An Empty House and a Broken Heart: Saying Goodbye to My Best Friend

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“Once you have had a wonderful dog, a life without one is a life diminished.” —Dean Koontz

I didn’t get to cover as many news topics here at PJ Media as I wanted to last week, but it wasn’t for a lack of trying. I started the week swamped with a project I needed to wrap up for an old job, but I ended it by saying goodbye to my best little buddy of 15 years. And if you don’t mind indulging me for a few minutes, I’d like to say more about Sadie, the best dog I’ve ever known.  

Years ago, when I was new to living on my own, it was just my dog, Gabby, and me. Forgive me for being blunt, but Gabby was not a good dog. She didn’t like being told what to do. All the training in the world couldn’t help her. No room or fence could contain her. She’s lucky I loved her more than anything because I’m fairly certain anyone else would have given up on her pretty quickly. She was smart and stubborn as hell, which is how she ended up surviving an entire train rolling over her little 60-pound body and weaseled her way into doing her rehabilitation at Tom Petty’s beach house. Then there was the time she somehow escaped my car and terrorized a whole neighborhood yard sale or the time I had to call the police because she locked herself in a car, but these are stories for another day.

Gabby didn’t like other people. She didn’t like other animals. I tried to have other pets, but my parents always ended up adopting them because Gabby refused to live with them. But I was having to leave Gabby home alone more frequently at some point, and one day, I came back and heard her just howling. I realized she was lonely, even if she didn’t want to admit it. And that’s how I ended up with Sadie. 

On New Year’s Eve in 2009, I just happened to see a litter of “German shepherd” puppies online. They were in a rural high-killer shelter in northwest Georgia. There were four of them, and I sort of fell in love with three of the four. I couldn’t drive out there that day, and there was a holiday weekend ahead, so I decided that if one of the three was still there on Monday, it would be mine. I’d fallen in love with these little dogs. I just knew this was meant to be.   

On Monday, I called the shelter, and the lady told me that there was one puppy left, and it was the one I wanted the most, so I picked up my mom, and she and I set out on a little road trip. When we arrived, they took us back to see the puppy, and my heart sank. It wasn’t the one I wanted. It was actually the fourth one that I had decided didn’t really interest me. But I felt so bad that all of her siblings had been adopted and she hadn’t, so I asked the staff to let me see her. They opened the door to her cage, and she ran right out, danced around my feet, and made the cutest squeaky noises. It didn’t take me long to fall in love. 

When I brought her home, Gabby spent a full 24 hours hiding in my bedroom from this little seven-pound bundle of joy, but over the next few days, she became curious. She’d come into the same room with her, but keep her distance with an eye on her at all times. Within a week or two, you’d never know that Sadie hadn’t always been a part of my little family. It was the first time I’d ever seen Gabby take to anyone else who wasn’t me. (And that’s why I didn’t get mad when I learned that Sadie was not a German shepherd at all. As a matter of fact, when I put that info on her paperwork at her first vet visit, the doctor took one look at her, and literally laughed out loud.)

Sadie was as sweet as Gabby was stubborn. And she was incredibly protective. When Gabby got old and went blind, Sadie would stay by her side, guiding her around our property and through the house. She has saved my farm animals from predators. When my dad lost his father, she somehow knew and comforted him. When my own mom was dying, Sadie would sit close to her recliner and wheelchair, somehow knowing she was in her final weeks long before any of us humans did. And she was so in tune with my emotions that it was eerie. When she knew I was happy about something, she danced around and played, and when she knew I was upset, she’d get as close to me as she could and let me rest my head on her or cry into her fur. She was truly something special.  

Unfortunately, Sadie often took a backseat to everyone else in the family. We eventually moved in with my parents. My mom was sick for years, and I was her sole caregiver. Gabby was hit by a train and required months of intense rehab to walk again. My dad had open-heart surgery and nearly died from sepsis. But when my mom died in 2021 and Gabby was long gone, Sadie finally got to be the center of attention. And boy, was she. By then, it was just me and her; plus my dad still lives with us, and we both spoiled her silly. I have no regrets about that. 

Sadie wanted to go everywhere I went. She lay in the dirt while I worked in my garden or took care of my little farm, and she slept in the shade while I swam laps. She loved to go for walks at local parks or take a ride to Chick-fil-A to get her favorite grilled nuggets. Anytime I had to leave her, whether it was to run to a store for an hour or travel for a couple of weeks, it broke my heart. I had full-on anxiety attacks about leaving her for more than a day or two, but our reunions were always oh-so-sweet. I told my dad yesterday that no one would ever be as happy to see me again as Sadie was. I could get out of the shower, and she’d greet me as if I’d been on a world tour.  

On the day Queen Elizabeth died — I’ll always remember that — Sadie tore her ACL and couldn’t walk. I just knew it was the end. She was almost thirteen years old, and my vet and I agreed that surgery may not be the best option at her age, so we began a pretty intensive rehabilitation process that nearly broke my back. She couldn’t go upstairs anymore to my bedroom, so I cleaned out a room downstairs that we were using for storage, bought a new mattress to put on the floor, and that’s where she and I slept from then on.  

Over the next two years, she would develop numerous other health issues. Cushing’s disease. Chronic skin infections. Nerve damage. Bladder infections. Arthritis. There were many days when I didn’t think she’d last much longer, but I have a good vet who was willing to work with us, and with both my dad and I going above and beyond, she’d always overcome her issues and maintained a pretty high quality of life in the meantime. This past spring, my vet told me that he suspected she had some type of cancer. We decided there would be no more tests and treatments. We’d make the shift to palliative care to keep her pain-free and happy until she wasn’t. She could eat and do what she wanted for whatever time she had left. I had no idea that’d be another eight-plus months.  

I’ll admit that it wasn’t easy. I was still recovering from caregiver fatigue from my mom,  and here I was giving all my time to this dog now. Sadie’s mobility waxed and waned. Her hearing came and went. She decided at some point that she’d sleep all day and keep me awake half the night. I’m pretty sure I spent a small fortune on her various medications and supplements, and I canceled many, many plans to stay home and be with her. We had to put rugs down on the floors so she didn’t slide, and we couldn’t leave her home alone in case she did fall somewhere and got stuck. 

I’m sure some people would have given up sooner, but I just couldn’t do that to her when she still enjoyed her life so much. She’d been so good to me for 15 years, and I owed her everything I had in return. 

Last Thursday, everything seemed normal. We got up, and she ate a few treats. She went out with me to feed my farm animals and even chased my barn cats as she does every day. I came in and got to work. I was behind on that project and very stressed out. She seemed a little restless, but I didn’t think much of it. As a matter of fact, I said to her at one point, “If you will please just settle down for a couple of more days, I’ll be done with this work, and I can spend all the time in the world with you.” Unfortunately, that time never came. 

Every day, my dad makes her some peanut butter crackers, and that afternoon, she wouldn’t eat them. I didn’t think much of it at first — she’s had stomach issues all her life — but she wouldn’t eat her food that evening either and turned her nose up at her favorite treats. She was barely drinking water.  

Friday was more of the same. I called my vet, and he prescribed some anti-nausea medication and stronger pain medication. On my way home from picking it up, I went by several restaurants and grabbed some of her favorite foods — anything I could do to entice her to eat but no luck. 

By Saturday morning, my dad was still hopeful, but I knew she was dying. Her other bodily functions were shutting down. Her breathing had changed. All she wanted to do was sleep. I doubled up her pain medication just in case. And I spent a couple of hours agonizing over what to do. I knew it was probably time to end her suffering, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. The other dogs I’ve had in my life, including Gabby, died naturally. Thankfully, a good friend finally talked me into it, and I’ll be forever grateful to her for it.  

That evening, I reached out to what seemed like every mobile vet in the Atlanta area, but few returned my calls and texts, and the ones who did were booked up or on vacation. Of course they were, it was the weekend before Christmas. I finally reached out to Lap of Love. I can’t recommend this organization enough if you find yourself in the same situation. It’s a little pricey, but they are pros. The woman who helped me set everything up was incredibly sweet. I made an appointment for 1 p.m. the next day. 

Saturday night, Sadie mostly slept. She’d wake up agitated from time to time and go to her water bowl, but she couldn’t drink. It broke my heart because I knew her mouth was so dry, so I used a syringe to give her a little water and chicken broth, which she seemed to appreciate. I gave her a little extra pain medication to keep her somewhat sedated. Within a few hours, she could no longer get out of the bed, which seemed to make her even more frustrated. 

We didn’t get much sleep that night, but when we did, I held her tight. She had a distant look in her eyes, and I wasn’t sure she even knew I was there, but when I was touching her, she would calm down. I prayed and prayed that her little heart would just stop beating before she got worse. On Sunday morning, as soon as Lap of Love reopened, I called and asked if I could reschedule my appointment for earlier in the day. I’d wanted to spend more time with her, but that was selfish. It was clear to me that she was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, and I was just ready to give her peace. Our appointment couldn’t come fast enough. 

Thankfully, the vet arrived a few minutes early. I moved Sadie from my bed to her big fluffy dog bed in the living room and wrapped her in one of her favorite blankets. The doctor and I sat down on the floor next to her.  She explained the process, and we talked a lot while she prepared everything. Even though I’d been thinking about this moment for nearly a year, and even though I’ve dealt with so much loss lately that I considered myself above the emotions of it all, I was a nervous wreck, but this woman put me at ease, and I’ll be forever grateful for her, too.   

The process is fairly simple. Sadie was a bit agitated at first, even after receiving the initial sedative they gave, but I finally slid my hand under her head, and she calmed down. A minute or two later, she simply stopped breathing. Suddenly, both my heart and my house felt cold and empty.  

Sunday night was the first night in my adult life that I’ve gotten into my bed without a dog in it, and I didn’t like it at all. Life may be easier now, but it’s not better. I don’t like not having my best girl around. I don’t like living in a home without a dog in it.  

When the vet first told me she didn’t have much time left, I told myself it’d be a while before I got another dog. As I said, I was still recovering from having to take care of my mom by myself for many years. When she died, all I wanted was a little freedom, but Sadie began developing her health issues shortly after that. I can’t even remember what it’s like to not have someone depend on me literally every minute of the day.  

I’ll never be able to replace this best little buddy of mine who was at my side for 15 years — I’m pretty sure I loved Sadie more than the majority of humans I’ve known in my life — but I don’t think it’ll be too long before the pitter-patter of little paws fills my house again and I start a new adventure. Even so, I’m going to miss my little red and brown sidekick. There will never be another like her.