Rant Time 3

I Lost My Beloved Bear

Today, Sunday, November 12th, 2017, I lost my 13-year-old dog, Bear. It was a long battle he had to fight, but it eventually became too much and none of us, especially him, could take anymore.

It started earlier this year. He started losing weight but still had a ravenous appetite. He'd already lost some muscle tone and shook when he stood. A year ago, he had an episode where he couldn't walk at all. By this summer, he couldn't control his bladder and began going blind with cataracts.

We finally decided it was best to end his suffering. I didn't want to, but we had to, for his health. He was ill and suffering and that wasn't fair to him.

I'd been dreading this day for a year. When we thought we would have to put him to sleep last year, that was it for me. He held on for exactly a year longer before he couldn't anymore. Now I feel the heartbreak I was dreading to feel. Nothing has ever hurt as bad as this.

I brought him to my room to tell him how much I loved him and that it wasn't his fault he was old and hurting. We put him in the car for the last time and took him to the vet who's taken care of him since day one. It was heartbreaking to say we were there for his final appointment.

The vet has known me since I was a baby myself. Bear was just a puppy when I was about three or four. When he sedated Bear to get him to calm down, he looked at me, rested his hand on my shoulder, and gave me a sad smile. He said it's harder for me than anyone else because I've been with Bear all the way. I grew up with Bear and when he grew into an adult, I was almost a tween. When he was elderly, I was a teenager and almost a full adult.

He was like my child, my baby. My mom raised him with me, like he was my brother. But then I started taking over and he became mine just as much as hers. He was part of the family and always will be. I remember naming him. His original name was Little Bear, after this cartoon show on Noggin I loved. Then he wasn't so little, so we shortened it to just Bear.

But all things pass.

Around 12:30 pm on November 12th, 2017, Bear succumbed to euthanasia. It was quick and painless for him. He died wrapped up in my mom and I's arms. He was still so warm, as if I was going to sleep with him at night. My mom took his death hard, too. She sobbed and sobbed, apologizing to him for having to do this. Neither of us wanted this to happen, but he was in pain. I don't think we understood that in the moment.

I cried on him. It was the most heartbreaking moment of my life. He was still and I had to close his eyes. My mom and I were so grief-stricken. I've never seen my mom cry so hard before. But it was like losing another child. Bear was a precious part of her and to see that happen traumatized her.

I don't know how many times I kissed Bear and told him I love him, even after he was long gone. I will always love him and I'll never forget him or the day we lost him.

It's been a long journey with Bear, but the worst part is when the journey has to end. I'll never forget being a little girl and loving him more than my toys. I'll never forget being a depressed tween and him comforting me. I'll never forget being a teenager and watching him take his last breath.

I know it was for the best and he's no longer suffering, but I'll always have pain lingering. From birth to death, Bear was my ride or die. Now he's died and a huge part of me went with him.

I'll never forget my precious baby.

2004/2005

2017

Rest In Peace, Little Bear. You will always be loved and remembered.

~
Sierra ❤🌙