This topic is something that I am unfortunately pretty familiar with. My first semester as a freshman was about halfway done when I got a call that my male shepherd was not doing well. I had been blind to the fact that while I was getting older, completing high school, and starting college my dog was getting more grey whiskers and aching more in his hips. Gunther was a rescue from one of the local SPCA's and kind of tore your heart out to look at when we first brought him home. He was thin and underweight for his age, didn't bark for months after we got him, and was terrified of any loud noises. We're not sure what events brought him to the shelter but we can guess. However it never felt like we adopted him. It was more like he adopted us. Even though he went through whatever he did, he still let us into his heart. He trusted us with everything he had and loved us with everything he was. A little while after I got the first call, I was on fall break still out at school when I got the second. This call I only vaguely remember. All I really recall was that when my parents woke up, as Gunther always slept in my parents room, Gunther didn't. I was heartbroken. Especially because he was my family. Gunther was my extra sibling growing up, my guard dog who would raise his hackles and scare the daylights out of anyone you didn't like, and a warm old soul who was the best for telling secrets to. Losing him was losing a family member and when I was finally able to get home over Christmas break I definitely lost it when I realized that for the first time in over a decade he wouldn't be there to welcome me as he always did with thundering and happy barks. The other day my female shepherd was barking and without thinking I called her Gunther and asked her to hush. Definitely strange. Losing a family member like that will still take some getting used to.
Fast forward a few months and it's the day before I'm scheduled to come home for summer break. I remember that around the time Gunther wasn't doing well, my cat Mr. Man had also been struggling with a tumor. My family had it taken care of and it was pushed to the back of my mind because I would rather think of him as being healthy. So when I get the call, I'm sitting in the library lab furiously finishing with my works cited page for my English final. I'm surrounded by classmates who are also trying to finish their paper before the deadline in a few hours so imagine their shock when I get the call that my cat is going into emergency care. When my mom woke up and went downstairs, Manny wasn't doing well with circumstances that are hard to repeat and was rushed to get help. When I got called he was being seen but they had already been told that it would be best for him if he was put to rest as to ease his suffering. Again, I missed out on a time where even though my pets had been there for me all through my life and hard ships I couldn't be there for them to say what a good boy they were and how much they were loved. Luckily the vet was amazing and kind and let my parents skype me in the office in order to see him right before to tell him how amazing he was and how much he meant to me. He was so perky when I was talking. Mr. Man was born in my bathroom when I was in first grade. I was good at getting away with things and so I was the only one allowed in there and so I was there when he was born. He was a sickly little guy and we actually almost lost him. Since that moment he continued to be a fighter. Also a sweetheart. He knew if you were upset and would curl up with you. He loved to curl up under blankets, on your chest, at your feet. He especially loved his morning coffee and Bible readings with my mom. He was such a love bug.
A few days later I left school to meet my family at my grandparents in Florida. I spend a few days with my grandparents before they arrived and the day my family got there we got a call from my brother who had stayed behind. He was watching our female shepherd, Bella, and our two adult rabbits and three baby rabbits. He was calling to tell us that one of the babies had passed away. I had never met the little guys but they were my sisters and oh so small so that tore her up. For the third time in a year I was away from home for something like this and it ripped open the not even close to being healed sore from both Gunther and Bella.
My family has definitely felt the holes left by these guys and it was a little tough being away for that transition because some of my friends at school just didn't understand. So if you're like me and going through, went through, or are fearful that something like this will happen; know that you aren't alone. Luckily I had amazing friends who listened to me and cried with me. Also my family was a huge help. They did everything that they possibly could to help my love bugs and knowing that they did everything possible helps. Maybe only a little, but helps. Anyway, if you're reading this far and want to know how I coped I have a few ideas.
1. Cry. A lot of people didn't understand why I was so upset and that's fine, but I lost best friends who I had grown up with. I was alone for all of fall break because I live so far from school but one of my best friends came into my room the day she came back and found me upset and just sat with me and cried and listened. It was the best therapy in the world.
2. Find somebody who knows what you are going through. Your family will know best of all but find someone at school who you can talk to. A few months later I was talking with one of the seniors on my softball team and she mentioned that she had lost a dog also. It was sweet to be able to talk about how big an impact animals can have on our lives and also have someone who understands exactly what I went through!
3. When the wounds aren't quite so sore consider adopting again. As I'm typing this a new ten week old male shepherd puppy named Koda is snoring at my feet. He doesn't fill the huge hole that Gunther left but he has his own place in my heart. No one will replace my boys but it's nice to see a puppy who is still growing into his feet being mentored by our female shepherd who had once pestered Gunther as a puppy. It's bittersweet.
I still miss them every day. As previously stated, I still call my other dogs Gunther. I still think I hear Manny's little pattering feet walk down the hallway at night. I'm always going to miss them but I am so so thankful for all of the years they spent with me. It doesn't matter that they couldn't speak English. They were exactly what a little girl needed growing up and I will never forget them.
