in the early hours of the morning groaning in pain. My cat and cattle dog were desperately trying to wake me, in order to get me to help her. I grabbed her next dose of painkillers and gave it to her hours earlier than planned. 30 minutes later she was still lying with her head in my lap groaning, so I reached for the painkillers again.
Happier times. Moono and Belle unimpressed with their footwear. (The area had particularly dangerous thorns and the ground was scorching hot!)
I did the maths in my head and (grateful that vet science was my field of study) upped her dosage to the absolute maximum safe dose. It worked. In another 15 minutes she was asleep and her breathing had normalised. My cat and dog were looking at me and Fid (my Blue and Gold macaw) was making baby noises. He’d heard the commotion and was regurgitating at me as if feeding me would stop me crying. I found myself cleaning up a lot of bright green bird vomit in the morning. Seems someone ate too much broccoli the day before!
Fid happily ignoring Belle's personal space, while she snored on.
Nothing was going to stop me crying though. I knew that it was Belle’s last night because I knew that when I spoke to her vet in the morning and explained what dose I’d had to administer, the vet would tell me that there was nowhere else for me to go with her medication. I could be pretty sure that the inoperable tumour in her bladder was now obstructing. There were also signs of a stomach ulcer. All that was left was uncontrollable pain. There was no real choice.
I can’t stop replaying her last moments in my head. She was in my arms when the vet gave her the injection. Belle turned her head to look me right in the eyes in those last few seconds. I could see my own tear-stained face reflected back at me. She licked a tear off my cheek and then a second later was gone.
Otto (my musk lorikeet) loved to preen Belle's head. He absolutely adored her.
The house seems so empty without her. It’s a cliche, but I feel like a part of me is missing. My eclectus Pepi, won’t stop calling her. He has been whistling and screaming her name for days now. My elderly galah keeps yelling his loudest alarm call, which is completely freaking out my cattle dog Moono, (who in turn won’t leave my side). Moono won’t even let me go to the bathroom unescorted.
Meanwhile, I found my cat trying to cross the main road, when I was going to the local shops. He never goes far from the house and this was quite a walk. I think he was looking for Belle. It was a close thing – he was nearly hit by a car. I grabbed him and drove him home. I’ve locked him in and he’s taken refuge in Belle’s bed, sleeping snuggled up to her coat. He only comes out when he decides to switch to sleeping in Belle’s dog crate. The new cat meanwhile, keeps pacing the corridors meowing. Even he seems to be aware of Belle’s absence.
My cat Lola, sleeping in Belle's crate.
The weirdest time is when I try to feed the dogs. I keep accidentally getting out too many bowls. I hadn’t realised I did it, but apparently I always said each dog’s name as I put their bowl down (so they could identify which one was theirs). I did it in the same order each night. Belle was always first, so now I skip her name. My Eclectus has obviously learned this routine and has picked up on the difference. He has now started saying her name over and over in a really slow and deliberate way when he sees me start to feed the dogs. It’s as if he’s trying to correct my mistake. The exaggerated way that he says her name conveys quite clearly that he thinks I’m stupid and that I’m unable to realise that I’m doing the routine wrong.
My mother, Cocky Boy the galah, my cat Lola and Belle.
I hadn’t realised just how much of an impact her loss was going to have on the entire household. My dog has filled my bed with squeaky toys (what he does when I’m sick), which seems to be his way of cheering me up. I can’t even roll over in bed without squeaking! The lorikeets have all stepped up their squeaky noises as a result.
Belle, refusing to be left out of the photo I was trying to take with Fid.
They’re all looking for her. I wish the birds would stop calling her. I can literally still hear her bark, because they’re all doing it on repeat. I just don’t know how to get them to understand that she is not coming back and I don’t really know how to help them through it. Judging from the number of dog food bowls that I keep getting out; it’s probably going to be a while before I even fully appreciate that she’s gone myself.
Days later, Moono continues to wait patiently at the door for Belle to return. He looks up hopefully at every sound.
I can’t believe I’m saying this but I even miss her snoring. Nothing feels right and I’m not sure how long it’s going to take before it does again. The only thing that helps is knowing she’s not in pain anymore. I’m going to miss her.
Mel Vincent works as an animal rehabilitator out of Australia.
62 comments
I lost my Moluccan Cockatoo on July 4 this year. We had her for 35 years and she died laying on my chest in bed at 1:30 am. Being with her for her last 2 days on earth helped ease some of the pain for me, but the thing that really helps me accept her passing is the thought that she is now happily frollicking in “birdie heaven” with my 3 other birds I lost over the years.
When I was young we had two parakeets. I didn’t treat them like I should have. One day I put them in a small completely dismantlable hamster cage. I had a big umbrella in it. The birds liked being outside. It tipped over in the wind and they flew away. Later I got two hamsters fro Christmas. One escaped from it’s temporary cage in a Landry tub with no holes. The other was found dead chewing on the bars of the cage much later. Later I got a kitten from my cousin and named her “Ebbie Penelope Ebtho on a stick Moo”, Ebbie for short. She was the nicest cat ever. I once closed the back sliding door on her tail. She still played with me. One day she never came back. Later my mom said she had the feeling Ebbie wouldn’t come back if we let her out. We had a German Shepherd named John Lindbergh. We gave her to some one else who had two others. We had two Chiwawas named Ferdinand and Isabella. They weren’t really trained. I got tired of taking care of them and we gave them away. I was taking care of my friends cat then she spent three days on our living room floor then died. She was really old. I also had a budgie. My parents got another one to be it’s friend. My bird died because it got sacred to death by my friends cat. I didn’t miss it because it wasn’t trained. My Parents Surprised me with two baby birds. We found out that birds like to be in pairs of two. We tried other birds until we found one that worked. Our neighbors had us take care of their bird when they went on vacation. The where tired of it and let us keep it. One day we came home from church and one of the birds had a bloody eye. It died. We where also low on food and one more bird died. We now have three supposedly girl birds. If you ask the lord hi might let you talk with your dog. I talk with my dead pets. They still speak dog cat and bird but I can understand them just like I could when they where alive. Try it. I thing the lord will favor you. Thanks for the post
So sorry to hear of your loss…may I recommend a good book? “My Dream of Heaven” by Rebecca Springer- a true account of a Methodist woman in the 1890’s who saw Heaven. One of the things she related was seeing a dog that had been hit by a train when it saved a little child’s life. O the surprises that Heaven holds….myh heart goes out to you. Mark, Hampton, VA USA
Driving home last week I saw a dead crow in the middle of the highway, and another crow on a telephone wire nearby looking down on it. I stopped the car and picked up the dead crow and took it off the road and set it down near a tree.The other crow followed me. As I got back in my car, I looked back and saw the live crow perched in the tree looking down on the dead one. They were probably mates. It still makes me sad to think about it. Animals do grieve.
I am so sorry for your loss. I just lost my Mingo after having him for 18 years. Belle will never be forgotten, not by you or by her brothers and sisters and she will be waiting for you on the other side. She is now happy and free from all pain. Most likely romping with Mingo :) I find that the pain lessens as you let go and begin to only remember the good times. My babies are also grieving their brother’s passing. Animals do go through their own grieving process. My parrots still call him, sometimes even scold him for making noise while they are trying to sleep. My other two dogs are still waiting for him to come home. It has been two weeks since his passing. Thank you for sharing your story, it has made my coping with my loss more bearable, knowing that there is a community who understands how we feel about our family members. Please remember that you are not alone. I will keep you in my prayers.
Dear Mel, So sorry to hear your sad news. Your Belle looks just like my late Staffie Nimrod who was bought as a companion for my husband and ended up being my babie with the softest heart you can imagine. We also lost him to cancer, a tumour we didn’t even know he had until it was too late to do anything so we lost him suddenly, it was a huge shock and took my years to learn to live with and left me with a lot of guilt of things I felt we should have, could have etc. Somthing to remember that might bring you some solace is that you had time to say your goodbyes and show her how much youn loved her and how much she meant to you in her last days and to make them as comfortable as you could, I wish I could have had more time with my Baby to show him things you always think there will be time for tomorrow and sometimes, tomorrow doesn’t come. I’m thinking of you and praying for you.
As I read your story I had tears welling up in my eyes. My partner and I lost our beloved Angus in February this year. Angus was a Bull Mastiff x English Mastiff and was just a loveable lump of a thing :-) He was diagnosed with Lymphoma at Christmas, and with the encouragement of a specialist in Sydney we decided to go ahead with a treatment of chemo for him – sadly it was this that killed him. The drugs were just too toxic for his poor body. He was just 9 yrs old and in 100% health aprt from the cancer. Our Red Collared Lorikeet ‘Sparra’ still calls out for him even now, and even I miss the 4am wake up calls to tuck him back into his bed when he got cold during the night. After he went, the vet was really good and allowed us to bring our other two dogs, Zac and Jug in to see him, just so they knew what was going on – it was the hardest night of my life so far. We decided to get him cremated so that we would have with him with us forever, and when the Pets At Peace guy bought him home he gave us a flower and a card with the following on it: JUST A DOG. From time to time, people tell me, “lighten up, it’s just a dog”, or “that’s a lot of money for just a dog”. They don’t understand the distance travelled, the time spent or the costs involved for “just a dog”. Many hours have passed an my only company was “just a dog”, but I did not once feel slighted. Some of my my saddest moments have been brought about by “just a dog”, and in those …days of darkness, the gentle touch of “just a dog” gave me comfort, and the reason to overcome the day. If you think ,its “just a dog”, then you probably understand phrases like, “just a friend”, “just a sunrise”, “just a promise”…. “Just a dog”, brings into my life the very essence of friendship, trust and pure unbridled joy. “Just a dog” brings out the compassion and patience that make me a better person. Because of “just a dog” I get up early, take long walks, and look longingly to the future. So for me and people like me, it’s not “just a dog” but an embodiment of all the hopes and dreams of the future, the fond memories of the past and the pure joy of the moment. “Just a dog” brings out the best in me and diverts my thoughts away from myself and the worries of the day. I hope that someday they can understand that it’s not “just a dog”, but the thing that gives me humanity and keeps me from being just a woman…. So the next time you hear the phrase “just a dog” smile because “they just don’t understand”. AUTHOR UNKNOWN. So don’t let anyone say that it ‘was just a dog’, as anyone who has ever lost any sought of loved pet knows better!!!!!
I prayed for your loss!
i am so glad that you are so sad . Why? , because after reading your story i just know what a good and happy life your dog had. I know nohing will make you feel better but you must realalise that she was going to die, and so will all your birds and cats. So if you cant stand the pain you can always give your animals to someone that wont care when they die?The only problem with that is they will have a horrible life without love and true affection. Its hard i know and believe it or not i have wet eyes just knowing what you feel. I dont know you, but i think you are lovely and your animals are luckey to be able to live and die with someone like you. Just look at all the ill treatment that goes on with animals.Some animals have a horrible tortured life and then die and no-one even cares. You are luckey to have been able to give her what she had . The end was going to happen regardless off weather she meet you or not. Bugger i want to cry , but i cant as i am at work and i am a big brave man etc etc. have an indian ringneck and a budgie, Both very very tame and they trust me 100 per cent. I will be distroyed when eather die, but there is no way that i want to be pet free just to avoid seeing what was going to happen to them with or without me. Good luck and cheers to all your feathered friends. Grant
The pain goes with bonding to a pet. It means the relationship was worth having. That she died held with love instead of alone and desperate was the best anyone could do for family. My worst day so far was putting down my last dog. Broken back from a traffic incident, paraplegic and no bladder release function, he wasn’t improving after 3 weeks so our vet said he never would. He’d always lived for his dawn and dusk beach trips. There wouldn’t be another, so it was time. Hard as it is, we do what we have to for them? I have no idea how I would deal with any of the Cockatoos dying. I’ll have to, so the others live on. I’m convinced we harm children and animals isolating them from death. My last partner was allowed to visit her Mother in the hospital last at age 7. She figured out it was the last time. All the adults pretended it wasn’t. She still grieves 40 years later that she was denied saying good bye for real. Our animals need the closure that vision and smell give them when a part of their life goes away. I believe they accept death far better than the endless waiting or the feeling of being abandoned, particularly by a mate. Remember the good times, You wouldn’t have missed them even knowing exactly how you’d feel now. We outlive our dogs and cats. The parrots will be another type of loss when we leave them. Life is beginnings, middles and ends. I’m getting more acquaintance with ends than I like.
Dear Mel, I too cried my eyes out reading your story! I too lost many furry friends in my life. The worst animal and people loss of my whole life was my 15 y/oafrican grey, Pepsi. My best friend of 9 years kept me from suicide in a difficult time of my life and when he got a rare liver disease I couldn’t save him! I’m sending a poem to Chet hoping he can send it to you and others that my Mom sent me after Pepsi passed. I hope he can forward to you. Never forget and always love….and trust you’ll be reunited someday……I do……..XOXO……..Gin
Dear Mel, Very sorry to hear about your dog. I dont have a dog but only a lory bird. I know if they day he dies I will be very upset also. I feel your sorrow and there is not much I can say to confort you but keep but remember all you did as a good person finding your dog when he was lost on the raod. He had a wonder life with you and your family and that he will surely will never forget where ever he is now in good hands . Best regards, Nanette
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