5 Days
5 Days. 5 Days is all it took. 5 Days was enough. 5 Days that concluded with the breaking of my heart once again. Yes I have 11 dogs and yes it seems ridiculous to mourn the loss of one. But those 11 dogs aren’t just pets, or dogs. They are sentient little beings. Each one has its own personality, and quirks and mannerisms and special piece of my heart. Each one is one of my children. Each one raised from a young pup into an adult. And 5 Days was all it took to take one away; to steal them and to break my heart. This is not my first loss and I know it won’t be the last. My heart will break each time one is cruelly stolen from me whether I am ready for it or not and whether they reach old age or not before crossing over the rainbow bridge.
It all started on the evening of Thursday, 15 May at around 22:00 when little Ava started to cough. I took her into my trusted veterinarian, the Rant en Dat Animal Hospital, in Krugersdorp, first thing the next morning. She was examined by Dr Nicolette who told me she had contracted Kennel Cough regardless of being vaccinated against it many months prior to it.
She told me that there was a massive outbreak of Kennel Cough in the West Rand; all the way from the other side of Krugersdorp long past Fourways and dogs were being infected regardless as to whether or not they were vaccinated. It was some freak super-strain that was making dogs incredibly sick and could be equated with the Covid19 strain that was making humans incredibly sick and often killed them before an effective vaccine was developed.
She dosed Ava with three vaccines and gave three different types of meds for the next few days but told me to bring her in if she got worse or if we were worried. Overnight she got considerably worse and I raced her to the hospital and made sure I was there the minute it opened. I asked Emily, one of the administrative staff who has since become a friend; to let Dr Nicolette know I was there and waited to be called by her.
Dr Nicolette took one look at her and admitted her immediately. She couldn’t keep food, water, or medicine down so had become severely dehydrated, and her cough and struggle to breathe was now a full blown case of pneumonia. Yes, this is a possible complication of Kennel Cough but it is a rarity and given the timeframe it baffled all of us. I thought and thought and thought about how and where she would have caught it as she hadn’t been for a walk in months, we have 10 other dogs and not one of the others showed any signs or symptoms of Kennel Cough. My heart grew heavy and I was left with an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach and my mind started to focus on the worst of the what ifs as I drove home.
I made sure to visit her every single day for the next 4 days. Every time she saw me her little tail would wag but not long after each greeting her sickness would overpower her and I held her body close to my chest. She had a severe fever, vomited anything that was given to her in addition to thick sticky mucus, was on a drip, coughed and gagged continuously, was nebulised and given oxygen, and given every imaginable medicine under the sun; but nothing seemed to help her.
On the morning of the 5th day, I arrived at the arranged time and waited to be called to see her and be given an update. I waited round about 20 mins while they treated her, before one of the admin staff called me to follow them. Just as I opened the door Nurse Karin shouted “Oxygen, we need oxygen” and I was told to go back to the waiting area. After a while Nurse Karin returned and told me Ava was sedated and in theatre on a ventilator to help her breath as she was struggling to do it by herself. She would periodically be taken off the ventilator to see if she could breathe on her own, but she was unable to, so they would put her back on it again. I burst into tears and my fears started creeping further and further into my mind and heart and I knew she wasn’t going to make it. The Nurse Karin went back into the theatre where Dr Nicolette was working on Ava and trying to save her. Emily hugged me tightly and made me a sweet, milky rooibos tea.
Minutes that felt like hours passed and finally the Nurse Karin returned and told me to come into the theatre to talk to Dr Nicolette. She gave me a look of sadness and regret and gently said “I’m sorry but she is brain dead.” Tears streamed down my face and I said put her to sleep and let her rest. I lay my head next to hers and had my hand on the side of her chest and told her it was okay to go now and that she was brave and fought like a warrior but that it was time for her to let go, rest and move on.
Dr Nicolette looked at me once more with the syringe containing the meds that would allow Ava to pass on, in her hand, and didn’t need to say anything. I nodded at her, she administered the meds and in a matter of a second she was gone. I sat with her in my arms for as long as I could willing myself to let her go and asking her how I was supposed to leave without her. I said I was sorry I didn’t hug her enough, or give her enough attention or done enough for her. I told her how much I loved her and how I always would and that she would always be remembered as my Ava, my Baby, my Bubbles.
I didn’t know how to leave but knew I had to, and after about an hour I plucked up all the courage I could to get up and walk out of that room, the room where I lost her. As I walked out of the room I was met with condolences from all the staff members, saying how sorry they were for my loss and told to slip out the back and that they would email me the account and I could settle it when I was ready to. A day later I settled the bill and they had not ripped me off and charged a fraction of what other Veterinary Hospitals are renowned for doing as Rant en Dal and all their staff care more about animals and clients and their health, well being and happiness, than putting money in their pockets.
I drove the 40kms from Krugersdorp to my home in Johannesburg. I sobbed and sobbed and was so angry and hurt and confused. I couldn’t understand how or why this had happened and knew that Ava was gone forever. I called my wife, Landi, for the umpteenth time and asked her to inform all our loved ones that Ava was gone as I didn’t have it in me to do it. Some were very sympathetic knowing that to me a doggy was like a child to me and others not so much stating that it was just a dog which hurt me more than I can explain but I try not to hold a grudge against them for doing so. Some people understand and others not so much but at the end of the day this is my process, my grief, and I am the one who has to live with it.
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I’m two days short of the day Ava died and it hits me like a ton of bricks every day, not all day, but every day, and the tears form rivers down my face until there is nothing left. I hope with time this loss will become easier to bear as has been the case with all the other animals I had mothered over my nearly 40 years on earth. I think me writing this post is more about me trying to process what happened and to deal with my grief, then anything else. BUT if I can leave you with anything it’s to love a little deeper and a little longer and to show the people in your life and just as importantly your family and kids (human or animal) how much they mean to you before it’s too late and they are gone so you aren’t left with what if’s or regrets. For those of you who are dealing with your grief at the moment, whatever the cause is; be kind, be gentle, be understanding and know that the pain will subside but the memory and love will always remain. AND for those of you who aren’t dealing with grief be caring and kind to all those around you as you may never know what they are going through; and sadly and most humbling is the fact that at some points during the course of your life you too shall be faced with losses and grief; and it will be the turn of those you comforted and loved and supported to be there for you.
Once again thank you for baring with me. Be good to yourself and others. And above all…
Live in kindness. Live with hope.
