When you adopt a pet, the joy that they bring to your life is immeasurable. As they start to get older, you start to develop somewhat of a countdown of their life, almost like a ticking time bomb. You know the day will inevitably come when you have to say goodbye, but can never quite imagine what that would be like.
I think back during the last 17 years of my life and I can say that Harley has brought me a tremendous amount of happiness. I think of places I’ve traveled, the many homes I’ve lived in, and the friends that have come and gone. Throughout all of those life experiences, she was the one constant. There isn’t just one stand out moment from her through those years, but many little moments.
The day I first adopted her, I had no idea what I was doing. I had no plans whatsoever to even bring an animal into my life. I was in my early 20’s and living with roommates. I didn’t even bother to get approval from the landlord to adopt her! It was completely spur of the moment and love at first sight. I saw her in a kennel filled with other crying kittens, sitting in the back with her paws tucked under her and taking it all in. Right away, I knew she was meant for me.
The rest of my time with her was a blur. I remember constant vet appointments because she always had allergies and sores. I nicknamed her ‘Boo Boo’ for that reason. I never worried about her when I traveled because I knew she was healthy and well taken care of. Towards my last few years with her, my anxiety about her grew. I remember being in Portugal and France a few years ago and was so worried about her, that I couldn’t fully enjoy myself. Earlier this year, we had to be away from home all day and when I couldn’t find her on the petcube for hours, I almost threw up from anxiety. Looking back, this was the ticking time bomb that I knew would happen one day.
For the past six months, I believe that I’ve been in denial with the state of her health. It wasn’t until I realized how skinny she got that I knew it was time to take her to the vet. She was diagnosed with hyperthyroidism, and I was so happy she was finally gaining weight after being on medication for a few weeks. Of course, her diagnosis led to the discovery of severe teeth problems, which led to five extractions. Another hurdle passed, and we got through it. I thought we were finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.
My denial hit again when I didn’t want to admit that she was gradually changing, especially in her last few weeks of life. As I think back to the past two to three weeks, I noticed that she growled more, didn’t want to snuggle at all, and generally slept a lot. She was never quite able to close her right eye fully when asleep. Again, I chose not to notice it. I thought that since she was eating fine, gaining weight, and drinking water, she was still healthy. At a follow up vet appointment, the doctor said that her cheek was still puffy and there was pressure behind her right eye. I agreed to have a biopsy done on her extracted tooth for cancer.
Just a few days after that appointment, I woke up and saw blood on the side of her mouth. Again, my denial hit and I was calm as I wiped it away and went about giving her thyroid medication. The worry was gnawing in the back of my mind as she laid in the guest bed as I worked at my desk. I kept praying to God for a sign; to let me know when to put her down. I believe that God answered my prayer because just an hour later, I saw even more blood on her mouth, to the point that there was a puddle stained on the guest bedding. I was able to schedule her for an appointment within the next few hours.
As the time crept to her appointment, again, denial hit me. I put her in the carrier and drove her to the vet as she sat in my sister’s lap. I wasn’t crying or panicking. After the doctor examined her and gave me the news that her situation was untreatable, it finally hit me. I was able to have as much time as I needed to say good-bye to her, and then that was it. It all happened so fast, and kind of in a blur. Walking out of the vet’s office with an empty carrier was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
What nobody tells you about losing your best friend is that the hardest part is not seeing them in their usual spot and not doing their normal routines. I’ve been living in a fog of sadness the past few days. Sometimes I wake up, and I expect to see her there. Other times, I will cry uncontrollably. I just feel SAD. I know that one day I will get through this, but right now, the pain is so unbearable. I find myself frequently looking at old pictures and videos of her. I try to keep myself busy by cleaning up a little bit, but once I sit down, I’m reminded all over again and replay her death over and over in my mind.
I know God will get me through this and that it will just take time. I’m grateful to be moving soon and getting a fresh start somewhere new, with no reminder of her. I will love her forever and hope that one day, I will see her again in Heaven.
