It’s been exactly one week since I was on here last. And so much has happened. With the heaviest heart I’ve ever had, I have to share some news with you. Last Monday, we had to say goodbye to our Sawyer. Just a little over two weeks ago, I shared Sawyer’s diagnosis. We honestly thought he would have more time with us. We began the steroid treatment on the 22nd, and it really perked Sawyer up. He almost seemed like he was back to his old self, just a tad bit slower. We were optimistic.
I wish I could say that he went peacefully, and that we had plenty of time to make a decision. Sawyer woke up Monday morning, and we could tell he wasn’t feeling his best self. He was fairly lethargic all day. Right around 3 p.m., a black cat showed up by my office window, and it was one I had never seen before. It looked like it might have been in some distress, so I took a photo, and I sent it to a group text message thread. I went outside to check on the cat, and it just kind of stared at me. I headed back inside to grab some water for the cat, but Sawyer had perked up by the time I made it back inside. So, I let him out in the yard to use the restroom, gave him a dog biscuit, and he got some water. Then, he went to come work right next to me. And about five seconds after that, he started having a seizure.
I called my husband frantically to ask him to come home ASAP, and he was about 10 minutes away and to call the vet. I hoped and prayed that this would be a one off event for him. It was not. I put a blanket over him and did my best to calm him and talk to him, but I knew in my heart that we were tragically losing our boy. As soon as Aaron got home, we were en route to the vet. Sawyer never came out of his seizure, and my vet delivered the news that Aaron and I already knew was coming: it was time to say goodbye. Once we got to the vet, his passing was peaceful and the staff was caring.
I write this, and it probably seems like I’m a tad disconnected. Please know that’s not the case. I’m still honestly trying to process how we lost our boy so quickly and so tragically. He had perked up so much over the last week that I really thought we were turning a corner for the better. A seizure was not on my radar – or my vet’s radar.
We are so thankful to have had one last really good week with Sawyer, but it doesn’t take away the complete and utter sense of loss that has accompanied his death. Aaron and I are just devastated that we are entering into a stage of life that doesn’t include Sawyer.
Sawyer was 13(ish) years old. We don’t know his exact age because I rescued him from the Georgetown Humane Society in 2011. The vet estimated he was about 3. I spent 10 glorious years with Sawyer, so this makes it really tough to adequately put into words everything he meant to me and my family.
He was with me through my highest highs in life – and all the lows that accompany a transition into adulthood. I credit him for meeting my husband (Aaron and I met at the dog park). To know Sawyer was to love him. He gave the best hugs and never turned down a pet. He was a true velcro golden. He brought a smile to my face every single day I had him.
And so now, our house is too quiet, and a piece of our hearts are gone. I am glad that he’s not suffering, and I feel confident in knowing it was his time. I wish it could have been on less traumatic terms, but we cannot dwell on the past. We’ve spent the last week trying to pick up the pieces. I’m forever grateful to my family and friends who have helped us remember our Soy Boy so well over the last couple of days. I’ve had friends and neighbors drop off flowers and cards, cookies and ice cream – and wine. And, they really helped us get through this past week.
Buttercup, our lab, is having an incredibly difficult time. She watched the the seizure happen, and she saw how devastated I was in the moment. I’m sure she was scared and confused. She’s grieving her brother and friend just as much as we are. She probably spent the most time with Sawyer over the years, and she is a bit lost without him. We aren’t ready to bring another dog into the picture just yet – one day, yes, but we all need some time to heal. We are doing our best to keep our routine for Buttercup, with some extra treats and toys thrown in for good measure.
I’ll remember Sawyer forever. I think that pets are some of life’s greatest teachers, and I would love to continue to share stories about Sawyer – and the lessons that he taught Aaron and I throughout the years. So, thank you for listening. Once again, I’m so glad to have resurrected this little corner of the internet that I started so many years ago.