Dogs

How Do You Prepare for Goodbye?

ashley glass blog

In January our 12 year old Golden Retriever Elsa, went in for an ultrasound. Her numbers were funky in a recent blood draw and something was just off. Lo and behold, the doctors found a large mass inside of her liver…and my heart sank. I felt somewhat hopeful though, as we discussed ‘plans’ and she was put on a liver medication. Her spirits actually seemed to improve, and every day the past couple of months when I’ve came home, she has hopped up wagging her tail and bringing me a toy… We actually began to think that maybe the mass was benign, and we would find out that she was okay!

The past few weeks though, I began to notice how hard it was for her to get up from a laying position, or when using the bathroom outside… and then she even began to collapse and fall all the way down. It was getting hard, and I didn’t understand why. This past Sunday the weather finally turned nice, I’m talking 60 degrees with sunshine nice, and we all wanted to go for a hike. I was hesitant to bring her…she just seemed a little off to me and pretty weak. I knew she had an ultrasound recheck the next day (Monday, March 2nd) so that brought me some peace of mind; and when she hopped up from our bedroom floor and came to the laundry room (where her leash is) I could tell she wanted to go. She has always known when we are leaving and I am certain she even knows when we are leaving to do things that SHE may be allowed to do too. I smiled and her and said, “Okay, Elsa, let’s go for a hike.”

We arrived at Creasy Mahan Nature Preserve in Goshen, KY (20 minutes away) and boy was it beautiful. Woods and open fields surrounded us, and Elsa had SUCH a pep in her step upon leaving the car. She trotted down the flat trails, and even got super excited about a giant stick. When she spotted some water, that was game on for her, so I let her wade slowly in and sure enough, she happily laid down, as she always has in open bodies of water, looking so so happy and in her element.

We did a casual mile loop, nothing too strenuous or high impact, but I knew as the night went on that something was drastically wrong with Elsa. She slept for a good long while, which was to be expected, but whenever it was time for her to get up and go outside to potty…she just couldn’t do it. In a tizzy I texted my mom, as I always do when I need help or prayer.. and she prayed me through the night. When 6 o’clock this morning came around, she hadn’t budged from where she started her night’s sleep. I tried to get her up to go outside and she collapsed. I managed to somehow get her to the back deck, (in the pouring rain) and she collapsed again. This time, with her head hung low and panting profusely. I ran inside to wake Asa and my poor husband came sprinting out in his boxer shorts (in the pouring rain!) to carry her to the grass….

The vet appointment this afternoon came and went… Before going I texted Dr. Thompson a video of her on our bedroom floor with the words, “This isn’t good, Matt…” “She looks tired,” he replied. “Yes..she is,” I said. My husband and the kids were there with me at the appointment and we waited quietly for the doctor doing the ultrasound to tell us what she saw. Sure enough, her cancer has spread—spleen, lymph nodes, more in the liver, and most likely to the chest and lungs. Her breathing is so labored and she has quite a bit of fluid in her stomach/abdomen. She went from 0-100 health wise in less than 24 hours and I just cannot believe it.

It happened so fast.

My family, Elsa and I went into a room and tears streamed down my face as I listened to our vet. I knew before we got there that this was going to be “it” for her. I could see it in her eyes, succumbing to the cancer, to the fatigue we never even knew she had (that perhaps she also didn’t realize was there?) “24-48 hours max is what I would give this,” he quietly said. I of course had the option to say goodbye then and there, but he knew that’s not me. He told us his schedule and we agreed that we wanted him to come to the house Tuesday evening….for her to be at home, like her brother Humphrey was (almost exactly a year ago…..) When grief hits and I am supposed to mourn, I go into overdrive instead. I clean the house and focus on other things, almost like a machine not knowing how to program off. I know when he walks through our front door that I am going to lose it……………it will be then, that it hits me.

It’ll all come crashing down that I am losing MY best friend. The girl who has been by my side for twelve long (and too short) years. I chose her from a gigantic litter of Goldens and the whole way home, she rode on my lap in silence. She went everywhere with me… last minute trips to Michigan, 6 hours in the car, never making a peep. She’s been THE best trail dog, sprinting ahead and always coming back. She has swam in so many lakes, and rivers, and ponds…and that is how I will always remember her—skimming the water, gracefully, eloquently, so beautifully. She stayed by Humphrey’s side the entire time he was passing… she never budged, not even once; and she was never the cuddly type with him. She knew he was leaving her…and now I just pray she can feel us do the same (and that Emma will help HER.)

(Oh Lord, please help Emma. We’ve never had only ONE dog. She has felt our sadness today and our high emotions…I feel so bad for her and so thankful at the same time. She is our Healer, and I am praying she can remain strong during this incredibly difficult, almost impossible, time.)

I wish I had more of a positive post to write, but this is my reality. ‘Here we go again,’ is pretty much how I am feeling. It just doesn’t feel right that we lost our beloved Humphrey one year ago, and now we are losing his sister too. The only thing giving me an ounce of hope is the fact that I DO believe that all dogs DO go to Heaven, and that Humphrey will be the FIRST one greeting her at the gates. I am positive they will do warp mode together, running and sprinting and tumbling until they’re ready for a nap at our family’s future Heavenly home. I think it will have a large front porch, where Humphrey can sun bathe (his happy place) and there will be a crystal clear lake real close by for Elsa to swim in all day if she wants.

I may not feel ready, but Elsa girl I think you are. You have given us the MOST incredible and blessed twelve years with you…never once doing ANYTHING wrong. It is because of you that I will forever have a Golden Retriever, and I thank you for loving my second one… our Emma Rose. My how she loves and adores you too. Thank you for your patience, grace, gentle spirit, and love. All of these years…I have felt SO loved by YOU.

Update: Elsa passed on her own Tuesday morning March 3rd, some time between 6:30 and 7am. I had kissed her at 6:30 and noticed her breathing had slowed tremendously. I had a feeling it was time. Within a half hour, she was gone. I am thankful the Lord took her quietly and I didn’t have to make that decision for her. Our sweet, wonderful Elsa. I pray you felt how loved you are.

Below is a slideshow of recent pictures of our Elsa Girl…mostly from October through current. Thank you for being with us on this journey.