Saying Goodbye to a Best Friend
At 7am on Wednesday, April 7th, I said goodbye to my best friend.
Ellen was a chihuahua that I rescued from the Lancaster Area Humane Society (Lancaster, Pennsylvania) on October 23rd, 2010. I just purchased my first home, settlement was the day before, and I knew that I wanted someone special to share this milestone. I saw her picture on the shelter’s website and I beat out a few others vying for the privilege to share their lives with this special lady.
My initial meeting with Ellen was not especially promising as she tried to bite me every chance she got. It was after about an hour of protecting my fingers from the tiny, yet mighty, teeth of this scared little dog, that I decided she was better suited for someone else. As I stood up to leave, walking toward the door, I suddenly heard the frantic “tick-ticks” of her toenails running after me to stop me from leaving without her. I turned around and she was wagging her slightly bent, once-broken tail and let out one bark, asking me to be her dad.
That day began the longest relationship I have ever been a part of, including my current marriage. Ellen became my confidante and my solace when my days were hard. She became my partner in celebration when something wonderful and special was happening. Ellen became my entire world and remained that for over a decade.
Over the years, Ellen was burdened with many chronic illnesses, including Diabetes, Pulmonary Hypertension and Cushing’s Disease. We were regular visitors to the hospital, and the veterinarian’s office, to keep her battered body feeling as healthy as possible. She even had a toe amputated during a cancer scare in 2013. Through all of this, Ellen was loved and loved me with everything she was and all that she had. I did the same for her, day in and day out. If there was ever a constant in my life, it was my love for her and her love for me.
A few weeks ago, she was having trouble breathing, so I rushed her to the Emergency Room of a Veterinarian Hospital after being turned away by two hospitals that same evening. The ER visits were not that uncommon, so I had little reason to believe this would be her last day by my side.
After five hours, Ellen was discharged with a marked improvement to her breathing, but something was missed by the doctor, and myself, and not noticed until we were almost home from the forty-five minute drive from the hospital. Ellen was discharged with partial paralysis; she could not walk or maintain her balance.
After arriving home and noticing this problem, I immediately called the hospital and the doctor informed me that he noticed something was off, but chalked it up to exhaustion. I gathered her up and took her back to the hospital, where she died a few minutes after arriving. They attempted to revive her for ten minutes, but her tired little body couldn’t put up the fight any longer.
Now, two and a half weeks later, I still do not know why she died. I do not know why the doctor wasn’t paying close enough attention to her, so little attention that he did not notice partial paralysis. I requested further information from the medical director (that said nothing improper had taken place) but he never responded to my request for an explanation.
I was able to have all fees waived by the hospital, which has helped, but I would have paid all the money I have to keep that special soul in my life…even for just one more day.
I wanted to write this story for Ellen. Each day, I grieve, still seeing her scared little face as we drove her back to the hospital…still seeing her face after she passed away while I held her body close to my heart.
Ellen, I love you and I am sorry that I couldn’t protect you on the day that you died.