Thursday, November 21st 2019
My first golden retriever was Libby. I was about one and a half when we adopted Libby, so we grew up together. Libby was a good girl, and I ran around the house with her all day. Because I was so young when we got Libby, I don’t remember most of her life. Yet, we were always close. She was a constant happy force. She was very patient, as any dog with babies around must be. She completed the family.
Then, Libby got sick. I don’t remember it very well because I was 10 years old. I remember her fainting, falling overand not able to get up. I remember we would find her sometimes hours later collapsed. I remember the veterinarian telling usthat she had a tumor in her heart. I remember making a video of how upsetting it was, and I still have that iMovie drive.
The fainting started to increase. She would collapse in the yard in the middle of the night. Everyone around me beganto worry, and I was warned that she may pass away soon. The next week, we had a trip to Hawaii planned for me, my momand my brother. I begged my mom not to go. I knew that if we left, Libby would die. But, it was non-refundable and expensive, so we went. We were on a snorkel boat, when my dad called my mom. He was watching Libby while we were away. He said that he was at the vet, and the vet felt it was time. She was in too much pain. I don’t remember how we got off theboat or how we found our way back to the hotel room. From there we called my dad. We each got a turn. He put the phone next to Libby’s ear, and we all said goodbye. It was the first time that I saw my mom cry. It was the first time that I experienced death. I didn’t know how to feel. Coming back to the house without Libby felt empty. She was my first golden. We grew up together. And, she was gone. It was a lot to take in at my age. I am grateful to have had Libby. She completed our family and was a constant for so long. I missed having her around the house and in our lives.
A year after Libby died, I was at sleepaway camp during the summer. My mom called and asked if I wanted another golden retriever. Of course, my answer was yes. She said that the breeder had puppies and a one-year old golden. It was my choice: wait a couple weeks longer for a puppy or adopt the 1-year old. I chose the 1-year old. Her name was Appletini. Wepromptly changed it to Abby upon adopting her. My mom drove Abby into the Rocky Mountains to meet me at camp. I was over the moon. I felt as if I had gotten another best friend. I was so excited to have Abby.
It was a fast friendship. Abby and I were inseparable. During the summers, I set up picnics in the front yard for me and Abby. We ran through the sprinklers and around the grass. During the winter, I dressed in full snow gear, and we sprinted around the yard. Inside the house, we played tag, and I put her on blankets and “drove” her through the house. She watched me play roller hockey in the driveway from her gated yard. She watched me grow up.
My freshman year of high school, I had friend problems. For the last few months of school, I came home and did homework. I didn’t hang out with friends. My mom was in a long-distance relationship with my now step dad, and sometimes I housesat while she went to visit him. It was Abby and me alone in the house. My dad was just a phone call away from coming over, and I could stay at his house. But, Abby and I would hang out all weekend. It should have been one of the loneliest times of my life. It should have been a depressing few months, but it was the exact opposite. Abby gave me so much unconditional love that I never felt alone. I felt so whole with her in my life. She was my best friend and my biggest support.
I went away to high school on the East Coast and then college in California, and my time with Abby shortened. However, I knew that when I graduated college, I would take Abby back for my own. The world had a different plan. I was driving back to my dad’s house in California from school in February 2016. I was getting off the exit towards his house. My mom called. I was driving, and I didn’t answer. She texted, “Abby is sick, I am taking her to the vet.” I was still driving. She Facetimed, and I did not answer. A few seconds later, I got a text: “Abby died.” I can’t explain the pain. It was so unbearable, so heartbreaking and so unexpected. I sobbed the 5-minute drive home. When I parked, I stumbled out of the car into a rosebush, blinded by my tears. I was screaming and crying, and my dad came running out. I told him, and he helped me out of the rose bush, cuts along my legs. I have never cried that hard for that long. I had lost my best friend. The friend that even in the darkest time brought an ever-shining light into my life. It was incredibly painful. I didn’t answer the Facetime. I never got to say goodbye. There aren’t words to explain how it felt then and how it still feels now. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss Abby.
It took months of healing. Even to this day, almost 4 years later, I still cry at the thought of how it happened. But, from the experience, my mom and I were able to get much closer than we had ever been. I think that was Abby’s final gift tome. She left the world and gave me a closer relationship to my mom. A relationship that without her death, I don’t think would have grown in the way that it did.
I still have Abby’s paw print and collar. I still think of her every day. Losing a best friend is one of the hardest feelings. To anyone that has been through it, I am so sorry for your loss. It is so unfair that dogs don’t live a human lifetime, but the time we get with our dogs is so precious. Losing Abby, I felt that I could never have another dog. It was the only time in my life where I questioned if I would get another. But, Abby prepared me for Bumble Bee. She taught me so many things in her lifetime; but, more than all, she taught me how to love.
Hi, I just read your story about Abby and I have tears streaming down my face. I’m so sorry you lost her. And lost her the way you did. I so badly want a dog and have been thinking of getting one for nearly 10 years now. My job keeps me super busy and I’d the reason I tell people “I work too much to get a dog.” But the deep down reason is because I don’t want to go through the pain of losing them. So, I’d love to ask you how you healed? And how do cope knowing you will our live Bumblebee? He is the sweetest! And i love your post and stories. Even the fact that you live in a high rise gives me hope, because I live in a condo in California, and a lot of people say “you’ve gotta have a yard in order to take care of a dog probably.” I’m happy to see you’re proving that untrue. I really want a white English lab. Labs and Goldens are my absolute favorite. Thank you for making your content so enjoyable. I always look forward to seeing it. I wish you and Bee the best. And hope you can write me back if you don’t mind tell me how you got past the sadness.
Thank you 🐾
Patti Murphy
Hi Patty! I’m so sorry for your loss. Losing a dog is incredibly painful, and everyone heals on different timelines. For me, I knew that the love Abby gave me was something that I was meant to pass forward. She taught me so much about unconditional love. I am now able to use the lessons Abby taught me to love Bee. In terms of knowing that I will out live Bee, I try to appreciate every moment. I never take a second for granted. Thank you for responding to the article, all the best<3