Posted By: Outdoor Writer
Sasha's Gone - 02/07/11 04:38 PM
Been a while since I've been here, but I thought I would share a few private moments from last week.
I thought I was pretty tough in situations like this, but Weds. was a really rough day for me because my silver lady, Sasha suddenly and unexpectedly died. Yet she was seemingly fine Tues. night.
When I sat on the couch to watch TV that night, Sasha came running with her Kong toy, as she often did. She'd bring it to me and then back off about 6-8 ft. so I could throw it for her to catch in mid-air. That night, she had kept at it until I told her "no more." When I did that, she made herself comfy on the floor next to me, between the couch and the coffee table. Her Kong was nestled between her front paws next to her nose. I eventually fell asleep on the couch where I spent the night.
That was the last time I saw her that night.
Weds. morning, I woke up about 4:15, turned on the kitchen light and made coffee, etc., etc. Usually as soon as I got up, and entered the kitchen, Sasha would be right there, waiting to get her beefy, medication laced treat. I was awake for more than an hour when I eventually realized I hadn't seen her. I began looking. She wasn't in any of her usual haunts.
I first checked the couch in the front living room where she often sleeps; it's the only piece of furniture in the entire house she was allowed access to. The couch was empty. I then started checking all the other empty, dark rooms by calling her name from the doorways. When she didn't come to my calls, I went out back and called for her from the patio. Nothing.
By now, it was about time for my wife to get up, so I opened the bedroom door and turned on the light to see if Sasha might have been closed in there when Ellen had gone to bed. Sasha wasn't there either. So I asked El if she had maybe opened the front door after I fell asleep. Although I knew Sasha wouldn't go anywhere, I thought perhaps she had been isolated to the front patio. But the few times that has happened, she barked continuously until one of us let her into the house again. But Ellen hadn't been out front at all since she had arrived home from work at 5:30.
I decided to check each room again, this time with the lights on.
Since it was directly across from our bedroom, I started with the spare front bedroom -- one Sasha rarely went into unless Ellen or I went in there for something. I turned on the light, and although she was mostly hidden, it took only a second to see Sasha’s nose sticking out on the far side of one of the beds in there. She didn’t react as she normally would have.
I walked over and sat on the other bed. She was lying there as if she was asleep, but her eyes were still open. Even before I reached down to touch her very still body, I could tell she wasn't breathing. I pushed her eyelids shut.
In the meantime, Ellen had got out of bed. When she saw me sitting on the bed, she came into the bedroom.
By then, I was already in tears. All I could muster was, "She's dead."
Ellen looked at Sasha lying on the floor, put her hands to her face, said, "Oh no," and began crying.
After Ellen left for work a while later, it was really quiet and sad here as I went about the business of doing what I had to do with Sasha's lifeless body. I had e-mailed my son earlier to tell him Sasha had died. When he called to ask what had happened, I couldn’t talk to him. I told him to call back later that day.
Few words were exchanged by Ellen and I at the dinner table that night. The days since haven’t been much better. Every time I see Sasha's crate, toys, bowls and beds still where they were when she died or if I think about her, I become a blubbering sissy. The Kong is still laying between the couch and table, where she had left it.
Sasha’s collar now hangs alongside the one that belonged to my German shorthair, Ginger. At least, knowing Ginger was old and had cancer gave me time to realize she would soon be gone. Sure it was hard to take her to the vet and have her in my hands as the injection caused her life to leave her. Still, I shed some tears, but by then I was ready to handle them. That's been the case with almost all of the pups I've owned over many years; most have lived to old age.
That's not the case with Sasha's sudden and unexplained death at less than five years old. While I certainly wouldn't want her to have suffered, I would have been happier if we both had several more years to enjoy each other's company. And I bet she would have liked that, as well.
What really bothers me is not knowing if she could have been saved. I’ll never know if quick medical attention might have prevented her death if it had happened while I was awake. It’s especially bothersome considering she was fine only hours earlier.
The fact she went into that front bedroom to die makes me wonder if she knew what was happening and seemingly didn’t want us to know it or find her. Otherwise I can’t explain why she would be there since she never ventured into that room without El or I being there.
Worst of all, though, I never had a chance to say goodbye.
[img:center]http://forums.coueswhitetail.com/forums/index.php?act=attach&type=post&id=30402[/img]
I thought I was pretty tough in situations like this, but Weds. was a really rough day for me because my silver lady, Sasha suddenly and unexpectedly died. Yet she was seemingly fine Tues. night.
When I sat on the couch to watch TV that night, Sasha came running with her Kong toy, as she often did. She'd bring it to me and then back off about 6-8 ft. so I could throw it for her to catch in mid-air. That night, she had kept at it until I told her "no more." When I did that, she made herself comfy on the floor next to me, between the couch and the coffee table. Her Kong was nestled between her front paws next to her nose. I eventually fell asleep on the couch where I spent the night.
That was the last time I saw her that night.
Weds. morning, I woke up about 4:15, turned on the kitchen light and made coffee, etc., etc. Usually as soon as I got up, and entered the kitchen, Sasha would be right there, waiting to get her beefy, medication laced treat. I was awake for more than an hour when I eventually realized I hadn't seen her. I began looking. She wasn't in any of her usual haunts.
I first checked the couch in the front living room where she often sleeps; it's the only piece of furniture in the entire house she was allowed access to. The couch was empty. I then started checking all the other empty, dark rooms by calling her name from the doorways. When she didn't come to my calls, I went out back and called for her from the patio. Nothing.
By now, it was about time for my wife to get up, so I opened the bedroom door and turned on the light to see if Sasha might have been closed in there when Ellen had gone to bed. Sasha wasn't there either. So I asked El if she had maybe opened the front door after I fell asleep. Although I knew Sasha wouldn't go anywhere, I thought perhaps she had been isolated to the front patio. But the few times that has happened, she barked continuously until one of us let her into the house again. But Ellen hadn't been out front at all since she had arrived home from work at 5:30.
I decided to check each room again, this time with the lights on.
Since it was directly across from our bedroom, I started with the spare front bedroom -- one Sasha rarely went into unless Ellen or I went in there for something. I turned on the light, and although she was mostly hidden, it took only a second to see Sasha’s nose sticking out on the far side of one of the beds in there. She didn’t react as she normally would have.
I walked over and sat on the other bed. She was lying there as if she was asleep, but her eyes were still open. Even before I reached down to touch her very still body, I could tell she wasn't breathing. I pushed her eyelids shut.
In the meantime, Ellen had got out of bed. When she saw me sitting on the bed, she came into the bedroom.
By then, I was already in tears. All I could muster was, "She's dead."
Ellen looked at Sasha lying on the floor, put her hands to her face, said, "Oh no," and began crying.
After Ellen left for work a while later, it was really quiet and sad here as I went about the business of doing what I had to do with Sasha's lifeless body. I had e-mailed my son earlier to tell him Sasha had died. When he called to ask what had happened, I couldn’t talk to him. I told him to call back later that day.
Few words were exchanged by Ellen and I at the dinner table that night. The days since haven’t been much better. Every time I see Sasha's crate, toys, bowls and beds still where they were when she died or if I think about her, I become a blubbering sissy. The Kong is still laying between the couch and table, where she had left it.
Sasha’s collar now hangs alongside the one that belonged to my German shorthair, Ginger. At least, knowing Ginger was old and had cancer gave me time to realize she would soon be gone. Sure it was hard to take her to the vet and have her in my hands as the injection caused her life to leave her. Still, I shed some tears, but by then I was ready to handle them. That's been the case with almost all of the pups I've owned over many years; most have lived to old age.
That's not the case with Sasha's sudden and unexplained death at less than five years old. While I certainly wouldn't want her to have suffered, I would have been happier if we both had several more years to enjoy each other's company. And I bet she would have liked that, as well.
What really bothers me is not knowing if she could have been saved. I’ll never know if quick medical attention might have prevented her death if it had happened while I was awake. It’s especially bothersome considering she was fine only hours earlier.
The fact she went into that front bedroom to die makes me wonder if she knew what was happening and seemingly didn’t want us to know it or find her. Otherwise I can’t explain why she would be there since she never ventured into that room without El or I being there.
Worst of all, though, I never had a chance to say goodbye.
[img:center]http://forums.coueswhitetail.com/forums/index.php?act=attach&type=post&id=30402[/img]
