How do I even begin?
I will try with a simple word of thanks to all who have reached out to us the past 2 days. It has been a great source of comfort for Alex and I to know so many care for us and respect the loss that has occurred within our little family. It helps to have something to hold onto when all feels so hopeless. I have grasped onto all of your words of love and compassion, they mean more than you know.
I have lost things I loved before and it never gets easier. You never become accustomed to having your heart broken. I keep thinking that with age and wisdom I will become a more graceful human, but I am messy. I am in pieces and I hurt. I was so worried about having 5 dogs in the house before adopting Pogue, and now that there is 4 it seems so empty. There are open spaces wherever I look and the feeling of something missing and I wonder how I ever worried about something so silly like a head count of canines under this roof. There could be a hundred dogs here right now and I still am missing one.
We did not know Fiona was sick until Monday. I say that from a clinical standpoint. But in the hindsight that is always clearer, Alex and I both knew. When you live your lives loving your animal companions so deeply, you know when something is off. I had made excuses that were solid, very understandable. I blamed her maturing and slowing down, her ambiguous setter-thyroid, the heat that day, the hyper new puppy in the house causing her to retreat to be by herself. It all looked so fathomable on paper, but in my conscious I knew and I kept my fears deep inside a well of denial. Simply because anything else would cause the pain I am drowning in today.
Our animal companions speak to us in so many ways. While I know it is a privilege to understand them on such a deep level and enjoy the bounty of that understanding, I also have to acknowledge the gift in hearing the truth when you do not want to hear it. The truth behind our beautiful creature's eyes was one of pain, and there was no choice but to relieve her of it. I know some will question that decision, especially with my background and knowledge in veterinary medicine. It is a blessing and a curse to work behind those exam room walls at the vet clinic. With every cure there is a loss and the circle keeps rotating and you jump on and off the ride as long as you can keep your balance. For those that work in animal health care you know of what I speak, you can recognize those around you who should have jumped off the ride long ago, jaded and no longer able to feel. I left the field before I became that, and this is part of that deal. I still feel with every ounce of my being, my blessing and my curse.
Fiona came to us out of nowhere, one of life's most happy surprises. A dog in a poorly run shelter in the middle of acres of farmland, I was only supposed to assess her for adoptability so she could be placed into foster care. Just an informal temperament test, just another volunteer duty. We smelled the facility a half mile before we saw the structure. The shelter staff so untrained they did not know what an English Setter was when I asked to see her. They pointed to a room with a dirt floor and no heat and pens and pens of dogs and told me to see if I could find the setter. I found a setter. Fiona was all a happy setter should be, even in the worst of circumstances. She hopefully licked my fingers through a chain link gate and quickly bewitched Alex with her deep cocoa eyes. While I attempted to "assess" her temperament and give her a mini-health screening, Alex announced we were taking her home forever. I was thinking like a seasoned dog person and my husband as usual was thinking with his heart.
I had to remember to do the same yesterday...to think with my heart. In my head I knew we could start cutting cancer out, do chemo and try to buy time. But ultimately, the time we would be buying would be for ourselves and Fiona deserved more than that. Fiona was most happy when running free and off leash. At our dog park she would bound over the prairie grass effortlessly with that long field setter tongue out the side of her mouth, trying to play catch up with the rest of her. This was how I wanted to remember her, not in a vet hospital with an IV drip.
I brought her home Monday night and brushed her even though she hated being brushed, I always told her she was the face of a collar company and must look her best. I put a brand new collar on her and whispered to her softly how much she was loved and how she will always be our "Sweet Fee" Alex fed her ice cream and we sat with her on the floor and stroked those lovely spotty ears. Yesterday morning the tornado sirens went off at 6:00 a.m. and I awoke to a feeling of dread that had nothing to do with the impending bad weather. I don't remember going to the vet, but we got there. At 9:00a.m. we set her free and I know in her heart, even with a tumor encasing it, she loved us for letting her go, for letting her run free forever. I asked our other dogs that have passed to meet her at the bridge and for my sister Mary, whom Fiona was named in honor of to care for her on the other side.
We will move on slowly from this loss and I am incredibly grateful to all who have contacted us to share their thoughts and love. I am especially humbled by those that have donated to OESR (www.ohioenglishsetterrescue.org) in her name. I hope through these donations, other homeless setters can be as lucky as Fiona was. I did not know how many people and their animals have been influenced however small in life by our dear Fiona. I realize how lucky we are for this.
~ Shannon & Alex
