Yesterday was heartbreaking.
Today is surreal.
We had to say goodbye to our sweet Cody after 14 1/2 years of love, tail wags, occasional kisses and abundant joy.
He was ready and he let us know, which should make this bearable because he’s no longer suffering.
But the honest truth is, it’s not bearable.
Not at all.
Not even a teeny tiny bit.
I certainly knew this day was coming and could see his moments of enjoyment were fewer and further between. But when they came, they were just as if he was a puppy again, bounding around with his signature bouncy run, greeting whoever it was that managed to excite him enough to respond this way. If you were one of the lucky ones lately, it was a compliment because in between those spurts, he struggled to do much else without a lot of effort.
We gave him everything we could to ease the discomfort and allow his quality of life to persist as long as possible, including acupuncture.
Yes….you read that right – dog acupuncture.
NO ONE ELSE in our family has ever had acupuncture but Cody received care and treatment from the most amazing woman, Magda, and it made a tremendous difference in his life. I am eternally grateful for her guidance, expertise and support….she was an angel.
Despite all of that, when Cody woke up on Friday morning, I just knew something was wrong and it was different. My husband left for work and after just a few hours I knew in my heart it was time. I did my research (like I always do) and I didn’t hesitate to make the dreaded call as soon as my heart told me something was wrong because I wouldn’t have him suffer for a single moment…..he didn’t deserve to experience any discomfort.
Telling my family I made that appointment, especially with my daughter who just moved to the other side of the country, was one of the hardest things I have ever done.
Cody always managed to bounce back so the finality of it was (and still is) so hard to wrap my head around.
We had to wait 36 hours for his appointment and it was a grueling and heart wrenching 36 hours. He laid down for most of those hours and when he did need to get up, we had to help him up and down.
Gratefully there were no last minute bursts of energy to make us question our decision. It felt like leaving no doubt that his body was tired and he was ready was his last and most painful gift to us. He had given us each and every minute of his best life and he had no more to give.
We did the best we could to celebrate and honor the life we had with him during that time:
We made sure he was at home, tummy full of burger and Dutch Bros treats, surrounded by everyone who loves him, in person and virtually.
We found the kindest and most loving people to help him end the pain.
We carefully painted his paws to create a keepsake.
I cut curls from every part of his body and filled a ziplock bag, for what I don’t know. Maybe to touch him, maybe to smell him, but my need to keep his fur was almost compulsive.
We took photos and videos of all of us laying with him, talking to him, petting him and most importantly, we documented his last patrol of the backyard, which was his domain to protect and keep his pack safe from people, birds and whatever else might land there.
And then it was time…..the dog that was there for all of our moves, every one of our milestones and the entire chapter of our family life before it was time for our girls to fly was going to leave us.
My 22 year old daughter sobbing on FaceTime and my husband, my 19 year old daughter and I audibly sobbing throughout suffering with what my husband described the day before as “an actual physical lump in our throats”.
We cried as hard as we’ve ever cried and petted him, spoke to him, and loved him to the very end.
It was peaceful and his eyes told us he felt no pain.
But now I’m left with an endless abyss of pain in my heart. Now the selfish me has taken over and I cannot fathom his sweet furry face not walking around the corner.
I have been sleeping on the couch for months because he has been so anxious and wanted me nearby as it made him feel safe with his diminishing senses. Last night I could sleep in my bed and it was bittersweet. I hate that he isn’t here for me to soothe him, I hate that he isn’t here for me to let him in and out of the house since the doggy door became impassable for him. I hate that he isn’t here to follow me around, making me feel like the center of his world. I hate that he isn’t here to play tug-o-war with our 9 year old goldendoodle Kali, or chase the ball when we throw it and never bring it back. I hate that he will never shake his wet and stinky beard all over. I hate that I can’t scratch his tickle spot. I hate I can’t look into his big beautiful brown eyes with our shared knowing and understanding. I hate everything about letting him leave me.
But I loved EVERY DAY of my 14 1/2 years with him. He was my first dog and I loved him with a depth I didn’t know was possible; I am left forever changed by our connection and love.
So for all the devastation and pain I feel, I will cling to the thought that is holding me together by a thread….I love that he is no longer in pain. I imagine him jumping on walls, swimming in pools, chasing birds and running fast and free in doggie heaven and I pray for the day I get to be by his side again.
Thank you Cody Zachary for giving us the incredible honor of being your people….our family will be incomplete without your sweet, beautiful soul.
Magda Masicotte – Acupuncture Pets https://www.yelp.com/biz/acupuncture-for-pets-in-az-scottsdale?utm_source=ishare
In-Home Pet Euthanasia – Arizona https://www.angelvet.com