Light out of Darkness.

8 weeks, 2 days, 8 hours and 22 minutes. That is when we lost Kodie. I still feel heartbroken, and as a family we effectively shut ourselves away as we dealt with the grief of losing our most beloved girl. And it’s taken all this time. We have both functioned as best we could when we have had to. Brave faces notwithstanding, there has been a lot of tears spilt as we relied on each other to pull each other up, when necessary, and to share, reflect and remember. She is still very close to the surface of our thoughts every day. But now the smiles outweigh the tears and the fond memories flood the thoughts of the end days.

Personally I am lucky to have the most amazing Wife in Shell. I knew she was getting ready to hold me up over the weekend. We knew this was coming as soon as we returned from Wales on the Sunday. The week prior we had had unusual behaviours and nothing solid! I will spare the details but bless her soul, she was waking us up 2-3 times in the night with the most beautiful bark, to go to the toilet but when she had done her business, acting as though she was looking for something or waiting for something. It was odd, made even stranger by the late hours. The flash of her amber eyes in the light of the head torch in the darkness now a fond memory.

And the few weeks prior to that she had begun to wake us up by barking! A brand new habit after 13 years!? And it melted both our hearts, as it was such a soft and gentle hitherto unheard of ‘RUFF’. She was so beautiful, I often thought of her as human, not canine. For 4 years I had been mentally preparing myself for this. At that time I had seen the x-ray of the distortion in her left hip, the abnormal growth spikes on her joints. And the vet had told me to restrict all exercise and that it was only a matter of time before she lost use of her rear legs. Metacam was prescribed, a powerful pain killer, and we slowly adjusted to a Doggo that couldn’t do what she had done all her life and live a life full of adventures.

But we adapted, walks went down initially to very slow 3 mile waddles, then 2, then 1, and less and less. She would still try to chase ‘Squizzers’ and we would still get a very odd looking lollop to greet you or when her excitement wouldn’t be contained. She was still happy, and still loved cuddles and kisses and continued to fill our hearts with pure joy!

The last 6 months we saw the beginning of the ‘leaky’ period. Initially it was very upsetting, she would relax her bladder when she went into deep sleep and we spent a few weeks adjusting and washing that big hairy bum. But we found a solution in Dog Nappies that I got from an eBay seller. They fitted perfectly and coupled with a large Tena panty liner, or at least, Aldi’s equivalent, we could carry on as if the demise of our beautiful girl wasn’t happening.

It's so strange to think how you adjust. How Love outweighs any hardship or unpleasantness. As, let’s be honest she was a little stinker toward the end! But we often talked about how we had come accustomed to the aroma, and in some strange way grew to like it. Perhaps it was a projection of comfort in that she was still around. Still begging, still snoring, still creating mess and still being so very excited to see you. Reassurance, any reassurance was a positive.

Monday, Shell surpassed all expectations as she took charge of the situation and rang the Vets. She also decided, which I will be eternally grateful for, that we put Kodie up on the bed with us. It was still early and the way things panned out that decision gave us 2 hours of intimacy with our girl as she rested and we smothered her with love, trying not to show our utter helplessness. But there is comfort in knowing the pain, discomfort and aching is about to end. There is an element of relief. And you will feel guilt for it. That you shouldn’t even consider those things, but you must and you should. If only we would afford Humans the same dignity at the end.

Due to Covid, we were able to make the final 30 minutes for Kodie as almost near perfect as possible. I had often felt anxious that Kodie would be going to the vets for her last moments, she really didn’t enjoy the visits since that initial x- ray and all the prodding and pulling that (with hindsight) must have been very painful for her. But due to social distancing we could not enter the veterinary building, and after a quick examination and chat with the Vet it was decided that Kodies last moments would be with us in the back of the van. I can’t tell you how happy this made me. With the way that we had entered the car park of the building and the subsequent move to the bottom of the car park for a little more privacy Kodie hadn’t seen the veterinary once and was unaware she was there.

So wrapped in her big red fluffy blanket she was happy to lie in the back of the van with us sat either side of her desperately trying to not show her our building grief and heartbreak. The Vet had prepped her ready for the dose of anaesthesia that would send her to sleep and asked us to just step away whilst he administered the drug. We then returned to be by her side for the final time. What felt like an age but was in fact seconds passed and she gently slipped away from us.

It’s hard to write this even now, those final moments and the overwhelming feelings that engulfed us are still so fresh and raw. There is truth in the adage that ‘at least she isn’t suffering anymore’, and I am so grateful for that. But I miss her so, so much. Kodie had given my life a meaning when it had none, she had made me smile when there wasn’t anything to smile about. I honestly believe that if it wasn’t for her my life would be very different now, and definitely not in a good way.

Whatever we were facing or enduring, she managed to bring out the best in me, and she never ever judged me for the numerous bad decisions I made. I am ever so grateful that she got to see me happy, and I cherish those months that Shell, slowly and effortlessly fell in love with Kodie and Kodie her. We got to be a happy family unit, full of laughter, adventure and love.

So our adjustment to three continues, Shadow is still struggling not having his older sister to help him navigate (literally) and he his feeling her loss as equally as ourselves. It’s not easy but we are pouring ourselves into creative projects, and rekindling our love of walking. Our little girl will forever be in our hearts and will never be forgotten…..