on Death

Wilson was a great companion, and one that I was not even sure I wanted. He was born on the streets of Mexico and in bad health when he was taken in by the San Felipe Animal Rescue. He was a feisty little guy who could sense I was skeptical about him, but he worked furiously to win me over. And he did.. I finally consented and he joined the family/pack in Arizona in 2009. He then moved with me/us to Oregon, back to Arizona then out to Western Massachusetts in the most incredible and crazy trip with 3 sisters, 8 other dogs, and 2 cats. His life changed dramatically with each of these moves (as all of ours did) and we had many sad goodbyes to the rest of the pack over the years.

When Asher came into the world, Wilson’s role changed. It became the three of us, and I was afraid he would feel like he was in second place, but he took his role as protector very seriously. Sometimes a bit too seriously… But as he got older, and Asher became more independent, Wilson was able to relax. Unfortunately, that was about the same time his health also started to deteriorate; pancreatitis, kidney disease, inflammatory bowel disease, and allergies galore.. The meds were piling up and his kidneys couldn’t keep up.

We had many adventures. He and Asher were best buddies. But as I said before, Wilson took his protector role very seriously. He would always lead the way on hikes to make sure the path was clear, then pause to wait for us so our “pack” was always together. Even in playing, he would never chase after Asher, just watch him running, to make sure he was safe. If Asher fell, Wilson would always check in on him lick his face incessantly if he cried… he was very worried about tears. Asher hated being licked by him, but Wilson continued anyways. At the end of the day, when Asher went to bed, Wilson would follow and lay at his feet. They’d wiggle together, in a snuggled mess in the middle of the bed with sheets and blankets in disarray. I have many pictures… so many pictures… 

As Wilson grew more sick, I made comments to Asher about how Wilson would not be with us forever. He knew. We both knew he would die “someday”. I hoped that he would pass on his own terms, quietly some night in his sleep.. I told him that he had done enough; if he was ready to leave, he could leave without regret… but he held on. Every trip to the vet brought a new anxiety, but it was our new normal.

The News

I wasn’t prepared for the call about his lab results. They were bad and we needed to make a decision. It was getting close to the weekend and waiting 3 days was inhumane.

But how do you tell a kiddo that?

How do you explain that it’s okay to take a life out of compassion?

How do you keep your composure to have this kind of conversation?

I had read somewhere that when you talk about death with kids to use the proper words to actually speak about “death” and “dying”, to not belittle it to “falling asleep” or it can instill a  fear of others dying while they’re asleep.. So I wanted to be as clear/honest with him as I could be. Sleep was already an issue. I had JUST gotten Asher to sleep in his own bed the night before for the first time since the pandemic hit us. I surely did not want to spread this fear of sleep and death any further…

The one thing I do know was that it is important to tell these things face to face with limited distractions, so when I picked Asher up at the end of our work/school days, I endured the car ride home in relative silence as he told me about his day and played games on my phone. Wilson was in the front seat as my copilot, curled in a ball sleeping, and I pet him in quiet tears all the way home.

We got home and settled in. Wilson went upstairs to his comfy spot on my bed to curl up and sleep some more. Then I sat on the couch and told Asher I needed to tell him something sad, but I really needed him to listen to me so that he understood what I was saying. He nodded in agreement, but insisted on laying on his giant Teddy Bear in the middle of the floor while we talked. This was definitely the time for taking comfort in a stuffy.

I talked very slowly and steadily while telling him that Wilson was more sick than we thought. And when pets get sick it’s hard because they can’t talk to us to tell us what’s wrong. Sometimes they get so sick we can’t help them anymore. But it’s not good to wait, because we don’t want them to be in any pain. So after we try everything we can, and find out it’s still not working, the vet helps them by giving them a shot that puts them to sleep.. but it’s more than just sleep, it’s such a deep sleep that while they’re asleep and not in any pain, they die and never feel pain again. While I was speaking I could see the wheels turning, but he was half smiling, rolling around on the teddy, pausing for eye contact periodically..

I continued on and said that I talked to the vet today for a long time about everything we did for Wilson and decided together that there wasn’t anything left we could do. He’s too sick. So he’s going to the vet tomorrow to get his final shot. My voice cracked with that last sentence…

He stopped rolling.

He buried his head into the teddy and started crying.

I asked him if I could pick him up, to please com sit on my lap, and was crying myself by then. He got up onto my lap, put his head on my shoulder and started balling… then screaming. It was a sound and a sorrow I have never heard before.

We cried together. In brief pauses we wiped each other’s tears. But if I opened my mouth in attempts to offer any comfort, he put his hand up to my lips to stop me. He didn’t want words. I realized he didn’t want me to “make it better”. I couldn’t make it better with words. It was sad, it was awful, and he needed to feel this, to work through it. So we just cried some more.

Eventually, all I could blubber out was that I was sorry, that I wished we could do more for him.

He cupped my cheeks in his hands and touched our foreheads together as we cried some more..

Eventually the tears lessened and I asked him if he had any questions.

I told him that we may eventually, but right now we need some time to let our hearts heal first so we can make sure to love the next dog fully too.

He nodded, but I could tell he was concerned. I asked if he had any other questions and he said no. But I told him to please ask me any time he has a question or tell me if there is something he wants to talk about.

We sat and cuddled for a little bit longer… until he farted.
And apparently that was just enough to lighten the mood and he started playing a bit.

I eventually got up and heated some dinner for us. He stayed on the couch, watching some TV, and we ate without saying much.

As it got later, I realized I had to give Wilson some of his medicines. So I told Asher I was going upstairs and would be right back. He nodded. But as soon as I made it upstairs, I could hear him crying, sobbing. I comforted Wilson, gave his meds and came downstairs to find Asher in tears and shaking. I assured him Wilson is okay right now and the meds I was giving him were to help him be comfortable. He nodded. But continued to cry to the point of almost puking.

We made it through and he got some of his favorite candy for dessert. It was my attempt to make things nice, even though they were awful.

When it was time to go to bed, we went upstairs together. I asked Asher if he wanted to go see Wilson and talk with him. He said no. He told me that while I was making dinner, he had gone upstairs by himself and talked with Wilson alone, and said what he needed to say.

While getting ready for bed, Asher started asking more questions.
The tough questions always start with a stutter…

“Mommy? Wha- What- What will– What will happen to Wilson when he dies?” he asked as we’re putting on his pajamas.

I told him that a lot of people believe a lot of different things, but I believe that our spirits are able to leave our body when our body is done living, then and they go find other spirits they know, so they can all be together. So, Wilson is going to see Callie and Smokey again tomorrow! His face lit up when I asked if he remembered them. Then I added- But also, that means we’ll get to see him again too someday, right? He smiled and nodded again.

While going potty/ washing hands, he asked “Will Wilson remember us after he dies? I mean when we see him again?” Me- “Oh yes of course! He had a long life with us and will never forget us. His favorite job was being your protector.. He won’t ever forget you” He smiled- “Yeah… He worked hard. He deserves a long break..”
“Yes, yes he does…” I said, as my eyes welled up.

Then while brushing teeth, “If Wilson is still here in spirit, then we can still take him for walks, right?” I responded, well yes, we can take walks and still go on adventures and his spirit will come with us, I’m sure!” He thinks for awhile… “then he’s really not leaving. Like he’s still going to be here?” “Well, yes” I answered, “His spirit will still be with us and we will feel him, maybe even hear him sometimes, or think we see his tail wagging, but his body won’t be with us anymore.” That seemed to be enough and we went to bed.

After Asher fell asleep, in my bed again, I went downstairs to have some time to myself, but he woke multiple times, crying and calling for me with that sad, fearful cry of loss. Wilson lay at his feet but could not offer his comfort licks this time.

I was able to bring Wilson out for his nightly potty break in between Asher’s cries. But when we came in for the night, Wilson went to sleep on Asher’s bed, alone, while Asher slept in mine. As I said before, Wilson does not do too well with crying and although I wish we could have had one last night of cuddles, I understood his need to sleep quietly… Luckily, the rest of the night was (mostly) restful.

The Last Adventure

When we woke the next morning Asher looked around for Wilson frantically and asked where he was. When I assured him that he was sleeping in his room, Asher sighed and asked if we were going to have time with him today, before…. I told him that Lily and Paul and Juniper were all coming over and we were going to go an one last adventure walk together. He sat up in bed and smiled and said “You know, this is a sad day… but also the best day too.”

I asked him what made it the best day for him and he said because everyone was going to be here and we’d all be together. And I smiled because he was right. And then I cried… and he cupped my cheeks in his hands and touched our foreheads together.

But he was right. It was the best day in that we could spend it together and all have time with Wilson. We all walked in the Montague Plains and talked about memories and cried. We also saw some big red tailed hawks that were signs to us of those on the other side, ready and waiting for Wilson with open arms.

We were still a little uncertain how it would go when it was time to go to the vet. COVID policies had changed things so much.. Only one person was allowed into the exam room with Wilson, the others would have to wait outside. Asher kept changing his mind if he wanted to go home or wait in the parking lot with the others for me to come out. There was a lot of back and forth, but he eventually decided to come with us and wait outside with the others.

When we got to the Vet, Asher stayed in the car. He barely made eye contact and couldn’t bring himself to pet Wilson. But I didn’t push it too much. I knew he had already said what he needed to. It was all a bit too much for him and he needed to process this in his own way. When I got out of the car with Wilson and said goodbye to everyone, we gave Asher a wave, and he gave a little wave back. He diverted his eyes down to his lap again and that was that.

When I came out after, everyone was out to their cars and waiting by the tree line in the parking lot. They had gone for a little walk and returned with a heart shaped leaf to give to me. Asher came to me first to present me with the leaf and a big hug. I kneeled down for his hug and as I started to cry, he pulled back to cup my cheeks and pet my face.

He’s an amazing boy and didn’t shed any tears this day. He seemed to find resolve in the fact that Wilson was still with us. That even if Wilson’s body was gone, he’s still here.

The rest of the day he made reference to Wilson still being with us.
“Did you hear that? I heard his soul(spirit) upstairs, Mommy.”
Later, as I sat on the couch watching tv, Asher asked, “If Wilson were on the couch there next to you, would you be petting him?” I looked over at the blanket Wilson used, still sitting in the corner of the couch, and said, “yes I’m sure I would be…” 
“Ok, then I’m going to do this for him…” He walked over to the blanket and air-pet the imaginary Wilson… “I think his spirit would like that.” he said with a smile.

Of course there were funny ones too… “Mom did you fart?? Maybe that was Wilson’s spirit…”

Toward the end of the day he stopped in the middle of the living room and air pet Wilson’s spirit again. “See mom? I’m giving him more pets…”

Asher still wanted to go with his dad for the weekend… And really, the distraction would be good for him. So when his dad came to pick him up, we all sat in the living room and played with magnetic tiles and talked for awhile. Asher told him Wilson had died and we talked again about his spirit and how he was still here with us.

The question of burial or cremation and ashes came up. Although I attempted to explain it, I knew that was crossing a line into “too much to process” and we needed to wait. We agreed to check in periodically over the weekend, then gathered his things and off he went.

That night was the first time I had been home alone without any other living being in the house with me, in about 12 yrs… The reality hit me hard and the loss felt unbearable.

I was able to grieve through my own process and not through the role of a mother. To feel the loss of my companion. To feel the loss of structure of his med routine, feeding schedule and bathroom breaks. To realize how much my life really DID revolve around caring for him and more recently his health… and the weight of that responsibility was suddenly gone. But it didn’t feel freeing… not yet anyway…

I’m sure that time will come, when I will breath a little easier, where I will let go little by little of the pain in his memory. I’m also well aware that grief is not linear and the loss may hit Asher later, differently.

But for now We’ll take it one day at a time. And I will continue to be thankful that I have such an amazing little boy, who holds so much love and light in his heart.