I’ve been debating for some time whether or not to write this blog post, purely because I don’t know if I am going to be able to get through it without breaking down and crying. A little background on how Honey came to be with me.
I got Honey when I was 15 years old, I am not going to go into how I got her or why, but just that I got her when I was 15. From the moment I held her in my arms, we became inseparable. She would come everywhere with me and I would often take her long walks, but mostly I just cuddled her and loved her more than life itself.
Fast forward to 2016, she was around 14 at this point and she started getting what I can only describe as bougies coming out of her nose. I took her to the vet who said it was fine, but while I was there I mentioned a lump she had and that she often sounded like she was choking. The lump was on her side and it was removed. It turned out to be benign, the wheezing and bougies (according to the vet) were just symptoms of old age.
By early 2017, she was struggling to get upstairs, get up on the bed and was almost completely deaf, she was also going blind. Around September – October time, I noticed her back legs were going and I knew the time was coming.
After a lot of soul-searching and spending as many moments as I could with her (which proved somewhat difficult because of the shitty company I worked for), I decided it was time to take her to the vet and get some advice. On 3rd November I made that trip with a good friend of mine (that I no longer speak to). I went in and I explained everything to the vet and she told me I was making the right decision by bringing her in.
They give me around 10 minutes to say my goodbyes, I was hysterically crying, by this point, she was drowsy as they give her a sedative so it would be as peaceful as possible. I kept apologising to her, telling her how sorry I was and that letting her go was the last thing I wanted, that I loved her and that she had saved me, she’d taught me how to love unconditionally and I’d miss her forever. I was already very low and my anxiety and depression were horrendous.
The vet had come back in and the process was started, Honey’s head was beside mine and all I could do was cry into her softness and apologise over and over and tell her how much I loved her. My friend said it was awful, I’m not a crier so this was probably the worst she’d ever seen me and I’ll be forever grateful to her for being there for me.
The process didn’t take very long, but I remained once Honey had passed and just scream cried for another 15 minutes. My best friend in the entire world was gone, the bundle of joy and the sweetest dog I’d ever known had gone, my fur daughter, my world, she was gone. Now, my reader’s know I suffer from PTSD so I wouldn’t grieve the way most people do, I’m not a crier as I said, so this was only the third time in my 30 years I’d cried over losing someone close to me, but I’d never been this hysterical.
I’d asked the vet to close Honey’s eyes, but she didn’t and Honey lay there, eyes glazed over and tongue out just staring at me. My heart shattered and I collapsed, again. I didn’t want to leave her, but there were other patients and my vet only had one appointment room (I know, what kind of vets only has one room?) The vet, to me, wasn’t comforting at all, in fact half way through Honey jerked as if she was having a seizure and the vet said without thinking, “Don’t worry that’s just the drugs working on stopping her heart, her organs will be shutting down’. Cheers, dickhead, I don’t remember asking for a fucking play-by-play.
My friend managed to get me together and we walked into the waiting room, which thankfully for me was pretty empty. Just a little boy, his dad and their dog, the man gave me a look of sympathy and the little boy turned to his dad and asked: “Daddy, why is the pretty girl crying?”
I could hear his dad explaining while I stood at the till waiting on the £250 bill I had to pay for losing my best friend. This is something I think is horrendous, why make someone pay after going through that ordeal? Why not give them a day or two then ring them and let them pay, or better still not charge at all. I made sure Honey was going to be returned to me, so they arranged her cremation, I’d no idea what dignity she had when I left her, like did they cover her with a sheet? Did they keep her safe? Might seem stupid to some people, but this dog was my child, she was my best friend, my heroine and she made me a better person.
We are now in July and it’s been 8 months since we lost her. I have her ashes in a box in my room beside a photo of her and her little brother, Tank. He suffered badly from separation anxiety and I was terrified he was going to pass away from a broken heart, but instead, he became very clingy. He would follow me everywhere, cry if I left him alone and he was just so agitated.
He’s getting better, but I do still wonder if he realises what happened, I don’t have any advice to give or can’t say time is a healer because that’s not true for me. I miss her every single day, I cry every time I really think of her or see her picture on my phone and computers. I wrote a journal entry about it and it was basically a letter to her, thanking her for saving me and for always knowing exactly what I needed, I still can’t read this journal entry and I don’t know if I ever will.
This a very real pain, don’t let anyone say different. Remember, life is precious so never forget to tell someone you love deeply how important they are, Tank gets a lot of love and plenty of kisses and cuddles from me and my hubby, but we are all still coming to terms with the fact she’ll never be home, again.
I don’t know if this will help others, or if I am just rambling… but I decided to be brave and share this with you all. I am saving up £300 to have some of her ashes turned into a necklace and a ring so I can carry her with me forever. I just don’t have that sort of spare cash at the moment, so, for now, she watches over me and her little brother as we sleep.
Thank you for reading this and thank you for the continued support.