I believe most of us go through life with a cross to carry. Something that we have done that will affect us for ever and will never lift.
Mine is my dog Frodo.
I have realised today that I will never get over losing him, for the simple reason that I am responsible for his death.
Unless you have experienced that magic bond that exists between man and his dog, you will never understand the strength of it. I had such bond with Frodo, and more.
When my husband and I split up, his behaviour started to change. I would find him shaking at the bottom of the garden after my husband and I would have a heated conversation. That had happened a couple of times when we were in Canada and I now realise he was feeding off my vibes.
When I moved back to the UK, I couldn’t bear the thought of being without him and within a month of me being back, my husband agreed to send him over. This is my cross to carry. If I hadn’t been so desperate for him, he would still be alive today. Because when he arrived back, he fed off my vibes all the more and as I went through depression, his health deteriorated fast. First he started to loose his sight, then he became a scavenger, he would jump on any food he could get his paws on. Until he discovered the bin, and he would regularly knock it down and help himself.
After he got himself sick one day, I decided to keep the kitchen door shut when I was at work. One morning though I can’t have closed it properly, probably not concentrating fully.
When I got home that evening, Frodo had been sick a lot, and he was lying on the floor, barely able to move. I put him outside for his piddle, which he did and then laid down right on top of it. This is when I decided to phone the vets and get him seen to straight away.
The next few days were tough. They decided to keep him overnight at first, on a drip. When I called them the following day to find out his progress, they said he was better but wanted to keep him overnight just in case. I went to visit him that day and I knew he wasn’t better.
All the while I had this little voice in my head telling me to prepare myself, that Frodo wouldn’t be coming home. I knew that voice was right.
The following day I got a call from the vets telling me that Frodo wasn’t better and he was in a lot of pain as he didn’t seem to respond to the strong pain relief he was under. They said I should consider ending his pain…
I left work and drove to the vets, taking my neighbour with me – incidently the girl I had my “psychosis” at a couple of months ago. There I was faced by a very poorly Frodo, lying on his side, barely able to move….I am not even sure he knew I was there.
They told me it would cost around £1000 to try and find out what was wrong with him and they couldn’t assure me they could save him. I frantically called my husband to see what he wanted to do, should we, could we afford that money? He never answered the phone…
And so after cuddling him for a while as best I could without moving him, the vet put the liquid in his vains…
And I watched him drift off to permanent sleep….
I was on antidepressants at the time and the magnitude of what had happened didn’t really hit me until a few months after I came off the medication.
My psychosis in August started as I finally realised I had been responsible for his death, in more ways than one.
People can tell me as much as they want that it wasn’t my fault, that these things happen, even my husband told me he sent Frodo back because Frodo wouldn’t have lived a happy life without me. Yet, I know different. This is my cross. My decisions directly led to the loss of the being the most important to me in my entire life, my dog Frodo. Incidently, it was also Frodo who led me on my path to spirituality, some two years ago when I was lost after my husband and I separated, he became my guide.
I miss him so dearly. He will forever hold my heart, and remind me to be mindful….I have decided to keep his ashes so I can never forget…