Day 3: Missing Flower

It’s been a while since I’ve blogged about our three “shih tzu” half-sisters and Nigel. I wish the reason for writing this was a happy one, but it isn’t. 

This is the third day of mourning our dear, precious Flower. I don’t even know how I’m going to write this. I just know that I must honor her and the time we had with her, as painful as it is.

Just a few days ago, I would have never thought that Flower wouldn’t be staring up from her dog bed, with those beautiful eyes, or sitting on her end table by the couch staring out the window, waiting for a squirrel to show up, or perhaps thinking about the walk she took the week before. I guess I really like this picture because this was where she sat when she wasn’t in a dog bed or on the end table. She shared this couch with John when he was watching TV, but had it to herself the rest of the time. 

One of the horribly painful parts of this is that until the night before she died, we had no idea Flower was sick. Our last outing had been to the Majestic View Nature Center the Sunday before. As usual, Flower had sat in the front seat between us, anxiously waiting to get to the park. I had taken the dogs to the vet the week before to get heartworm tests and medicine and had misplaced a leash, so I carried Dottie and walked Nigel, while John walked Flower and Candy, as usual.

I took a shortcut, which I often did, and waited with Nigel and Dottie, watching as John came towards us with Flower and Candy. Nothing seemed strange to me, although Flower didn’t come up front to sit with us on the way home. I also didn’t notice anything different about her for the rest of the week. Maybe she slept a little more than usual, but I really couldn’t say. She panted one day, but I thought she was hot and I didn’t see her panting after that. 

John and I went to look for flowers for the garden on Saturday morning, June 1. We were so excited for it to be June and that our perennials would soon be blooming. We bought several annuals for our raised bed, stopped to eat, and then headed home. It was raining and I heard thunder as we got close to the house. That’s always a worry because Flower is scared of thunder. 

When we got home, she was under the dining room table. I knew she had been scared but that’s all I thought. Later on, I noticed Flower was breathing rapidly and it seemed like she was trying to throw up, but she didn’t. We talked about what could be the problem. I was a little uneasy about it, but we decided that we would check on her in the morning, and if we had to, take her to urgent care. In the morning, she wasn’t retching, but she was still having trouble breathing. I had looked at reviews for urgent care vets near us and called the one with the best reviews. I told them the symptoms. The person who answered the phone said I should take her somewhere soon but she suggested other places since they were very busy. She said it would be less hectic in a few hours if we did wait.

I decided I would wait a couple of hours and take her there because I didn’t want to go to the places that were suggested due to their reviews. A few times Flower tried to get up, but she fell, and I knew she was weak. Once, she went outside to sit by John on the patio, and we thought that was a good sign. But when she fell again, and then I noticed bubbles in her nose, I said we had to leave. 

We hoped and prayed on the way there that they could take care of her. John handed her to the woman at the front desk and she asked if we wanted them to do CPR. Through my tears, I said yes. In a few minutes, they brought her back and said she was gone. 

John asked the vet what he thought happened and she said that if she were to guess, she’d say congestive heart failure. The entire time they talked, I paced back and forth, crying, unbelieving it was happening, had happened. How could it be possible that Flower was suddenly gone?? 

I couldn’t bear to leave her there, so we brought her home in a box. All I can say to her is this: Our inadequacies and our wrong decision not to take you to the vet the night before don’t at all reflect our love for you, Flower. We loved you dearly and we will be mourning you for a long, long time. Our hearts are broken. 

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