I slowly meandered through the woods with Chester and sat on a log. I had things I needed to say to him. Things I wanted him to know.
There was no better setting than in the woods a few miles from my house to tell him. We’d shared almost 16 years of adventure in places like that.
As I held him tight and started to whisper to him, he looked away from me like he was searching for something. He struggled against my tight grasp.
Photo Credit: Brooke Mallory Photography
My tears didn’t phase him. Unlike in times past when he would have recognized I was in pain, there was no nuzzle or soft lick to catch my tears.
As soon as I set him down, he started compulsively hunting for food. Looking for that next morsel, even though a lot of what he was trying to eat were little rocks and sticks.
I realized this had become his life. The only time he had any energy was when he was looking for food and, believe me, he got plenty of food. It was more like a never-ending obsession.
Note: This post was written as part of my grieving process the morning of the day we chose to say goodbye to Chester. It’s raw and largely unedited. Please excuse any typos or grammar mistakes.
I’m a Monster
Between my friends and our blog fans, literally 100+ people have shared their condolences, their own heartbreaking stories, and their support in the few days between when we made the decision and when it was “the time”.
I talked with several friends on the phone, including those that have been in my shoes and those I knew I could tell exactly how I felt and they wouldn’t judge me.
I read and appreciated every single comment. Every answered call for help and support was invaluable.
BUT, underlying it all, was the feeling that they wouldn’t be so kind of they actually knew what I was doing.
I was killing my dog. For selfish reasons.
They would think I’m a monster.
You see, Chester could still walk. Three quarters of the time anyway and most of that was shaky at best.
He still had so much energy during the 25% of the time he wasn’t sleeping.
Like when he was barking compulsively and running around like a madman demanding food… whether it was actually dinner time or not.
Or between 2 am and our 5 am breakfast time. So much that I couldn’t get more than 10-15 minutes of sleep here and there in those wee hours of the morning.
Or if he had to pee, which he would do two steps from the dog bed without a thought. Thank goodness for diapers early on or our relationship wouldn’t have made it this far.
BUT, there were also things that were happening now, and writing I could see on the wall, that led to my decision.
There Were Signs
A year and a half ago when he first began to pace and demand bark, and I could finally tell for sure that he had doggy dementia, I started giving him Hemp CBD on a regular basis. That, in combination with Vetriscience Composure, was enough to manage his anxiety and get him to calm down.
We tried the suggested supplements and medication and nothing seemed to make a difference.
Fast forward to 6 weeks ago and, out of desperation for his wellbeing and mine, I asked our vet for heavier drugs to make him sleep through the night.
They worked in that they would definitely knock him out. EXCEPT for when his hunger drive kicked in at 2 or 3 am. Nothing put a dent in that.
I liken it to an animal, like a deer, that is almost dead in the woods. But, oh boy, if you go to touch it you will be in for a big surprise as it’s fight or flight adrenaline kicks in and it jumps up and tries to stomp you to death.
It’s an instinct thing. Not a thinking thing. Or even any indication of physical health.
As our veterinarian said, “His little reptilian brain is taking over. He’s animated but it doesn’t mean he’s mentally there. A lot of what he’d doing could just be instinctual impulses.”
The other thing was that the medication did definitely help him be less restless in his sleep and sleep maybe an hour later than he normally would.
But, between when the meds started to kick in and we went to bed, it turned him from “I’m really shaky on my feet” to “I can’t walk because my back legs won’t work.” It was heartbreaking.
He was falling a lot more often though, even without the medication.
Up until 6 weeks ago, it was clear he had dementia but he generally knew where he was. We remained hopeful and optimistic about his condition.
He started waiting on the wrong side of the door. Half the time when I tried to guide him towards the door with my hand, he turned and tried to walk the other way.
He walked laps around the perimeter of the back yard because he couldn’t find the stairs.
He ran right past our driveway and started to head up the hill when he got out of the car.
If he did turn up the walkway (usually by being directed) he would run right past the front porch steps into the breezeway between us and our neighbor’s house. We’ve never walked down that way in the 10 years that we’ve lived here.
I spoke with our vet about all of this and she said, unfortunately, it was only going to get worse.
I Can Beat Myself Up Better Than You Can
These are the “selfish reasons” that run through my head. The ones that I beat myself up for and that literally make me want to throw up.
I don’t want to wait until he doesn’t recognize us anymore.
With how rapidly his mental capacity has declined in the last 6 weeks, I’m not so sure that’s not tomorrow or next week.
I wouldn’t be able to stand it if one day I walked up to him and he didn’t know who I was. Or worse. Was afraid of me.
His relentless barking and pacing we couldn’t seem to do anything about, the almost 6 months of waking me up before 5 am more than once (it’s progressively gotten worse), and the daily pooping on the carpet at least once, frustrates me.
There, I said it! Sometimes I get mad at him.
I admit I’ve even yelled at him. My heart is broken after because I know he doesn’t deserve it.
He’s not doing what he’s doing because he’s “bad” or to make me mad. He’s slowly losing his mind and he can’t help it.
But I’m at the end of my rope.
This journey with my old man has helped me find patience and compassion I didn’t know I had. After each breakdown, I picked myself up again with a new plan.
We changed the way we did things. We tried new things. I stretched.
But I’ve stretched as far as I can go. I’m starting to go backwards. My compassion and patience is waning.
I don’t want to wait until the rope breaks and I’m frustrated when we choose to let him go.
Which brings me to the other thing. Gretel has been acting different for the last few months.
Photo Credit: Brooke Mallory Photography
When Your Other Dog Starts to Become Someone Else
I love Chester to the moon and back but Gretel is my everything.
We’re like two peas in pod. Her happiest place is with her Mama. But not so much lately.
She’s been distant. She’s spent more time laying in her bed across the room than in my lap. She doesn’t seem as in-tune with me as she usually is.
At first I blamed myself. I had to be the only cause behind this behavior change.
She’s a sensitive soul so me getting frustrated at Chester, and always being sad or on edge at least a bit, has to be the reason she’s acting different.
But these last 6 weeks, during Chester’s decline, I’m seeing that maybe it’s not all me.
She was never close with Chester but they peacefully coexisted.
She has growled at him several times for trying to get on the couch when she’s up there or into the dog bed next to the one she’s laying in.
I know that can be a sign that she knows something is wrong with him. That could be why she is acting different too.
All of what is happening – whatever that exactly is – is affecting her.
She’s starting to become a different dog than what I know and the only thing that has changed is what we’re going through with Chester.
This Isn’t My First Rodeo
One of my friends, who is going through a very similar thing with her own Dachshund, said “This is it. We’re in hospice care now.”
Another thing I have been struggling with is the balance between all of the medical technology that’s available out there for me to “help him” and letting him to with dignity.
I’ve been “fortunate” enough to have gone through this grief-filled, emotional bucking-bronco many times in my life though.
I watched one Uncle die of AIDS when I was 12. My paternal Grandpa died not long after that. My Mom was terminally ill with an autoimmune disease all my life and ultimately died of MS when I was 21. Another Uncle died of Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease (essentially, mad cow disease for humans) around 10 years ago. My paternal Grandma died of cancer around a year or so after that. My maternal Grandma suddenly died 6 years ago of a heart attack. My maternal Grandpa had Alzheimer’s and passed just over a year ago.
And that’s just the close family members I’ve lost.
As my Step-Mom put it, “[I know] it feels like grief is always around the corner for you” sweetie.
I can do this. If there is one thing I know how to do, it’s grief and loss.
Well, kind of. This is my first experience going through it with a non human family member as an adult.
End of Life Care
My family is practical when it comes to matters of death. We care and feel deeply but we also know that death is inevitable.
All of my family chose some combination of no or minimal treatment to prolong life.
I had an epiphany the other day. I was beating myself up for not doing absolutely everything I could to prolong Chester’s life. But my family never chose that. And he’s just as much family as they were.
The difference is that I have to make that decision for him. He can’t tell me what he wants. But I can guess, because he is a part of this family, that he would want the same.
In each case of family death I’ve experienced, it was excruciating watching them decline knowing that the end was inevitable.
Sadly, most of them were around “too late” – past the point that they would have wanted to stay and suffering past the point we wished they had left us at.
Although it’s a source of great guilt, I have that choice with Chester.
He’s declined to a point where he’s just existing. I don’t want to wait until we’re just helping him barely hang on.
I wantto let him go before we were unable to celebrate his final days with gourmet strawberry ice cream topped with bacon because he wouldn’t eat.
Before all we have left is bad days.
Before any glimmer of light goes out in his eyes.
Before we don’t have any good times left together.
Before his perpetually-waggy tail is still.
Let this be the best, last, most selfless thing I do for him. And let me find peace in that.
All of the kind words from friends, family, and fans are giving me the strength to do it. Because I want to run. And barf somewhere.
Goodbye. Love you Bubby, Tiny-C, The Chester, Old Man, Little Spoon.
Julie says
You have so accurately described what I just went through with my Bailey dog. A Black and Tan dachshund who I’ve had for 17 yrs. He did stop barking at all and he stopped eating though. But he roamed the house at night unless I gave him Xanax and rimadyl. He didn’t know which side of the door to go out. His hind legs didn’t work sometimes and his head occasionally shook as if he had Parkinson’s. I asked God for a definate sign to put him down because I didn’t want to just do it for my convenience. I soon was given that sign. His kidneys failed and I knew I had to do it. But I understand all of your pain and grief! I miss that little guy who loved me sooo much! Peace and comfort to you!
Jessica Rhae says
Thanks for sharing your experience. All except for the kidneys failing sounds just like Chester. I’m sorry for your loss.
JUDI DAVIS says
I can totally relate to you as I had to do the same thing May 2nd when my dachshund Toby had multiple seizures and the vet told me possible brain tumor or cancer. It was the hardest thing I’ve had to do. He was almost 16 and I loved him so much and still do. The loss continues but reading all these stories sure help. Sorry for your loss and may they all run in the fields until we see them again.
Jessica Rhae says
I’m sorry for your loss Judi.
Holly says
I’ve said several rimes Tootsie is my first dog. She will be two in a couple weeks. She is burrowed asleep between my legs as I type this and wipe tears sliding down the sides of my cheeks. Mother’s Day just passed. I celebrated how much I love my Tootsie and what a sweet girl she is loving me back. She has licked my tears away many times until her job is done and I am giggling at her jumping all over me to pick my spirit back up. I get to experience the joy and pride and unconditional love of being a, “Mom” because I made the decision to have Tootsie in my life. My point is this. You have been and are and will always be a *selfless* Mother. Chester’s spirit is everywhere around you and I wholeheartedly believe he will find you and let you know he thanka you. You are brave and purposeful and full of love only a mother could know. I am squeezing and hugging you from afar….I see no monsters here. Pour out all the love, grief, memories, blessings and relief you need to and let Gretel heal your wounds. Love, Holly & Tootsie Joy
Jessica Rhae says
You are very thoughtful. It’s true that I was a fierce Mom to Chester. I pulled on that strength of love to make what I thought was the best decision for him. I try not to beat myself up too much but whether I did things right or wrong, it was done with wanting the best for him and loving him until I said goodbye.
Diane says
Don’t beat yourself up over it. He knows you loved him very much. You were there when he needed you the most, that speaks volumes .
Lisa says
Tears tears and more tears. I’m so sorry for your pain. I know it all too well.
Jessica Rhae says
Thanks Lisa. It’s a big mess of heartache because I miss him but overwhelming love because I had the strength to be selfless for him.
Susan C Bodiker says
We’ve “talked” on Fb many times, but I want to add this: You were not a monster or selfish or impatient…You did a “mitzvah” (a good deed) by helping him cross the Rainbow Bridge while he still knew who you were and could feel your love. Please don’t beat yourself up. In time, you will remember only the good things and the past few months of pain will fade. I promise you. And be kind to yourself in your grief.
Jessica Rhae says
Thank you. Any frustration we felt has already faded to happy memories. We’re glad we have that to hold onto. He was such a special dog.
Connie Bishop says
Jess, sometimes the best decision is the hardest. Chester knows that you loved him to the moon and back and that you had to decide what was best for him. You wouldn’t want to see him listless, no sparkle in his eyes and not knowing you. He crossed over the rainbow being loved and loving back. He will always be a part of you and Doggie Daddy and all of his fans.
Watching a human family member go through dementia is so very hard. My dad passed 2 years ago after a 16 year bout of Alzheimer’s. I wouldn’t wish that disease on my worst enemy.
Doggy dementia is even worse but at least we as fur baby mommas can do something about it to make their discomfort easier and to ease our pain. It’s not selfishness, it’s compassion.
You’ll always be in my thoughts and my prayers.
Gretel may exhibit some grieving herself even though she wasn’t a Chester fan. Watch for signs.
Love to you all.
Jack and Hank’s momma
Jessica Rhae says
Thanks Connie. I do try to hold on to the fact that I made the choice out of compassion. It’s just hard when my heart aches and I miss him so. Perhaps blaming myself is a way of dealing with the feelings of not wanting to let him go.
I’m definitely keeping an eye on Gretel. If nothing else, she’ll still pick up on my sadness. And things are so quiet around here. Too quiet. She may respond to the fact that there is no “busy body” pacing around the house.
Lenita (Daisy and Murphy’s mom) says
My heart breaks for you as the mom of two 12 year old mini dachshunds. I’m so sorry for all that you’ve gone through and the loss of sweet Chester. Sending a hug and prayers of comfort to you.
Jessica Rhae says
Hopefully you still have many wonderful years ahead. Chester was sharp and still going strong at 12!
Lenita Richardson says
<3
Kinkela says
It’s never easy to say goodbye to a beloved dog. I think it’s even harder than with human family. Dogs have such precious souls. You did the very best you could for him as long as you could. He passed as happily and easily as anyone could ever hope for in the same situation. There’s only love to feel there and no sign of a monster. I’m so sorry for your loss.
Jessica Rhae says
Thank you. He will be dearly missed.
Gayla Reinkens says
God bless and keep you. This is the compassionate loving thing you’ve done. You’re in my thoughts and prayers.
Jessica Rhae says
Thank you
Jessica Rhae says
Thank you Gayla
Donna says
It took me forever to get through your post, I cried so much! I’m so sorry for your loss and pain! I have followed you guys and all your adventures on IG, and am so heartbroken for you! don’t doubt your decision! It is the most difficult decision to make and you clearly didn’t make it easily! You did right by Chester, as difficult as it was! Take solace knowing you have him an amazing long life filled with love and adventure! ❤️ My deeoest condolences !
Jessica Rhae says
Thank you. And I love that you followed Chester on Instagram. It’s shows how many happy adventures he got to go on.
Beth says
Sending you love and healing thoughts. I know it has been a tough journey and no one should fault you for doing what you think is best for Chester and your family.
Jessica Rhae says
Thank you
Patricia G. Mcsharry says
Jessica
I know how your feeling right now. Dimension is a horrible disease that can strikes any mammals. Dimension is not only strike the mind it also causes great discomfort joint pain and muscle pain slow breathing controlling your bowels. So you did the very best thing for your boy he is now free of pain his mind is sharp as a young pup and he’s looking over all of you with loving eyes. Our thoughts are with you during this difficult time
Jessica Rhae says
Yeah, Chester’s mind wasn’t the only deciding factor. There were little things that made his life uncomfortable too. But those would have been manageable without the dementia.
Shelly Koonce says
Every word you wrote was exactly what I went through with my 15 1\2 year old Jack\Rat LittleMan. I’ve had to make these decisions before but there was always a deciding factor. In pain, stopped eating…. I was feeling the selfish frustration of changing diapers contantly, feeling guilty about his constant pacing and what was I not doing to help him. That I owed him the sacrifice of being sleep deprived because of all the awesome years he had given me. You made the right decision. Feel the pain and relief of releasing him. My thoughts are with you
Jessica Rhae says
“That I owed him the sacrifice of being sleep deprived because of all the awesome years he had given me. ”
That’s exactly how it feels. That we owe it to them to make sacrifices to ourselves for them. And, to a certain extent I think we do. However, once you start going down that road, I think it’s easy to get suck in that thought pattern and forget to take a realistic look at where things are at (and are going). Of course, we do it because our fear of losing them too.
I’m sorry for your loss of LittleMan
Cheryl says
I’m so sorry for your loss. It is a tough decision to make and you did everything you could to help him. I have 3 of my own and 1 of them is going through chemotherapy right now. She’s only 6 1/2 so still has a few more years. She is doing very well now. I know we will have to make that decision too if she starts to go down hill. We dont want her to suffer either.
RIP beautiful boy Chester. You will be missed.
Jessica Rhae says
Age definitely plays into the whole equation too. If Chester had been 8, or even 10, or it has been Gretel (she’s 8), different choices might have been made. I could take comfort knowing he lived a long, happy, quality life with me. 15 is the average age for a Dachshund. At 8 or 10, I would have felt like he still had so much life ahead.
Chirpy Cats says
OH, my! So sorry for your loss! It’s so difficult making that decision for them but he knows he was loved dearly. Sending healing purrs to you and Gretel.
Denise Beard says
Oh my gosh, tears were in my eyes reading this. Making the decision is so hard, hard to not be selfish & keep them with us longer than they want to be here, because we can’t let go, but knowing in our hearts that it is the final act of love, to let them go before it’s too late. I’ve have to make this decision more than a few times, not for the same reasons, but it is the most painful decision to make. I hope that you take comfort in knowing that you acted out of love & compassion & in some level even with his severe decline in cognitive abilities, he knew it & was grateful. I know that it doesn’t take away the pain, only time does that, but you can take comfort in knowing that you did what was best & gave him 16 years of a wonderful life.
Jessica Rhae says
I definitely have a lot of good memories to hold on to and know that I gave him a really good life.
Kim Womack says
Oh my…. Jessica! I’m right at the cross roads right now with my girl, Binks. She is 15 and also has dementia. Until I read your post I wasn’t really sure about the actual state she is in. She doesn’t do the barking, in fact she never barks at all. 6 months ago she would sit on my bed and bark non stop while I was in the shower. She knew I was probably headed out for the day and that was always her way of letting me know she was NOT happy about it. I would love to hear that bossy bark again. She isn’t waking me up to feed her. or she hasn’t yet. She easily sleeps at least 20 hours a day. But, when awake, she constantly, constantly begs for treats. So much so that I keep some in my bedside table so that I’m not getting as upset with her because she will beg and cry if I don’t give her something. She lost her hearing a year ago but quickly learned that when I pointed my finger at her, it was time to give up. Now, she just doesn’t understand when to stop. At some point, if I ignore her long enough, she will lay down and go to sleep. She does pace the floor at night. I can hear her little toe nails on the wood floor at different times. She misses her pee pads by at least a foot 75% of the time, and as you know, cleaning up gets tiring. She used a pet door (to a fenced yard) until about 2 years ago when she lost interest in going outside. I see so many of the things you have described, but watching her wag her tail some at her dinner time, or running down the hall at bedtime has kept me wondering if maybe things aren’t as bad as I thought. Now I realize those are food driven responses- her bedside treats. She goes to the wrong side of the door most of the time now. I’ve always had ramps in two places at my house because she is such an independent little thing, she hates being picked up to the couch or bed, always has, still does. I’ve noticed she misjudges the ramps often and has fallen quite a few times. Thankfully from the shortest part of the smaller ramp. I suppose the thing that hurts me the most is that she never makes eye contact with me at all. So, now I know I’m left with the dreaded thought of having to let her go- soon. She is my baby…my child. I had to do this 5 years ago with my other girl Nikki. She had chushings disease. It was awful. Your post was a God send for me because I’ve been so conflicted about what to do. The vet tried her on Composure Pro with no luck. She is now on Prozac, but it hasn’t changed her anxiety level at all. I know that you must be grieving, but your at peace knowing you did the right thing for little Chester. I want to do the same for my little Binks..it’s just choosing the day….I’m including my email address, but I rarely check it. I’m easily reached on facebook.
Jessica Rhae says
I’m happy to hear that reading my words helped you. All of the things you are going through with Binks are terribly upsetting. Everyone kept telling me “you’ll know when the right time is. They’ll just tell you.” but I don’t feel that is true with Dementia. It changes their thought process in such hard-to-understand ways. There were still good moments with Chester, or at least not so bad ones, when we were at the beach or at the park. I realized that there would always be a glimmer of hope here and there until there wasn’t any at all. Personally, I felt like “everything is gone now” was too long to wait. And “hope” is the wrong word for it anyway because hoping for what? As my vet said, his dementia was not going to get better.
I know how excruciating this all is for you. You’ll make the right choices for you guys because there isn’t any wrong “answer”. It’s just is what it is – a terrible choice to have to make at any time. My thoughts are with you.
Chris from Boise says
Oh, Jessica – what a hard time you’ve been through. Thank you for sharing your honest feelings with us; it helps the rest of us who have declining dogs. One huge help for us has been Eileen Anderson’s website: https://dogdementia.com/ – Dog Dementia Help and Support. It has a lot of information in one place. She has also written a book called “Remember Me? Loving and Caring For A Dog with Canine Cognitive Dysfunction”. It has a very helpful chapter on making the final decision. Highly recommended.
Big hugs from Boise, and our deepest sympathies as you wander between grief and relief at Chester’s passing.
Jessica Rhae says
Thanks. I’m familiar with that website and have found the educational information about dog dementia very helpful.
Patti Ann Palmieri says
Extremely hearfelt ….Beautifully expressed. Amazing how many folks aren’t really paying attention to their dogs personality changes and when they show signs of any pain or health problem. My 58 year old brother in law is dying of a brain disease and pretty much is showing signs as well. Caretaking is exhausting!!! Worrying is exhausting!!! My sister and I honestly bring up this subject about them going to sleep and having the doctor help us with that to put an end to this madness. If we had that choice with people like we do with our pets….Here anyway…..It is on our minds constantly. Bless your heart and thank you for being so brave. God Bless Chester. He will be missed and I pray that Gretel comes around and gets cuddly again Jessica. OOOXXX Patti Ann Maggie MAe And Ginger Rose
Jessica Rhae says
Thanks again for your kind words and support. I’m sorry about your brother in law. That is a difficult and heartbreaking thing to have to deal with. Part of what makes me feel so guilty about letting Chester go is that I have family members who would have wished for that yet it’s not (at least wasn’t at the time and is still extremely difficult) we can do for them. We can give our pets death with dignity but not our human loved ones if the wish? That’s messed up to me.
Barbara Naecker says
Jessica, I read your Facebook article about losing your beloved Chester to dementia and felt the pain and the ache in your heart. We just had our sweet little dachshund, Greta put to sleep yesterday and I’m grieving over making this decision. She would have been 15 yrs. old in September but dementia denied her that.
A few months ago, I noticed Greta slowing down, not wanting to fetch or run and play with our other dachshund, Hans. However, over the months she would get up at night and wander around the house and then sleep most of the day. There were other unusual behaviors that prompted me to read up on dementia and with the exception of barking which she never did anymore, she experienced all of the other behaviors listed – walking behind doors and staring, walking under and behind furniture and staring, wondering aimlessly throughout the house or in the yard and then just stopping to stare into nothingness.
After reading more about dementia, I ached in grief realizing how much my little Greta must have suffered being trapped in a shell of her former self, fearful and confused as to who she was or where she was. She would flinch when I touched her to pet her or pick her up and I’m sure now, that this was a response of fear because she didn’t know who I was but only that something or someone was touching her. I remember seeing all of these behaviors getting progressively worse over time but never realized what was going on inside of her mind like being fearful not having a life, but only existing. At first, I attributed her behavior to losing her sight and hearing but after reading more about dementia in dogs, I learned how debilitating it was. What I saw in Greta wasn’t just old age, but a mind deteriorating attack on her very being.
What I read made me see Greta’s existence through her eyes and it breaks my heart that I couldn’t do anything to help her. When a pet is ill, at least they can understand our giving them comfort in the final days of their existence and they can feel the love in the care that we give them. They “know” and recognize our love. It doesn’t make losing them any easier but at least they know at you were there in their final moments.
In Greta’s case, I don’t think that she knew me anymore and that she was hopelessly trapped in some fog of an existence. Her days and nights were mixed up, she was disoriented and she lost all interest in everything but food, but even that was gone in the end. I realized that this must have been a terrifying experience for her and life as she knew it was gone forever. I think my grief is not just for losing her but also for the frustration that I couldn’t do anything to ease this horrible existence while she was going through it. No amount of loving touches or soothing words could have eased this dark chasm that she slipped into. I know that she’s at peace now but I still remember seeing her in what must have been a nightmarish existence for her. I never realized how debilitating dementia in dogs could be. The technical term is, canine cognitive dysfunction. (CCD) but they also call it “dog dementia.” Her quality of life was gradually taken away from her and the end result was that she felt lost and fearful. How I wish with all of my heart that I could have done something about this!!! I am so wrought with frustration!!!
My research into dementia opened my eyes a little more as to the mental and emotional toll that this disease takes on our precious fur kids and the fact that we can’t do anything to stop its progression or prevent it all together. It helps my heart a little to share what was happening with Greta and why we made the decision to end her suffering. It started out as what we thought was senility (difficulty in hearing and seeing) but ended up to be totally physically debilitating.
I’m still working my way through losing her and also facing the fact that in many ways, I lost her a long time ago. I’m still so saddened that I couldn’t do anything to help her. The frustration that I’m feeling is the realization that this was something that was totally out of my control. I hope that God will take some of this pain from my heart and help me to appreciate the happy times that we shared. I want to remember the joy and not the sorrow. I think about the joyful times that we had and miss them terribly wishing that we could relive those precious moments. Her presence is forever in my memory and in my heart. I’ve reached out to family and friends who have also had to make this decision and they have been very supportive and understanding. However, that doesn’t alleviate the pain in my heart and the lump in my throat choking back my tears. I know that my decision was in Greta’s best interest but my emotions are tearing me apart at losing her this way. After reading about the pain in your heart and your sweet Chester’s experience with dementia, I needed to reach out to you and tell you that I understand what you’re going through. You’re in my thoughts and prayers.
Barbara Naecker
Jessica Rhae says
Hi Barbara. I received your email and responded there. Thank you for sharing your story with me.
Beth says
I’m so sorry; this was a sad, but beautiful post. Our pets are so dear to us and we suffer with them. Letting go is never easy and it is always a different situation that we have to cope with. Peaceful thoughts to you.
Lindsay says
Jessica, there really are no right words. I just want you to know how sorry I am and that I’ve been thinking of you.
Bonnie says
I had to do the same thing with my Dexter on January 12, 2015, when he was 14, and I felt like the worst Mom ever. He was eating and drinking but his outgo was nothing. I knew his kidneys had shut or were shutting down. What was wrong with him could have been prevented when he was a pup and I didn’t know anything about dachshund teeth until he was 11 years old. I beat myself up as to why didn’t I research the problem more, taken him to one more vet, recognize what was happening. When he was a pup one of his adult teeth grew outward because his baby tooth wouldn’t release. Since he had a testicle that didn’t drop, and had to have surgery, the vet took care of removing the baby tooth as well. Throughout his life he would be fine then run 106 fever in the snap of a finger. After many vet visits and nothing be found, I listened to the Vets’ advise and took care of him when he got sick but didn’t worry too much about it. What I didn’t know till years later when he’d sneezed blood over my deck was how very sick he was. I rushed him to a new vet because mine was out of town. He told me I needed to rush him to Mizzou Vet Teaching Hospital so I did. Long story short, when the vet removed his baby tooth and aligned his adult tooth in place he did not bust the enamel sack the adult tooth should have taken care of. It was discovered that his enamel sack became a bag of infection which eventually burst spreading infection in his sinuses, which, in turn, caused a hole between his nose and sinus cavity, a hole in his upper lip, and his canine fissures were pretty much non-existent. I decided to have surgery done to repair the issues along with multiple antibiotics to help clear the infection up. In the end, he had to have 6 dental surgeries and in the middle of this they discovered his dental issues had affected his heart. He put up a good fight but in the end it also affected his kidneys. Dexter was my first dachshund and I learned a lot. When my little girl was a pup and had the same tooth problem I made sure she went to a dentist to have her problem fixed and made sure the enamel sack was taken care of as well. I no longer beat myself up but sometimes cry for him because he was my first and my sweet baby boy.
Lisa says
I am so so sorry for your loss! I definitely know what you are going through right now…and just that you know, your are not a monster! You did what was best for Chester. Strangely enough, your post reminded me of my grandma, who had dementia as well. My mother took care for her, but at some point she couldn’t manage work, family and care any more and decided to put her in a nursing home.. She felt the same guilt feelings like you do right now, but in the end it was the best decision for both of them. I am sure you will feel the same some day. Lots of love to you!
Amanda says
I felt like I could have written this about my dog Winnie. She had pretty much all of the same things but had heart disease on top of the dementia. After weeks and weeks of sleepless nights and her getting stuck in corners or behind doors, or not being as excited to see me, and me getting angry at her for what she couldn’t control – I took her to my vet and we talked about everything. She said that Winnie (or little bug as she called her) was there but not really there and not that I needed her blessing to make the decision, but she thought it was best for both of us.
There were days she seemed like my old Winnie and other days when she struggled. In the end it was the right decision for her. It helped a little bit knowing when it was going to happen. It’s been over five years since I made that decision and I still miss her terribly. I have two boys, one is 15 and the other 11. I’m hopeful that similar decisions will be years off for them.
And when you’re ready – I’d suggest reading “Lily and The Octopus” by Stephen Rowley. It’s his story of losing his dachshund Lily. I’ve never cried so hard when reading a book before but it really helped. I’m sure with time you guys will find a new normal and feel more comfortable about your decision. Thank you for sharing your adventures about him (and of course Gretel) with all of us.
Emma says
I’m so sorry about your little one. We have never had a dog with dementia, but other maladies create similar feelings. It’s heartbreaking and you don’t want to make the decision. We prayed Katie would just go to sleep and not wake up, but it didn’t happen. Chester will love you forever, and you will never forget him.
carmen says
My heart goes out to you, I am so sorry about Chester. But you did all you could do for him. He couldn’t have had a better home.
Dee says
Oh I’m so sorry….you’re never ready, even when you really think you are and know that they are. We went thru this and understand the need to just cry and throw up. And then you hug your other pets and cherish each moment together. Xxoo
Monika & Sam 🐾 says
I am so very sorry for your loss. My first OES had dog dementia and it was heartbreaking, especially at the end. Rescued from the Dumb Friends League in Denver, he lived with me until he was probably 13 years old. He had a good live and while he was a pill of a dog, I loved him to pieces. Who doesn’t love a wool sweater with feet? When he eventually went deaf, it was a blessing because the incessant barking stopped. He shuffled into dementia and when he kept walking into a corner and unable to get out, I knew it was time. Not long after, my female OES also a rescue, began to fail. Mind like a steel trap, her vessel of a body began to deteriorate. I knew she was hurting but her heart was still in the game which made the decision to let her go all the more difficult again and at the end, she fought it all the way to her last breath. As I recall that evening when the vet came to the house to do ‘it’ like it was yesterday despite it being 7 years ago, tears are filling my eyes and heart. I know what you’ve been through. Trying everything you possibly could to make a good life for 4 paws that managed to steal a large spot in your heart makes the ultimate ending heartbreaking. Letting go was the final gift you gave your Chester. He lived a beautiful life with excellent care. Now is the time to honor him, recall the wonderful memories and let them provide you with peace as you comfort your sweet Gretel. Rest in peace dear Chester. Hugs and tails wags.
Stacy Westly says
Oh Jessica … my heart is with you. My sweet Kenji was my love and companion for 18 years. For ten of those, he was a diabetic. Yes, I gave him shots twice a day. Yes, I planned my life around his needs. Yes, I took really great care of him. But at the end, he let me know it was time. He had started uncontrollably shaking and collapsing when walking. The light went out of his eyes. He went limp and listless. I knew. He knew. He really wasn’t there anymore. My vet agreed that it was time. I held Kenji in my arms while they administered the drugs. There was a brief moment of the old Kenji in his eyes as I cried and kissed his face, singing his special theme song and telling him he was the best damn kitty to ever live. I believe, in my heart of hearts, that he was thanking me … for understanding, for loving him, for taking care of him, for being his mama. It was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. Cancer (mine) wasn’t that hard in comparison. I cried for weeks. But, one night, I looked up in the sky, at a big, juicy full moon, and I saw my boy. So, now, every full moon, I talk to Kenji and tell him I still love him. Sappy? Yep. And I am okay with that. Find your peace, Jessica … Chester knew you loved him. You did the right thing.
Susan Lacey says
Like the others above, I also shed tears today when learning of your loss of Chester. I am seeing many of the same traits in my 18 yr old Oscar as the ones you described. It will be hard to say goodbye but I will remember your bravery and compassion. I’m glad you had final quiet moments with Chester and a “heart to heart” talk and I thank you for your truthfulness and candor in describing the mixture of emotions you have felt. May Chester rest in peace after a life well lived and well cared for. May your pain diminish soon. While Gretel may not be as cuddly as she used to be (Oscar also pulls away from me, especially during the hot summer months!), I am sure she knows you “have her back” and are there for her.
Marnie and “Tuff” says
So very sorry for your loss and what you are going through. Thank you for leading the way and sharing your life, love, and adventures with all of us. As difficult as this was for you, you gave him dignity and showed him love and compassion. His was a life well lived and much loved. Gretel is grieving right now too…it’s got to be hard but hang in there! Before you know it you will have your cuddle bug back ❤️
Leigh says
I’m so sorry to read about Chester…reading this brings tears to my eyes and breaks my heart because it brings back memories of my last weeks with my minpin. He also had dementia, which was short-lived due to a lung condition (never went down a long testing/treatment route as he was already 15) but I remember getting ready to go outside one morning and he just peed in the living room – he had no idea where he was. I got so mad, and after yelling at him, just sat on the floor sobbing because I knew he couldn’t help it.
I hope Gretel is doing ok now and adjusting to the new dynamic.
Hugs!