My Four-Legged Soulmate

If you have ever had the pleasure of having a dog in your life, then you have undoubtedly felt the tremendous sadness of losing one.

For some people, dogs come and go throughout their lives, leaving no lasting sense of grief. But there are those of us who quite simply love our canine companions as we have never loved any other living being … EVER. They are our babies, our joys and, at certain dark times in our lives, our only reasons for getting up in the morning. They are sources of pure unconditional love. Their capacity for extending this love somehow enables us to extend it to them in return. We love them no matter what. And when their time inevitably comes to pass, we feel incredibly lost without them.

But amidst the heart-wrenching loss filled with worry and anguish, sometimes loss can bring with it the gift of a profoundly beautiful experience. This is what happened to me.

I lost my “li’l man”… my “happiness” as I called him…my beloved companion, Aries. There are very few moments when I do not miss him. Our journey together began when he was 10 weeks old and sadly ended much earlier than expected, a week prior to Boxing Day, his eighth birthday. His gentle, loving soul touched my own soul — and the souls of others — so profoundly. He was my sidekick. My four-legged soulmate. Two years have past since that day. A day that will live within my heart forever.

My month and a half journey of worry and sorrow leading up to Aries’ death began one beautiful sunny morning. I had taken him out for his morning outing when I glanced down and noticed that he was peeing blood, lots of it. My heart sank. I immediately called the vet and arranged an appointment for that afternoon. The vet examined him and took a urine and fecal sample for further investigation. We were sent home to await the results, which would take a few days. In the meantime, I was instructed to monitor his peeing — I took it upon myself to actually collect samples in clear little plastic containers just to see if the amount of blood would subside.

His urine was completely black with no sign of letting up. For three weeks this continued, oddly with no other symptoms or signs of discomfort. Within that time, I received the results from the vet and was called in for further testing. X-rays were taken. It looked like Aries might have a tumor in one of his kidneys.

Because he was otherwise healthy and exhibiting no discomfort, I was told it was entirely possible they could remove the damaged organ and he could live quite a long, happy and healthy life with just one kidney. However, my vet wanted to run further tests to make sure the tumor had not spread to any other areas.

In between visits, Aries began to show signs that something was not quite right. Some days he was lethargic and didn’t want to go for walks. Other days, he seemed fine but still not one hundred percent himself.

Then one morning he wouldn’t get out of bed. I quickly realized he was having trouble moving. Tearfully, I carefully scooped him up and carried him down the stairs to the front lawn for his morning pee. When I set him down, he collapsed head first into the ground. I was beside myself. He couldn’t move at all. With great difficulty, I picked him up and carried all 60 lbs of his limp weight back up the stairs. Bawling with fear, I immediately called my best friend Jenica for help. She and her partner rushed over and drove me to the hospital.

It turned out Aries was severely dehydrated so the vet kept him on IV and under observation for a couple of days. When I picked him up, he was so happy to see me. I sat on the floor with him to love him up, and he tackled me to the ground and pressed his entire body weight against me. Gleefully, he washed my face with his tongue, wagging his tail so frantically that his whole body wiggled from side to side. Everyone was laughing as I lay flat on my back, pinned to the hospital lobby floor by a 60 lb Pit Bull on my chest.

The next leg of our journey took us to the animal hospital in Vancouver for yet more tests. The test showed Aries did indeed had a large tumor in his kidney. The vet had also detected something in one of his lungs. The moment those words came out of his mouth, however painful the thought, my decision was made.

If it had just been the kidney, perhaps Aries would still be here. But his chances of recovering from lung cancer as well were not good. My spirit collapsed as I tried to wrap my head and heart around the reality I now faced. In that moment, I resigned myself to giving him the best last days of his existence, and when the time came I would not let him suffer.

From the very beginning of this sorrowful journey, I had an 8×10 photo of Aries and his teddy posted by the till at the restaurant where I worked, with a sign letting people know that my beloved li’l man was very ill, asking them to send him some positive healing vibes.

A few close friends and I even spent an evening gathered around him in a healing circle on my living room floor. For a month and half, Aries and I received tremendous love, sympathy and support from everyone.

One lady in particular, a customer I could only remember serving a few times, was very moved by what I was going through, so much so that she arrived at my work one day with the sole purpose of handing me a Christmas card. I was so touched that I welled up with tears as she told me how she had been deeply moved by my sign and felt my pain.

I gave her a great big hug and thanked her. I went out back to open the card in front of a close friend/co-worker. As I opened the card, both of our jaws dropped. In it was $300 and a lovely note expressing that what I was going through was hard enough without having to worry about money this time of the year. She also included the number for the mobile vet and said they had really helped her when the time had come to say goodbye to her furry companion. To this day, I am amazed at this selfless gesture of a complete stranger.

We went through a couple of weeks or so of Aries having good days and bad days. The time inevitably came when his bad days became more frequent. Until one day…the worst day of all. He was so skinny by this time, curled up on the couch, looking absolutely miserable. I sat in front of him, petting and kissing him, crying. I plucked up the courage to ask him what he wanted. Was it time to say goodbye? In that moment he perked up and kissed my face. I burst into even more tears as I asked him again, just to be sure. He confirmed this with yet another kiss. I lost it! I was a complete mess. I called Jenica and she came over to spend his last night with the both of us.

The decision had been made. Aries had made it. It had been planned in advance that a few close friends who wanted to be there would be present for his last moments. In the morning, we called these friend and the mobile vet. It was 11am on December 19th, 2007. But when we had woken that morning, Aries was so happy and full of life that I was so torn as to whether I should proceed or not. I called the vet and explained Aries’ condition — I wasn’t sure I wanted to go through with it. The vet’s office explained that I didn’t have to, but that the vet could come by anyway and go over what the process entailed. I agreed.

Everyone had arrived early and was spending some Q-time loving up my boy until the vet arrived. Aries was so happy to see everyone, including the vet. He wagged his tail the whole time, even sniffing her open vet kit with great curiosity. We all sat huddled tightly on my living room floor listening to her as she explained the procedure: first, a sedative injection that would take about 20 minutes to kick in, during which time we could cuddle and love him up as much as possible. And then the final injection, which would be quick and painless.

She left the room to let me give it some thought. I was so torn. Aries was being so cute and so happy. Jenica reminded me that I didn’t want him to suffer, and that even if today was a good day, I knew another bad one was coming. My heart sank with resignation, and once again I asked my boy, who was laying in front of me, if it was time.

He immediately leapt up and washed my face with so much love and bliss, then proceeded to kiss every single person in the room (all seven of us) as if to say, “I love you all! Thank you so much for being here for my mum. I know she’s in good hands… it’s ok for me to go now.”

Then he left the room to get the vet and bring her back in, wagging his tail happily the entire time. We were dumbfounded! Speechless! I believe every single one of us burst into tears. The vet entered the room and said Aries didn’t really know what was going on, that he just sensed our sadness. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one thinking, “Hah lady! You have absolutely no idea what my dog just did!”

Abiding by Aries’ wishes, we all said our tearful goodbyes as he gently slipped away in my lap, surrounded by beautiful and amazing people. He was the most loving, intuitive creature I have ever had the pleasure of connecting with. He was indeed my four-legged soul mate. His illness had shown me how much love I had in all areas of my life. Even in his last moments he gave me — and all of us — the greatest gift. The gift of closure.

Namaste – Aries Lefave – Dec 26th 1999 to Dec 19th 2007

Photo Credits

Photos courtesy of Kylen O. Lefave

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