Stewart

My last goodbye

I first met my Mommy and Daddy when I was five-weeks-old. I was a particularly special birthday gift for my Mommy’s 30th birthday. Me and my six litter-mates were all very excited to meet them. We jumped into their laps, biting at their clothes. I was so grateful they chose me amidst the chaos, but I was still too little to leave. I needed to stay behind for a few more weeks. Before our inaugural parting, they taught me my first word. My name is Stewart.

I’m the little guy with the green collar at the start of this video watching from the edge of the group. Even as a puppy I was overwhelmed by the unpredictable and excessive energy of puppies and preferred to stay close to my humans.

Three weeks later my Mommy and Daddy appeared. They gathered me up and introduced me to my next word…home. I instantly smelled something completely new and foreign. I learned her name was Annie, my Mommy’s seven-year-old cat and she did NOT like me. I tried to play with her, but it turns out she did not like this either.

Eventually, I learned to give her a little space and our relationship developed into one of mutual respect and distant companionship. We would sit near each other on the stairs or in the kitchen. I liked being near Annie, but she was independent and required some individual territory. Gradually Annie claimed my Mommy’s office as her own, often guarding the door to affirm that I was not to enter. Though my Mommy still used the space, and when she was working in Annie’s room she would invite me to sit with her, Annie, of course, did not approve of this unilateral decision. The whole thing would make me uncomfortable, so I often wouldn’t join them. I avoided Annie’s room all together, even when my Mommy said it was ok, even after Annie left. Annie could be a kind big sister. She knew I really liked treats, so she would ask Daddy for a treat, then walk away, leaving it for me. There was one place Annie would agree to share space with me, and that was my Mommy’s “Good Blanket”. My Mommy would always bring her Good Blanket to the couch when she was ready to relax at the end of the day. It was a race for Annie and I to see who could reach her first, the winner was awarded with the coveted spot behind the crook of Mommy’s legs. I was never far from my Mommy or Daddy, so I was often gifted time nested in by my Mommy.

The highly coveted Good Blanket

We fell into rhythm as a family with my Mommy and Daddy coming and going in their usual patterns for work. This is how Daddy taught me my Mommy’s name. Mommy would always phone Daddy when she was leaving work, then Daddy would look at me and say “your Mommy’s coming home!” and I would race to the window. Before long, my Mommy’s car would pull into the driveway. Daddy was diligent in his lessons, asking me “where is your Mommy, go find your Mommy!” My Mommy thought this was funny and tried to teach me the word Daddy, but never stuck with it as much. I was always so excited to see my Mommy and Daddy, sometimes I had trouble controlling my legs and I would leap with both front paws pointing out to the sides. My Mommy called these my jangly-legs. Then she would scratch me and call me her Best Boy.

I made friends easily on our neighbourhood walks. A few of them, including our mailman, Sebastian, knew me by name and would get a kick out of my excitement at hearing their voices call my name. My ears would perk up and I would jolt in in their direction, pulling at my leash, insisting we stop to say “hi”. I delighted in the kindness of humans, which was a special quality I shared with Daddy as he loved to stop and chat with people too. He would take me to the dog park and both of us would relish the time making friends with humans even more than their dogs. It was a special thing we did.

Neighbourhood walks are where my Mommy and Daddy first introduced me to nature, spending many early days exploring our local NCC trails. I walked this trail countless times, so many that Daddy referenced it in a love song he wrote for my Mommy and me many years later.

I was very young, only one-year-old when I got sick the first time. My legs felt weak and I stopped eating. My Mommy and Daddy took me to meet Dr. Ian, a great veterinarian, who took care of me my entire life. Dr. Ian discovered I had Addison’s Disease. I started taking medication every day and I got better, but it wasn’t a year before I was sick again. We went back to visit Dr. Ian who told us my Addison’s Disease was under control and this was an entirely new problem. I was diagnosed with Protein Losing Nephropathy, a genetic condition which was causing my kidneys to fail. My Mommy and Daddy really struggled to get the treatment right as it included a special kidney-friendly diet. For almost a year my Mommy and Daddy made all my food themselves. My Mommy even gathered broccoli stems from her colleagues as one of the ingredients. It took a while before they found a recipe I liked, and they would spend Sunday afternoons preparing my food for the week. This went on until I became sick again, this time with hypothyroid disorder which meant more medication, now twice a day. I didn't understand what made me sick all the time, so I started avoiding everything, including my homemade food. I know, super frustrating for my Mommy and Daddy because they were forced to throw out a month’s worth of food provisions they had premade and froze. I still required specific food for my kidney health, so they started purchasing it from the vet. They were trying so hard to help me feel better. From then on I always finished my entire dish, licking my bowl clean. I would only deviate from this ritual if I was not feeling well. I guess this helped them know if I was sick.

Despite requiring a special diet and medication multiple times a day, my Mommy and Daddy loved bringing me on adventures! They took me with them everywhere, climbing mountains, walking ridge lines, crossing rivers and waterfalls, never concerned if the weather was beautiful or terrible or freezing. My favourite adventures were always our canoe trips. We would paddle far into the forest and set up camp away from everyone. I didn’t like swimming, but I enjoyed wading up to my shoulders to cool down. Daddy likes to swim and would sometimes swim straight across the lake. I would sit on the beach and track him, refusing to move until he safely returned. I panicked if he dove underwater (even in our pool this was an unacceptable practice). I needed to see him at all times.

I remember how excited I was to wake up in the tent on our first camping trip as a family. There was an entire forest outside I was eager to explore. I would beg at the door, sometimes my Mommy would get up with me and read her book by the lake while I explored camp, sometimes it was just too early and she would stay in bed, but allow me outside on a leash to sniff around. Once she woke up to find me tangled around a tree. Even though I was a puppy, I sat patiently and waited in silence for her to rescue me. She laughed and came to help. I loved camping with my family. Sometimes friends would join, sometimes it was just us, my Mommy reading a book in the hammock, Daddy playing his small guitar on the beach, and all three of us cuddling in the tent at night.

When I was seven-years-old Annie suddenly became very sick. She was so weak she could hardly get up or down the stairs. We still cuddled with my Mommy on our favourite blanket but my Mommy was crying a lot. I made sure to be extra gentle with Annie. The next day Annie was gone. I would search the house for her, but she never came back.

Our house felt empty, like it was missing a part of the whole. My Mommy was very sad and in my opinion made a terrible sadness decision. It all happened so fast. One day I was visiting my good friends Ali and Gaston when my Mommy and Daddy drove up with a tiny puppy. They called him Jackson and I instantly hated him. He was just too much. He always jumped at my face and bit at my legs. He was a tornado. I hid in the corner. I jumped onto high places his little 4lb body wasn’t capable of reaching. I could not relax with Jackson around. Finally, my Mommy and Daddy developed a system to cage the beast. Jackson would stay in a large day pen until I felt comfortable approaching him through the barrier. That’s then I realized how much fun a little brother could be, and my Mommy let him out to play. We wrestled and wrestled for hours! I didn’t mind Jackson biting at my legs so much anymore. And when I got tired, my Mommy or Daddy would put Jackson back into his large pen so I could enjoy my solitude. Eventually Jackson was better at giving me some space, and he was allowed to remain outside the pen. He continued to leap at my face whenever he was excited, which was often - before any walk, whenever my Mommy came home from work, when we were given treats…it somehow never got less exciting for him. I do agree though, my Mommy coming home from work was always exciting.

My Mommy and Daddy started bringing Jackson on our adventures. Jackson was so little that my Mommy had to help him up the larger rocks, but I was great at finding a way up on my own! Jackson also stole my spot in the tent, but I never complained, I just moved over so he could lay right at my Mommy’s feet. In the morning, when everyone woke up, I would crawl into Daddy’s sleeping bag and Jackson would crawl in with my Mommy. Jackson and my Mommy were always first to get up, they would go and make coffee while Daddy and I cuddled for a while longer. This became my favourite camping ritual, tent time with Daddy.

Jackson, my little brother. You kept me young and made my days more exciting. I loved play wrestling with you and regret those final months not being well enough to do so. You are going to have to be the big brother now. Try to be a good boy. Listen to your Mommy and Daddy. Stay by their side like I always did and you will always be safe and loved.

I loved Annie and Jackson, but even more than them, I really loved my humans. I made so many friends over the years, some with a lasting impact on my life. For them, I wanted the chance for a special goodbye.

My friend Karlen (my Mommy said Karlen is her little cousin) moved to Ottawa in the spring of 2015, when I was nine-months-old. She moved in with us for a few weeks while she settled into a new city.  We quickly became friends. My Mommy and Daddy took a long holiday shortly after, so Karlen stayed with me and took me on walks. This was the first time my Mommy and Daddy were gone for a long time, but I wasn't scared because Karlen was with me. We helped each other if we were lonely. I really loved cousin Karlen. She had a favourite teddy bear that would sit on her bed. I never liked stuffed toys, but this one smelled like Karlen and made me feel safe, so when she wasn’t looking I would borrow it from her bed and snuggle with it in mine. If I got scared, I would nuzzle the little toy bear but I accidentally chewed off its nose. My Mommy and Karlen thought this was cute so Karlen gifted me the bear. I was always most excited to see cousin Karlen show up behind the door.

Grandma visits our home a couple of times per year. I would get excited when Daddy would say “Grandma is coming!” My ears would perk-up and I would run to the door, waiting for him to load Jackson and I into the car and drive. When we stopped, the back hatch of our vehicle would open and there was Grandma, as if she magically appeared. Grandma would stay for several weeks, always giving us treats when she was cooking in the kitchen and letting us cuddle in her bed each morning while she read. Grandma was always so kind and gentle with us. I loved going with her on walks even though she walks VERY fast! Then, as quickly as she appeared, she would be gone. I missed her when she left and would lay on her bed hoping she could magically reappear. Thank-you for all the love and care Grandma. I will miss your pats and the way you called me pal. You were a wonderful puppy-grandma. Sorry to leave you with only Jackson, I bet that’s a drag.

I made so many friends over the years. I am eternally grateful for the memories and love everyone shared with me. For doggy-dinners with our pack friends Tina, Tony, and all their fur-babies. For sleepovers with Auntie Jocelyne and Uncle Chris and Robot. For camping with friends Ali and Gaston, especially Ali for always letting me sit awkwardly on her lap. I love you all. Thank you for caring for me, playing with me, and being a meaningful part of my life. You are all very special people.

My Mommy wanted a family hiking trip for her birthday last November, so we packed up the car and drove to Shenandoah National Park in Virginia. We didn’t realize this would be our last family trip. I woke up one morning feeling very sick. I was shaking and hardly able to stand. It was difficult to breath. My Mommy and Daddy took me to see a doctor in Virginia. The doctor gave me medicine, which did help me rest comfortably. My Mommy and Daddy found it hard to leave me behind when they went on a hike; they just wanted to hike as a family. This is when they first started talking about my long-term health.

The next month near Christmas, my Mommy and Daddy noticed some changes in me. I was having trouble chewing and drinking. I was too weak to play with Jackson and could no longer jump on the bed. They took me back to see Dr. Ian who found that I had a rare neurological reaction to a tickborne disease. The only treatment was strong antibiotics. These were very hard for my body to handle and I became very sick and very dizzy. I was walking in circles, my eyes were moving in circles. I vomited. I could hardly stand. I accidentally jumped off the bed before my Mommy could lift me down and hurt my paw. My Mommy created a splint to help me heal. I was so sad. Daddy was having a really hard time watching me struggle. Being a sick dog is hard on the whole family.

I slowly recovered enough to go on walks again and even played a little with Jackson. Everyone was so relieved when I felt well enough to play even though I was still too weak to play long. My paw soreness would come and go so sometimes I wasn’t allowed on walks for a few days. But my Mommy worked with me on my balance and my paw’s movement. She put yoga mats down in front of the couch so I could land on something grippy. She even bought me step-stairs and taught me how to use them to get on and off the bed. So much was changing with my body, but I still liked to lay beside Daddy while he played guitar.

A few weeks later Grandma came to visit while my Mommy and Daddy went on a holiday for Daddy’s birthday. Grandma was attentive to my new challenges. If I wasn’t feeling well on a walk I would pull back towards the house and Grandma would take me home and let me rest. But when my Mommy and Daddy returned home I was feeling well enough to hike my favourite trail, The Waterfall Trail. The whole family came including Grandma. This was my last time on this trail.

It was only one-week later Daddy noticed I didn’t eat my breakfast. My Mommy thought this was weird because I seemed cheerful on our walk that morning. But I was suddenly very sick. I vomited. I could barely lift my head. I was having trouble breathing and trouble standing. Daddy took me to the hospital. They admitted me and put me on oxygen. I spent the night in the hospital. Early the next morning my Mommy and Daddy called the hospital. They talked to the overnight vet tech who said I was still not eating and was unable to stand on my own. If she tried to help me stand, I would lean all the way to the right and wrap myself around her legs. They talked to the doctor who said I was breathing better and was off the oxygen, but that I had signs that something was wrong with my brain. He suggested I see a neurologist within the next week but that I was stable enough to go home. My Mommy and Daddy were relieved and Daddy said he would come get me around lunch time, but I couldn’t make it until then. I was too weak. The doctors didn’t understand. Two hours later the hospital called again. I had passed. I never made it home.

My Mommy was very special to me. She was my rock. Whenever I got scared I would prefer to run to my Mommy. Thunderstorms were particularly hard, I could smell them coming and would stick close to my Mommy, waiting to hear the inevitable boom. Then I would tremble uncontrollably. I would get so scared. I would pant and shake, trying to crawl inside my Mommy for safety. She understood though. She would lay with me and cuddle me, sometimes all night until the storm stopped and I could calm down.

When my Mommy got the news, she drove Daddy and Jackson to the hospital. Daddy was inconsolable. My Mommy said she wanted to see me and have some time with me. They took her into a room to visit my body. My Mommy’s heart broke when she saw me laying there, wrapped in a soft blanket just like my Mommy’s Good Blanket. She hugged me, petting my head. She apologized over and over. She did not want me to die alone and scared in a hospital. She wished I could have died in her arms, holding me so I wouldn't be scared. She thought I gave up because she wasn’t there with me.

For my Mommy, my rock: What I will miss the most is our cuddles, me curled up in the scoop of your legs resting my head on your ankle. You loved this too and woke up early every morning to cuddle with me while we listened to stories. I will miss my spot in the tent at your feet, but my favourite spot was right behind you in the canoe. I liked being there with you, looking over the edge at the water and listening to the rhythm of your paddle. You were always so concerned about my comfort, buying me a sleeping bag and sweater for cold camping nights, rain jackets for stormy days, and a life jacket for windy canoe crossings. You loved me so dearly.

When my Mommy had composed herself she asked Daddy if he and Jackson wanted to see me. Jackson was the hardest. He was so excited to find me in this foreign place. Daddy held him up to smell my body. Jackson licked my face over and over trying to rouse me. His bottom lip quivered. Jackson stood on my Mommy’s lap for a long while, staring at my body, waiting for me to move. My Mommy and Daddy aren’t sure, but they think it helped Jackson understand.

Daddy was hit hardest. No matter how much I loved my Mommy, Daddy and I had a very special bond. Daddy was my friend, my playmate, my guiding star. He was so light-hearted. He would dash and hide behind a chair or a tree so I could search and find him. He played with me, engaged with me, running with his own jangly-legs up and down soccer fields and campsite beaches enticing me to chase him. He patiently stopped to let me sniff whatever I wanted on walks. He knew my favourite treats and would buy extra baby carrots and radishes just for me. He even cooked special doggy desserts so I could have a treat after every dinner. When he gathered me in his arms, carrying me to his bed for a cuddle, all would be right for those short moments. He was my favourite big spoon.

To Daddy, my best friend: Words cannot replace the chunk of your heart my absence has taken to the other side. A bond like ours is never forgotten and never replaced. I will miss your music the most. The sound of your guitar beckons to me, a siren song that draws me close to you. Whenever you long for me, pick up your guitar and you will find me with you, curled up at your feet.

Special thanks to Jenny Kingsley for all her work helping Mommy with this project. Though I wasn’t fortunate to get much time with you, I was always excited to see you at the door as it meant we were going to do something fun.