Saverio and the Aging Process-Part IV-R.I.P.

My last three posts about my precious Saverio dealt with the process of his aging. This post, unfortunately, deals with the sudden decline and death of my dearly beloved furry child of 16 years. It was only this past Wednesday, 12/2/2015, he had to be humanely put to sleep. I am still in shock, still reeling, still in a state of utter grief as I write this post in a too quiet, lonely house.

I want to believe he is sleeping somewhere on his many comfortable places in my home, whether it be the living room couch, his doggy bed in the kitchen, or the large ottoman in my den/TV room. But, alas, he is not there anymore. He is gone. My littlest of constant companions no longer is there for me to rush home to let him out or to feed him or give him treats or fresh water, or to give him my love.

Now, when I'm about to run an errand, my immediate thoughts are Where is Saverio? as always, and then my heart sinks into the depths of despair when my brain comes back to reality.

Today is the very day, 16 years ago, we first brought him home as an energetic darling little puppy of 8 or so weeks old. So, today, appropriately, is the day that I somberly write this post.

Three days before his death he developed a God-awful cough---almost croup-like in nature---that seemed to engulf his entire little body almost constantly. The night before he died, he'd wake up coughing and wheezing every hour. My husband consoled him on and off all night. We called the Vet, of course. They said 1 pm. appointment. They also said a highly contagious canine upper respiratoy infection was circulating in the area. I thought, Good. That's all it is. But my husband silently knew better.

I've been ill of late so my husband thought it best I stay home. He took Saverio to the Vet for the 1 pm appointment. Diagnosis: Enlarged heart. Water around his heart. Congestive Heart Failure. His heart was now pushing against the trachea. He wouldn't survive even a chest x-ray. It was decided then and there that Saverio would never go home again, the human thing to do. My husband was distraught beyond words. He managed to call me to tell me. I fell apart. He told me not to drive. To not come. The Vet was ready to prep my baby for eternal sleep. They wouldn't wait. Or would they had I insisted? I was too weak, too hysterical to drive. Maybe I would've gotten into an accident for the 15-20 minute ride there, or maybe not. Who knows? I will never know.

But I regret that decision. I said my goodbye through the phone. His little ears perked up, so I was told. He heard me. But, I am his Mommy. I want to hold him one more time. But I will never be able to do so.

My husband told me Saverio was ready. That precious dog would shake from nervousness every time he sensed a Vet appointment in his immediate future, every time he got inside the car he had the sense whether it was to be a fun outing or the dreaded Vet appointment.

This final trip to the Vet was different. Saverio did not shake, did not put up a fight, did not flinch at the prepping which would end his life. My husband held him through the entire awful procedure. I feel badly for my husband. He was a mess with grief but bravely focused on comforting the pet he loved so much to make it lovingly easier for him to pass over that "Rainbow Bridge".

My husband said he will never forget the look of serenity on Saverio's little face when he looked into my husband's eyes. Saverio was telling my husband that it was okay Daddy, he was ready, because the familiar failing eyesight cloudiness (the blue haze that forms over older dogs' eyes) all of a sudden just disappeared out of Saverio's eyes. His eyes were as crystal clear brown as when he was a mere puppy. Saverio was telling him that he was at peace with it and ready to go. My husband said that spiritual change in his eyes will haunt his memory forever.

Thing is, I wasn't ready to let him go. I desperately want one more day, one more minute, one more second of time with my darling little Saverio to send him across the Rainbow Bridge with a proper goodbye.

R.I.P. my darling little boy.

PEDIGREE NAME: LITTLE BITS HI-HO SAVERIO.

9/28/1999- 12/2/2015