In 2017 I lost my sweet dog Jada and I wrote about grieving the loss of a pet. I was inconsolable and depressed after my loss and wanted readers to know it was OK to grieve in any way that helped. Now it’s 2019 and I’m grieving again.
After a few months in an empty house I knew it was time to try again and my search began.
I wanted a small, 3-4-year-old dog; preferably a Shih Tzu mix. I signed on to some rescue sites and was sent daily canine photos. It took awhile because most rescues were big dogs; breeds with bad reputations. Sad but true. The smaller breeds were older than I wanted.
Eventually I found Dante, a rescue from South Carolina, and I was thrilled. His bio put him at two years old and a Shih Tzu mix…perfect!
I had to be investigated and needed references from my vet, friends, etc. It was probably a month and a half before I knew that Dante was mine. The rescue organization informed me that a van would come north on a specific date and dogs would be dropped off in White River Junction where Dante would be picked up by a volunteer and taken to Plymouth, NH. I was blessed.
The big day came and we excitedly drove to Plymouth and when I laid eyes on this tiny, white, angel dog with huge soulful eyes I fell in love. My heart was overflowing with joy.
Dante spent each day being loved, walked, played with and showered with toys and treats. He was a happy little boy. He was my reason for getting out of bed each day and every time I looked into those eyes I loved him more.
His bio had also said he was “on the streets” for a long time and we believed he had been abused because, in the beginning, when we would reach for him he would cower, probably expecting to be hit or worse. It took time for him to trust us but love prevailed and he finally knew he was where he belonged.
Although we believed he was two, there were indications that he was a bit older, but I ignored the signs. At his first tooth cleaning he lost seven teeth that were held in by plaque. At that time the vet said he thought Dante was older and I ignored it again. Next he was diagnosed with Cushings disease, a “senior dog” disease and we decided to change vets and were told he was eight or nine. After numerous tests he was also diagnosed with pancreatitis and had a tumor on his spleen that had metastasized to his liver. My world fell apart.
Dante went to sleep in my arms on May 29. Before taking him to the vet I held him and rocked him for an hour. I told him how much he was loved, that he was such a good boy and that my heart was breaking. The top of his little head was wet from my tears. I was devastated.
Although I’m writing this out of grief, there is a lesson to be learned from my experience. Be very cautious when adopting a rescue. I realize rescuers are just trying to find homes for all the homeless pets and I commend them for their efforts but sadly, unbeknownst to us, Dante was older and sick when we got him because there’s a big difference between 2 and 9 years of age.
In time my search will begin again but it will be locally. As for adopting a rescue, all of my children have rescues and they’ve been very fortunate. I’m thankful for that. But adopters should understand there’s no guarantee as far as age goes and if a pet has health issues adopters should be told prior to adopting. Dante was fortunate, in his short little life, to know true love and we gave him our very best. However, things could have been worse if someone, who didn’t have the means to pay for the endless tests and medicines, adopted Dante only to have to surrender him to a shelter to live out his sad little life.
His box of ashes sits next to Jada’s on a shelf surrounded by tiny angels and flowers and when I die they’ll be mixed and buried with mine. Please wish me luck with my new search.
Sheila Quinlivan, who retired from the Recorder in 2004, is a resident of Winchester, NH.