13/02/2023
Sweet Margot,
I knew the day we met that we would have to say goodbye. That’s how this fostering gig works. I just didn’t think it would be so soon or that we would lose you like this.
People usually asked if I was afraid of getting too attached. That’s the whole point, really. Our job was to love on you and work to show you that all humans aren’t bad humans and that not all homes are unsafe. We were to help you heal in so many ways.
We did not know much about you. We never knew your age or your birthday. All I knew that day I picked you up from Martha, is that your nails were so gnarled and curled under you could hardly walk. Your skin was bare and pink. Your ears filled with dirt, your teeth were rotted. You cried the whole 45 minute drive to the vet. I couldn’t help but ask “what have I gotten myself into?” When we sat down in the waiting room I wrapped you in a soft blanket and cuddled you in the waiting room. You got quiet.
Fast forward through months of care by Chihuahua Rescue of Indiana, Dr. Carter and his amazing team and Alyson from Rover. Our family fell in love with you and were so excited to meet you the first time. Orby became your partner in crime and Patsy tolerated you. Somewhere along the way it was decided that your hernia was not reparable and that you would be a hospice foster, meaning you’d stay with us forever.
Your forever wasn’t long enough.
Last week you were having trouble peeing, pacing around in great discomfort. The dad took you to the emergency vet. I went to bed convinced it was an infection, just needing some antibiotics. I got the call about an hour later & headed to the animal hospital in Fishers to meet you. They gave us the sad news that your bladder had fallen into your hernia and was being cut off. They talked to us about the options. We decided to come home and get some rest until we could talk to Dr. Carter. We snuggled on the couch, listening to the rhythm of your snoring…one last time.
I already knew.
We went back to the hospital and sat in the same sterile room with you in my arms. The surgeon came in and said fixing the hernia wasn’t an option. Your heart couldn’t take a surgery like that. My heart couldn’t take the alternative but that’s the decision that was made. They let me hold you, wrapped in a soft blanket, until you got quiet.
To say that we were a mess is no exaggeration. We were facing this heart wrenching loss and sobs that we were not expecting to be so guttural. As we drove away from the animal hospital with an empty lap, I wondered again, what had I gotten us into?
I am still circling the stages of grief. Sometimes angry as heck at the humans let you down. Wondering if I could have done anything differently. What if they had gotten to you sooner? The one answer I know for sure though is if I knew how everything would end, I’d still go back and do it all over again.
I hope you are lying in a real sunny spot and there are chicken jerky treats all around. I hope that breathing isn’t so hard. I hope your little paws are healed and you can run as fast as you want. I hope you can see and hear the wonderful world around you now. And I hope you know how deeply you are loved and missed.
I will never be the same.
With love,
The Lady
