To quote my all time favourite band Paramore:
Gonna make you wonder why you even try
Gonna take you down and laugh when you cry
And I still don’t know how I even survive
Two days ago we found my dog Hayley dead in the livingroom. We obviously kept in the back of our heads that she was an old dog, and that she may not have long to live, a few years tops, but finding her was unexpected nonetheless. She had been a little bit more quiet than usually, for which we made an appointment at the vet, because we were suspecting worms, but nothing serious otherwise. We kept a close eye on her during the weekend, and she seemed okay. We brought her to the vet anyway to get an autopsy done on her, because it was so unexpected, and well.. She died of cancer. Hemangiosarcoma to be exact, which is a very aggressive form of cancer of the spleen and liver. She developed the tumor in the spleen first, which metastasized to the liver, and the tumor ended up leaking, and rupturing. That caused her to bleed to death within seconds. I guess I can find some peace in the fact that she didn’t suffer.. Cancer isn’t exactly an unknown enemy in my family. A good majority of my family members have suffered from it, and some of them died including my mom. I also lost another dog to cancer as well, so hearing Hayley had cancer as well was a bitter pill to swallow.
I’ve had Hayley for a good 8 years, I got her when I was 15, and she was a young adult dog at that point. She was a surprise, given to my by my late mother, because she thought it’d be good for me to have a companion, since I had been struggling with severe depression for a good couple of years at that point. Hayles and I bonded quickly, and soon after we were inseparable. Ever since I was a child and throughout my teenage years, I’ve been dealing with lots of anxiety on top of my depression. Hayley kind of pulled me out of my shell, and pushed my boundaries. However, she also sensed and warned whenever I was blacking out and suicidal. I guess you could say that she was my therapy dog, my crutch. She’s been with me through the roughest times of my life. The move to Denmark, the loss of my mom while adjusting to life in a new country, which gets lonely at times, and a lot of other times as well.
I don’t feel entirely like myself at the moment, which I guess isn’t so weird after spending so many years with her by my side. A lot of people would say that it’s an awful lot of tears to shed over the loss of a dog, but she was so much more than ”just a dog” to me. I don’t own much, I don’t have a lot to my name, but my dogs are one of the things I’m proudest of. Dogs have always been a huge part of my life, I grew up around a big pack of dogs, and Hayley being my first own dog meant a lot to me. It still does. What made her even more special was the fact that she was an Ibizan Hound, which has been my favourite breed for over a decade. It’s weird, sitting here, writing this, without her interrupting me for a hug, which is what she always used to do whenever I was writing.
I can’t imagine myself being without an Ibizan Hound for long though. I haven’t been without one for over a decade, and I miss their goofy demeanor. And I’m not the only one. Falera, my Spanish greyhound, misses Hayley terribly as well. Fallie is about as playful as dogs get, and starts throwing her toys around as soon as she gets the chance, but not now. She looks around first, takes her toy, walks around with it and puts it back down, only to sigh and sleep afterwards. She misses her sister, I can tell. I’m spoiling her a bit extra these coming days. Poor thing doesn’t understand it at all.. If only they could understand the words we say to them..
Sorry for the depressing post this time guys.. Hopefully the next one will be a little bit more positive!