When the critical care doctor brought Rigby to me last Wednesday for our final goodbye, my heart broke apart seeing his
sedated body wrapped in a blanket. I couldn’t bare to look directly into his adorable face but I held his head in my hands as the doctor first flushed the catheter and then administered the overdose of anesthesia that would still his heart forever. It took only a few minutes, but they were excruciating because a piece of my heart went with him and I still hurt today, over a week later, in a way that I never would have dreamt possible.
I hurt because it was painful seeing Rigby so vulnerable. And I hurt because I now realize that when he’d frequently stop in his tracks during our walks the last few months, he wasn’t being stubborn Rigby. Something was happening in his lungs and he needed to regroup.
His lungs were in good shape in April, when we had them x-rayed. It was the mitral valve in his heart that had lost some function, a fairly common genetic condition in Norfolk Terriers. The cardiologist didn’t think Rigby needed any kind of treatment yet. When Rigby became sluggish last Monday, and wasn’t anxiously racing to get to his bowl of food, I became worried, thinking his heart had taken a turn for the worse.
We went to the hospital on Tuesday, but the X-rays showed that Rigby’s lungs, not his heart, were under stress. They needed to find out why and get him into an oxygen tent to help him breathe more comfortably. They also started him on antibiotics In case had had pneumonia or some other infection.
Rigby stayed at the hospital overnight, and things were looking up the next day. It appeared the medication and oxygen therapy were working, but they still wanted to learn what was up in his lungs. He’d be in the hospital at least another day, the doctor told me, but if he continued to progress he’d be able to come home in a day.
We never found out what was wrong. The doctor called me at 7 last Wednesday evening to tell me Rigby had taken a turn for the worse. She was starting him on new medications, but if he didn’t improve during the next half hour, she didn’t want to hook him up to a device so he could breathe.
Although Rigby is no longer here with me, I still feel his “presence.” I think of him lying in the small bathroom to keep cool, while I worked in the living room. I think of him in his round corduroy bed on the floor in my bedroom, where he’d curl up when we retired upstairs each night. I think of him eyeing every morsel of food I ate, waiting for me to share it with
him. I think of him when I was getting ready to go out and he’d look at me with soulful eyes because he knew he wasn’t joining me.
Rigby wasn’t a cuddly, affectionate dog, but he didn’t have a mean bone in his body, and he’d wag his little tail even when he must have been in distress.
We brought Rigby home with us when he was five months old, and his heart stopped beating when he was almost 12. I understand now how most people feel when a pet is gone. I knew a woman who had three cats, but when she developed allergies she “got rid” of the cats without a moment’s hesitation or sadness. They were better off without her.
0 Responses to “Goodbye Rigby”
BeckyJo says:
I’m so sorry about your loss of Rigby and I understand exactly how you feel. We lost our Pekingese, Ninja, to kidney failure in June-we got him when he was 3 years old as a rescue from a puppy mill and had to treat him as a puppy as he’d never been housebroken, leash trained and was not even used to human interaction. He passed just a few weeks before 14 years old, so he had a long, happy life with us. We wrapped him in his favorite blanket and he is now resting in a corner of our rose garden.
Geri Brin says:
Hi Becky Jo, Ninja was a lucky Pekingese to be adopted by you. Thank you for writing.
Fondly,
Geri
Suzanne Carter says:
So sorry for the loss of your beloved Rigby!
Geri Brin says:
Thank you, Suzanne.
Fondly, Geri
Diane Popper says:
Geri, I’m so very sorry to read that your sweet Rigby crossed over the rainbow bridge. May his memory be for a blessing.
Geri Brin says:
Hi Diane, I appreciate your kind words. Fondly, Geri
Cathy McIvor says:
Pets are so much a part of our daily lives. They give us a reason to get up in the morning, they give us joy when we come home from working a long day. My sweet Leroy, my beautiful parakeet I had the honor of pampering and taking care of for 14 years, passed away in July. He had a special tweet for me when I came home; he was always so glad to see me. I will always miss him. I feel for you, Geri.
Geri Brin says:
Thank you, Cathy. I love the name Leroy for a parakeet. Sorry you lost him. Fondly Geri
LindaKish says:
I’m so sorry for the loss of your Rigby. I know how sad you must be feeling. My little min pin, Puppy, is 17 now and is slowing down. He looks as good as ever but I know he is not. So, I just keep giving him as much love as I can for as long as I have him. He was 4 when I adopted him after my previous adopted min pin passed away at 14.
Geri Brin says:
Hi Linda, My son’s cat is 17
and she had a stroke this year (not as serious in cats as in humans). She limps at times and my son says it hurts him to see her that way. I know just how he feels. A friend of mine said pets are like babies throughout their lives. They rely on us for everything and they can’t tell us what’s wrong. After you’ve been “on call” for them every day for years, it’s pretty dramatic when suddenly you’re not.
Geri