Dear Diary, here's what my first pet loss is like.

Yesterday I decorated my new office. Last night my dog died.

Almost 3 years ago (pre-Gracie joining the family), Chewy.com gifted me painted portraits of Gatsby and Lexi. I couldn’t think of anything better to put in my office. A lot of people at work didn’t see my office makeover yesterday, so they commented on it today. Three people asked me about my dogs in the picture and I had to lie and talk about Gatsby as if he’s fine. I’ve been crying non stop since it happened when I’m alone and even at work when I’m at my desk hoping someone doesn’t walk in and see. I’m definitely not ready to talk about it out loud. So for now, he’s alive in my memory and other acquaintances can see him as being alive too.

I adopted Gatsby 2 months after moving to Florida because I couldn’t wait to have a buddy and someone to greet me when I walked through the door. I adopted him from the shelter’s Valentine’s special for $14, so I always said he’s my forever valentine. He was a special dog. He started off with separation anxiety, barking non stop when I would leave and clawing the crate so hard his snout bled. This didn’t last long at all and I was so proud that I helped a shelter dog get settled in and feel better. His personality was never like the dog I wanted, but wow am I glad I had him. I always joked and said “gosh, he’s so independent he acts like a cat!”

He was always in a separate room from me or if we were in the same room, he liked to sit above my shoulder on the couch cushion. Never on my lap unless forced. Not the cuddly little bug I had in mind when I adopted. Until we were in bed. He never had a bed of his own. He slept me every night from day 1. He cuddled so close against my legs or some days sleeping on my pillow right above my head. If I had known that the night before last night would have been our last night sharing a bed, I would’ve stayed awake all night. Just to feel him breathing and watch him sleep. I would have taken him for a nice walk since he looked like he was prancing when he walked. I would have taken him to get a burger or a pup cup, even though he wasn’t that picky so it’s not like there was a special last meal we would have done.

I’m struggling a lot with the guilt. The guilt of not taking him to the vet last week when I started to wonder why he still was coughing despite being on medicine and only having a “mild” heart murmur according to the vet. The guilt of not leaving to take him to the emergency vet just 30 minutes sooner, although according to the emergency vet it wouldn’t have made much difference. The guilt of not doing more of what we should have done together. Definite guilt and sadness from not enough pictures and video. I guess him being away from me in another room always made me forget to document his life as much as my other dogs. I regret it now.

Last month I took Gatsby to the vet because he had a dry cough and kept collapsing. I was so worried. The vet told me his heart murmur was a 3 out of 6 and with medicine would be nothing to worry about. His medicine stopped the collapsing, but the cough persisted. The emergency vet last night told me that he had heart disease that had caused his heart to fail.

He was fine yesterday morning and when I got home from work. I rode my peloton in the evening. Got off, came out to the hall to see him laying in a spot he doesn’t typically lay in, think nothing of it, shower, come out of the shower and notice his breath is so fast. It’s like he’s panting, but his mouth wasn’t open. No matter what I tried, his breath wouldn’t slow. He would foam at the mouth and cough up foam, which I was later told was the liquid that had been stuck in his lungs from his heart not working right.

I have no desire to bash a vet, but I keep asking what if he had gone somewhere else last month? I absolutely think he was misdiagnosed and wasn’t treated correctly because the vet didn’t know what they were treating. I’m not taking my other two dogs there again. I hope someone uses this story to realize that maybe it’s a good idea to get second opinions on our pets, just as humans do sometimes. I always trusted what any vet was saying and never even considered second opinions. But I wish I would have gotten one.

Everyone copes with grief differently. I’m struggling. I wanted to get everything out here instead of continually bringing it up on social media. Like I said, I don’t feel like talking about it with people. I ordered some self help pet grieving books from Amazon. One of them is actually about teaching you to spot signs that your pet is trying to communicate with you. I obviously don’t have the book yet, but I feel like I noticed some signs today.

Last night I dreamt that I crashed and rear ended a car. According to dream analytic sites: “If you did something in the past and you still feel guilty about it, it could be triggering this car accident dreams which involve you causing the car accidents. If it is something that you cannot change, it would be better if you let it go.”

I can’t change the way Gatsby’s last days were. I’d sell my soul to, but I think I’ve been shown that although I feel I caused the accident, I have to let it go.

This morning, I saw one of my exes walking into Dunkin’. The ex that was closest to Gatsby. As I mentioned, Gatsby was just a very independent dog, but he had bonded big time with one of my exes. I chalked it up to it being a guy thing. But Gatsby wasn’t that close to my other exes. Although I personally don’t like my ex as a person (they’re an ex for a reason), it felt like a sign from Gatsby that “hey, I see the humans that cared for me the most and I don’t regret a single moment with them.”

Gatsby was a chihuahua mixed with something else. I think Jack Russell. But when I saw a lady walking a chihuahua today, it felt like a sign. I was meant to see the type of dog Gatsby was so I could have a happy reminder.

I was listening to the emo station on Pandora and as I was about 2 minutes from home “Your Guardian Angel” by the Red Jumpsuit Apparatus came on. Obviously it’s an emo song, so it was on the right station. But there’s so many songs that could have played today. “I’ll be there for you through it all, even if saving you sends me to heaven.” Gatsby is gone from my physical home, but I think he wants me to know that he watches over it.

I don’t really care if I sound crazy. I need these signs. I need to know he’s better now. He lost consciousness about 2 minutes from the hospital last night and they resuscitated him with tubes of oxygen and CPR. My only goodbye was when I begged them to take him off the tubes so I could hold him one last time and say goodbye before they euthanized him. He seemed to be in so much pain in my arms, so the goodbye wasn’t only quick and a shock, but it wasn’t calm or peaceful or “normal.” I don’t think he understood what I was saying. So I have to find hope and closure in signs. His heart failed him, but I really hope that I didn't.