GriefSPEAK: A Love Letter of pet loss on this Valentine’s Day – Mari Nardolillo Dias

by Mari Nardolillo Dias, EdD, contributing writer on grief and grieving

As told to Mari Dias by Maggie Dias:

Hi! I’m  Maggie. I also answer to: Mags, Maggie Mags, Magadoo and Magster. I am 9 years old. I crossed the rainbow bridge this week. My cousin Gracie greeted me at the gate, and there are so many other familiar faces: Radar, Cooper, Ruben, Dante – some of whom I recognize in pictures and others from my life on earth.

Speaking of earth, I had a great life! In full disclosure, my conception was a bit awkward, as my dog dad, Meuccio, who lives with Grammie and Grandpa, did not want to be a father. When my human dad took Meuccio to the breeder, they had to give him (Meuccio, not my human dad!) anti-anxiety medication and still he refused. Without getting into details, and with some human assistance he was able to produce a modicum amount of spermatozoa. The breeder was confident that the pregnancy did not take. Well, I am proof, along with twelve others in the litter that it did! (Guess we were all somewhat of a miracle!) Grammie and Auntie Lindsay came to take videos of all of us and picked me up to go home to my forever home with my human mom and dad.

I have an anxious personality and was not fond of being alone for a minute, so when I was two, mom and dad brought a sister home for me to have company. Our stomping ground was Wickford. Everyone in the neighborhood and the marina knew “the girls.” Truth be told, my favorite activity was when mom took us to Blue Beach. Oh, the freedom to run and kick up sand, racing with Moon along the shoreline. We spent a great deal of time visiting my New York grandparents, trips up north and of course, on our boat, “Indigo”. We often had week-long sleepovers on the boat with mom and dad as well.  Moon and I would run down the dock, take a quick right and jump on Grammie and Grandpa’s boat, Raven. Meuccio was usually there, along with my cousin, Mercy. We went for treats. Then we would jump off “Raven”, run down the dock, take a quick left to find mom and dad. And more treats. It was often a continual marathon. All for treats. Ah, treats! My favorite. Anytime, anywhere – treats!

I was a homebody though and loved to just lounge in the front window with Moon, soaking up the sun and watching the world drive/walk by, like watching a day long movie!

Last NYE (2024) we spent a week in New Hampshire at the best Airbnb. The owner allowed dogs, so we all went! Me, Moon, Mercy and my new cousin, Juniper. Here I sat near the slider door watching a different movie – the forest full of huge pine trees, nothing but woods and snow. It was very relaxing and beautiful. And it was the best because we were all together.

I was not home long after our NY trip before I started to feel a little sick. I was very thirsty, tired, and not very hungry. Surely not like me! Mom took me to the hospital, and they told mom and dad that my red blood cell count was extremely low, and I needed a blood transfusion. They admitted me and sent me for an ultrasound – maybe they could see what was making my red cells low. The very next morning the hospital called and told dad that I was full of cancer and had to be put down.

Mom and Dad freaked out. My whole family freaked out. Luckily for me, my dad loves knowledge and information (he passed the Jeopardy exam). When they arrived, mom and dad asked how the doctors knew the tumors in my body were cancer. Based on their research, they knew cancer could only be diagnosed by a biopsy and a CAT scan. They requested both. The biopsies showed that the tumors were fatty and not cancerous at all, but they found a mass in my abdominal cavity, so I had surgery. I wish I could speak with words then, like I can now, because when mom and dad came to visit me every day, I could tell they were worried and nervous. I wanted to tell them it was okay, but all I could do was bark.

Long story long, I was ready to go home and began to feel a little bit nauseous again. Following another scan, they found an abscess, so I had another surgery. I was feeling great! I wanted to show mom and dad it was okay by barking, jumping on and off chairs and trying to get into the garbage. I loved my doctors ‘cuz they brought me treats and allowed me to have an iPad to watch Bluey and listen to calming music. And after 18 days, I was able to go home! The nurses and doctors gave me a hat and made me a scarf, thanking mom and dad for not giving up on me. I knew they would not.

Home, with mom, dad, and Moon. Everyone was so happy, including me! I went for a check-up days later and they were a bit concerned about my kidneys. Once again, I wanted to assure mom and dad that I felt fine. I did not mind the hospital – I had a lot of friends there.

They admitted me overnight for fluids, and I was doing great. I was happy to see mom and dad happy. I was surprised to wake up Sunday morning feeling so tired. When mom and dad came, I showed them how I was feeling by not jumping around. I wanted to tell them I was not feeling so great.

The next morning the hospital called mom and dad to tell them I was very, very sick. The abscess had grown back and was larger. It was pressing against my belly, and I was very nauseous. Mom and Dad knew I could not go through another surgery. It would be too much for my body. And then there was still the kidney issue. They did the most selfless thing they could do. They put me first, and despite their own sadness and grief they ushered me out and into heaven.

Take it from me, all dogs do go to heaven. It is very crowded here, but there is always enough room. I can hear and understand speech now, and it hurts so much to know mom’s and dad’s hearts are broken. I hope they can hear me when I say, “It is all okay, I know how much you loved me and how much you still do. I am not in any pain, and I want to thank you for everything – my life and for extending it so we could all have the gift of goodbye.

___

Access all of Dr. Dias’ columns at: GRIEFSPEAK

Dr. Mari Nardolillo Dias is a nationally board-certified counselor, holds a Fellow in Thanatology and is certified in both grief counseling and complicated grief. Dias is a Certified death doula, and has a Certificate in Psychological Autopsy.

Dias is an Adjunct Professor at CCRI, and Professor of Clinical Mental Health, Master of Science program, at Johnson & Wales University. Dias is the director of GracePointe Grief Center, in North Kingstown, RI.  For more information, go to:  http://gracepointegrief.com/