Reggie Resting in Peace
3 Comments Published by Oh Wayward One on 08 September 2008 at 9/08/2008 10:45:00 am.
We lost Reggie at 11pm on friday night. He had been with us at the office all morning but we dropped him at home at lunch because we had dinner plans for after work. When we came home around 9:30 he was curled up on the floor in a corner of the shed that he normally doesn't sleep in (i.e. not in his bed), and could hardly get up. While The Mr. was walking him out into the back yard to come inside, he collapsed and by the look in his eyes we knew it wouldn't be long, so we carried him into his blue chair in the bedroom and I sat with him and held him for about an hour until he took his last breath and his heart just stopped beating.
It was a horrible night but at least we were with him and he didn't suffer for long. I have a feeling he really tried to hang on until we got home that night, because when he collapsed on the way into the house he had the same look on his face as he did in his last few minutes, so he really "came back" for his last hour with me in his blue chair.
When an animal is dying, a lot of times his jaw will go stiff and the tongue limp, and his eyes roll back a little. This is how he was when he collapsed in the back yard. During the hour that I sat with him and cuddled him and talked to him, his eyes came back into focus and he relaxed a little, which is how I know he was really putting his all into staying with me for a little while longer. But his breathing was still puffing, and he was really focusing so hard on looking straight ahead. I couldn't really get his attention, but could tell he was trying to hang on for me. In his final minutes (it was very quick), he gave a few tiny hiccups and I saw the eyes roll backwards again, which prompted me to put my hand on his heart and was able to feel it just slowly... stop... beating.
While it was completely and utterly devastating, it was peaceful and real and comforting (considering it was the loss of Reggie). Definitely the closest I had ever been to experiencing death, and 500 billion % better than the loss of his sister, J. (who I came home from work and found unexpectedly hours dead, completely stiff, flies buzzing, at which stage I proceeded to totally freak out, etc). I never had a good feeling about that one. In fact I think unfortunately the way that played out actually has negatively impacted all my memories of J., and that's just a horrible feeling. At least with Reggie, the only feelings I'm left with are those of genuine emotional pain and mourning, but in a loving and comforting way.
At 11:03, I collected myself and called out for the Mr. to come in, and Alan followed too (who was here visiting for the weekend). He was upset that he hadn't been with him during his last minutes, but we just didn't know how long he was going to last. No one could've known. We went straight out into the garden and the boys worked into the wee hours of the morning digging a grave for him in his old pen, right under our bedroom window. The damned soil in our part of the country is so rocky we had to break out every tool in the box, chisels, hammers, lump hammers, picks, etc. All the rock-breaking woke Mary up, who knew... before she even came out to the yard to see what was going on... she just knew. She had seen him vomit that afternoon and I think was way more worried about him than she let on (she had called us at dinner to tell us).
Probably one of the best things that could possibly happen during all this was that we worked fast enough between 11 and 1:30am that while his little body was left laying on his chair, covered up in his blanket, he stayed nice and warm and supple. So when the Mr. carried him out, there was no horrible scary stiffness or coldness to the touch. Putting him in his grave was the hardest part though. There were just so many rocks... I insisted on making sure there was a layer of dirt at the bottom because I nearly had a mental breakdown at the thought of laying his body on a sharp rock or something. Then i cut one of his doggy blankets from Ireland in half, so that we could keep one part as a memory and cover him up with the other part, to avoid seeing my precious boy get dirt and rocks thrown on top of him. I know it sounds outrageous, but these are the things that make burying your best friend emotionally manageable.
So there we were, 1:30 in the morning, standing over my boy's grave, all 3 of us. I have to say we really couldn't have done it with out Alan... I had to hold lights over the boys as they absolutely wrecked themselves like slaves on a chain gang, carving out a sufficient hole in this horrible ground we have here. They were drenched in sweat and pain by the time it was done but none of us could have left without making it perfect. After all, it was Reggie.
The next morning the Mr. woke up and told me that we should be so proud of Reggie for hanging on until we got home, to let himself go. The whole experience would've been so much more horrible if we'd come home and found him. He also said how proud he was that he braved the operation on Tuesday and didn't die on the table at the vets. He also reminded me that when we came home his bowl of food was gone, that Mary would've fed to him a few hours before we got there. That means right til the very end, Reggie loved his food enough to pull his poor old body up and over to his bowl, and try to eat one last time. We talked about how happy we were that he left us from the comfort and familiarity of his old blue chair - the one he "selected" for his own out of all our furniture in Australia (where he wasn't allowed), and then Ireland, and now Botswana (where we finally caved).
I could say we've cried buckets of tears but that still wouldn't even explain the half of it. First of all there's the sheer pain of turning around every corner and seeing the last place he was laying, the leash that took him for his last walk, the chair he used to sleep on, the doorway he used to sit in to watch us cook.... not hearing his Reggie-noises... not having to fill up the little yellow bowl every morning. And at work it's even worse. There's no cuddle breaks or water-bowl filling to do... E. has no one to sit under his desk and order pets (likewise for me & the Mr). But then compounding that, it's the emotional difficulty that surfaces when you think about our bond with him. He was our first kid, he lived in all 3 of our houses on 3 continents. He had more quirks and behavioural challenges, and character than any other dog I've ever had. I know people say that you can't have favourites, but I know in my heart I loved this dog more than any of the 5 I'd had before him, and any of our 3 that we have now. Every 10 minutes the Mr. and I look at each other and our eyes well up. One of us will say something about something he did just recently, or something that we remember about him, and the other one will have to look away before choking up all over again. This has been the repeated procedure over the last 72 hours.
Anyway now his grave has a little bundle of flowers that I picked from our garden on it that we left for him, as well as his old bowl that we filled with water so that the other puppies can drink out of it and "visit" him from time to time. It's under a nice shady tree in the part of the garden that he spent most of his time while outside. We found ourselves going out there numerous times throughout the weekend, just to stand and talk about what a good boy he was. It's weird but it really does feel good to be there by his grave, and it's the first thing we think about in the morning as the sun comes in through that window that overlooks it. It's like he's close by, at least.
Since we'll probably move sometime in the not-so-distant future, we've decided to make a memorial piece of him, probably with one of our best pictures of him and something written to remind us of Reggie, in a frame. Or something. But that will be our memorial to him since we'll have to leave his body behind, eventually.
Reggie's last photo: thursday night when we went around to Petra's for dinner.
Sorry to hear about Reggie, poor little thing. I remember going for a walk with you guys, Reggie and Jodie and Aeron's mum's beagle when you were back here. Gee that made me laugh... 3 out of control beagles in search of food! Who was walking who i remember thinking!
Take care of yourselves
love Sandra
RIP Reggie.
I will always remember house sitting for you guys not long after we moved to Ireland, and therefore looking after the dogs too.
Reggie would always do these massive farts while we were watching telly, or just do these little barks in his sleep. Classic.
Anyway, Donny and I were very moved by the story of his last hours, and are very happy that you were able to be with him at the end.
Hope you guys go alright over the next while. He will be missed.
thank you so much for sharing Reggie with us all, Bill. What a bitter sweet blessing to hear of his last moments.
I have spent hours looking at the photo you sent me of Reggie and his sign - still amongst the funniest things I have ever seen!
I wrapped my Penni Girl in a pink silk wrap for the same reason you insisted on his blanket. I totally know exactly what you mean.
Greatest love to you and the Mr.