My children are 25 and 26. I was unable to have anymore children after my last one. For 12 years I cried and grieved over this loss that I felt. I told my husband in 1994 that I needed to adopt a child or get a pet to channel my love into, so in October 1994 he proceeded to look for me a puppy. Pomeranians have always been my favorite breed. Through a friend of a friend her was referred to a breeder. The breeder had a female who was still pregnant and wasn't due to have her pups until the 1st of November 1994. My husband explained what he was looking for, a male, and the reason he was buying it. They talked, and he talked the lady into letting him put Cujo on layaway. Cujo was the only male born to the litter ( a true gift from God). I'm serious. He paid his payments, and she held Cujo until Christmas Eve, and he presented me with my Cujo Bear, a little furball that weighed next to nothing. He looked just like a teddy bear. I had my eyes closed, and he was placed in my lap, and all I could feel was fur. When I saw him I cried, I couldn't believe what I saw...oh my God.....I grew a new heart. At that moment, my grieving for a baby ended. Cujo filled the void. I had him for 14 years this past Christmas. I am so heartbroken. I have cried for 6 days straight, have had numerous meltdowns, and I'm not sure how I'll ever get thru this grief, this hurt, this emptiness in my heart. This sounds bad, but this is harder on me than when I lost my parents. Cujo was so smart. He had his own float in the pool, his own lounge chair in our gazebo. He slept in our queen sized bed his whole life. He was pampered, spoiled rotten, and loved to no end. He loved to go bye bye. I swear he could understand english. We had to spell the words "bye bye", "nite nite", "cookie", "treat treat". If we said those words, he would bark and spin around, it was so precious. He was Mr. personality. He loved everybody. He never knew a stranger. He would never hurt anyone, but he would sure lick you to death....oh my God the memories I have to cherish. If he went outside, and I know this sounds bad, but if he thought he had a "poopie" on his butt, he tucked his tail under and acted ashamed, not sure why, but I would check him, if he did, I cleaned him, if he didn't...whatever, but if I would say "You're ok" and clap, he would lower his front paws and stick his butt in the air in a proud stance. He was a proud little dog. When we cooked supper at night he was right there supervising. If the timer on the oven or microwave went off he would come into the room and bark, like follow me, the food is ready. His regular vet was closed Thursday so we had to take him to a animal hospital. When I called his regular vet Friday to let them know what happened,I spoke with a lady who has known Cujo since he was a puppy. She cried on the phone with me. Last night while I was having my worst meltdown yet after getting his ashes, our doorbell rang, and flowers were delivered from our regular vet's office to my husband and I. That means the world to me to know that they really cared that much. Last July, Cujo was put in their hospital with pancreatitis and almost died then, and was in there for 1 week. I thought my heart would rip out then. I visited him every morning on my way to work, and every evening on my way home. When it was time to leave I never could bring myself to put him in the cage, so I would holler for Shirley. Shirley would come in there, she loved Cujo and he loved her. I would hand Cujo off to her, she would love on him, and distact him as I slipped out of the room. That is the only way I could leave. I called numerous times a day to check on him, and they never minded at all. They are true animal/people lovers there. I knew at that time that with his age that it was only a matter of time before I would lose him, but God knew I wasn't ready then. He left him with me a little longer. I am thankful I had him for 5 more months. I am thankful I had him 1 more Christmas. That is when in my mind I knew I should start to think about if and when, but I would quickly put it out of my mind. The thing that I miss most, and am having the hardest time with is going to bed at night. That was our special time since I work all day. He knew when it was bedtime, he had that nite nite radar, hehehe. I would say "Do you want to go nite nite", even if he was almost asleep, those ears would perk up, he would spin around and run to the bed, and look up at me like, gosh mom, put me up there already. We would love and I would kiss his little head and face. He would lick my face. I always massaged him at night, he loved that. Then for some odd reason, he would have to lick my leg until he went to sleep...he has always done that. Then he would curl up next to me and sleep all night like that. The next morning when I would get ready for work, when he saw me put my make-up case away, he knew it was time for me to leave. He knew I was getting ready to put him down. He would run to the kitchen waiting on Daddy to give him a treat treat. This happened every morning, up until around Christmas, and he no longer wanted his treats. I knew then something was wrong. I was on vacation for 2 weeks at Christmas and noticed he slept a lot more, and his appetite wasn't as good as it used to be. He just wasn't himself. Then he would get better. Then on New years eve, he threw up some saliva. The next few days he was a little better. That Monday 01-05-09 I asked my husband if he would go ahead and take him to the vet because I thought he just had a little stomach virus. That Monday he was fine, and decided to just watch him. He was playful, and ate good. Tues & Wed he was tired, and Wed night he threw up spit again. Thurs 01-08-09 I told my husband to take him to the vet thinking, oh they'll give him some medicine and send him home and all would be well. My husband called me from the vet's office....I could tell from his voice that something was wrong. He finally choked out the words...he said it was bad, that Cujo was actually dying, had been for several days...was into liver and kidney failure, and only had maybe 24-48 hours left at the most, and recommended that we put him to sleep. I was at work. I remember falling to the floor screaming, I was inconsolible. My boss, Sara got me into her office and she took the phone. I don't remember too much after that. Bill, my husband, had to come get me and take me back to the vet. They said we could take him home that night and put him to sleep the next day, but said that he would get sicker by the hour. I coudn't do that to my baby, bring him home, and stare at him knowing what I had to do the next day, and watch him get sicker and weaker by the minute, thats crazy. At the time he wasn't in any distress. I finally got there. My daughter met us there. They brought him into the room, and he wagged his little tail at me, but he looked so weak in the eyes, almost sedated looking, thats how sick he was, but I didn't know (maybe in the back of my mind I did and was afraid of what I might hear when we did take him to the doctor finally) I thought to God I would die right there on the spot. I felt like I could rip a phonebook in half, punch a hole in the wall.....I just about went crazy, but I had to pull myself together, because I didn't want to scare him, or stress him out. I decided to stay with him thru the whole process. I couldn't stand the thought of the last thing he saw was a stranger standing over him, and him be scared. So I took him, and sat down. I craddled him in my arms like a baby. He was so relaxed. I rocked him, talked to him, sang softly to him, kissed him all over, even his belly and paws, his nose, everything. My husband and daughter was across the room, and he kept stretching his little head looking for them. I had them come sit by me. They talked to him, stroked him. I rocked him to sleep, it was so sweet, so peaceful. When he feel asleep in my arms....that is when I let them give him the injection. The last thing he saw was momma, daddy and sissy. It was over in seconds. OH MY GOD, that was it, my baby was dead, gone forever. I had a grip on him. I couldn't let him go.....my husband and daughter had to pry my hands away. I finally got myself somewhat together, and asked for a few more minutes with him. I held him about 15 more minutes and handed him over to the doctor. We decided on a private cremation. I picked up his ashes yesterday, and that was what made it final. I think this is the hardest and longest I ever cried, it was so painful, but then I felt a peace about me because I was taking my baby home with me. In a different form, but at least I knew where his remains were. I have purchased a beautiful urn for his ashes with his picture to be engraved on it. This is the only thing that has brought me peace. I feel like his spirit is here with me now. I can't tell you how many times since Cujo died that we have held each other and cried. My husband is disabled, and is home all day, so Cujo was his companion, his little side kick. This is affecting my husband more than he'll let on. There is some happiness ahead of us. We will be 1st time grandparents around 03-06-09. I don't know if I'll get another dog, I'm sure I will at some point, but I have got to deal with the tremendous grief first. Thanks for listening to my story, and pray for us is this sad time in our lives. I have one final thought....I feel God gave me a gift when he sent Cujo to me, so in turn I have returned the gift to him, my baby.
Pam