u/feldoneq2wire

Today is day 4 and I'm scared for a new reason.

I've been very fortunate to have friends and family and a spouse to talk to about losing my Sebastian after 10 1/2 years. And that's pretty much all I've been doing in between bouts of crying -- talking. It's been tackling feelings of guilt about not acting sooner and not cherishing every day and not paying him the attention I wish now that I had. It's been logic vs. emotional turmoil. But now I'm scared.

With all the processing and talking, now I can say his name without choking. I woke up this morning and didn't immediately cry in despair for wanting him back. I feel like my boy is becoming an abstract. I don't know if I'm feeling peace or acceptance or a numbness of self preservation but I don't want this either! I want him to matter!

I'm sure there are people here who would kill to not break up emotionally 20 times a day. But right now I'm afraid I'm rushing through this process and I feel like I'm erasing over a beloved video tape. It's too soon to be able to look at the bed or his favorite spots and not cry. Maybe it's my ADHD which tends to erase details of people I care about. I'm also guilty of suppressing emotion in the past. But feeling "better" is making me feel worse right now. Be careful what you wish for.

I was going through pictures and realized over the last 4 months I barely took any pictures of him, after having taken so many pictures around having his mast cell tumor removed and going on a trip to the mountains (which he loved). I'm afraid I was starting to take him for granted.

I'm writing a memory book and now I feel I need to hurry up and get it all down while I can.

Today was the worst day. Like a lot of you, I feel like I'm drowning. Every time I walk around the house, I catch myself looking for him.

A week ago Sebastian threw up bile. I called the vet but they didn't really know what it was unless I brought him in. It had been 6 months since he'd had a mast cell tumor removed and I'd been lulled into a false sense of security. I'd stopped fussing over him. Then 3 days ago I noticed he was having trouble breathing. I took him in and found out he had Fluid in the pericardial sac and a growth. The fluid was bright red. The cancer had spread nonetheless.

I was given the impossible choice. Put him to sleep now or take him to the hospital and drain the fluid for $$ to buy... hours? days? There were no guarantees. We went ahead and had the fluid drained and called everyone who knew him well. When I tell you Sebastian really broke the mold. Most dogs are loyal to their owner and don't really get close to other people. He was a people addict! The more the better. It's hard to describe how much he loved people and how much love he put in people's hearts. We got him home from the surgery and he was loopy but then he started to feel the pain. For some reason they sent me home from the draining surgery without pain meds! I called them up and we got him the meds and that helped a lot. He slept for an hour and then was more like his usual self and was able to visit with all the people that cared about him. Three people drove from over an hour away to see him. It was the sendoff he deserved.

He finally got some good sleep in our bed but at 5am I could tell he needed more pain meds which I gave him. He wasn't full of fluid but I could tell he was hurting and that the meds were just taking the edge off. I called the hospital and set a time -- 8am. He acted surprisingly normal. Wagging his tail and licking our faces. Which killed me because I was wondering... is it too soon? But I had to remember that keeping him alive in pain, filling with fluid, feeling like he's drowning, would have been so cruel. So at 9am, as the 4 of us were petting him, he passed away peacefully.

He got to be on this earth for 10 1/2 years. Cancer stole years away from us. And yes I'm angry and sad, and feeling hopeless. I wanted more time. If I had any advice for people, as your dogs age, watch them like a hawk for any sign of illness. I felt like a hypochondriac calling the vet over some trouble breathing, but if I hadn't, it would have been a disaster. The vet said he wouldn't have survived the night. I didn't really know how bad it was until I tried to pick him up at the vet to put him on the scale and he about threw up.

My partner has kept me from spiraling and he suggested I make a memory book with words and pictures to tell the story of who he was. They really broke the mold with him.