Parents handle grief for now

It’s inevitable our daughter will experience grief.

She can sit this one out for now.

Charlie, the charter member of the “Chrissy & Chris Rescue Zoo,” crossed the rainbow bridge Aug. 19.

The 14-year-old female mix between a Jack Russell terrier and sheltie had been on the decline for about a year.

It all started with a bout of kennel cough we think she might have picked up from a trip to visit our groomer. A couple days after one of her appointments, she developed a throaty cough. A few days later, our other dog, Moose, 12, contracted it as well.

While Moose’s ailments subsided over time, Charlie’s became more prolonged. An appointment with our veterinarian revealed she had a collapsing trachea, and her incessant coughing was her attempting to alleviate the constricting airway.

Our vet had prescribed her hydrocodone — yes, the Schedule II controlled substance the Drug Enforcement Agency classifies as equal to oxycodone, Adderall, Ritalin, fentanyl and methamphetamine — to lessen her symptoms. 

After a few months of treating her trachea issue, we discovered Charlie had developed heart disease; an irreversible, yet manageable, affliction in canines. She was prescribed an expensive, twice-daily pill to help with her newest condition. 

She was eventually put on short-term steroids, which helped to shrink the size of her heart and also lessen her coughs. But the latter eventually returned. And they were worse than before.

Her attitude changed drastically, too. Often lethargic, she no longer wanted to use her ramp to get on the couch. She stopped using her dog bed at night. If she wasn’t sleeping, she was breathing heavily or coughing.

At times it would be frustrating because her fits would wake our napping daughter.

So Chrissy and I had to ask ourselves the question no pet owner wants to answer: Is it time?

A consultation with our vet on a Thursday afternoon confirmed our suspicion. It would be best to relieve her of her suffering. 

Because I wasn’t at the appointment, Chrissy decided to postpone the inevitable to give us one final weekend with her.

It was a tough one.

We spoiled her as best we could, giving her all of the junk food we had tried hard to limit in recent years.

Charlie had been long unable to go on our nightly walks, so I slightly modified a deep wagon and pulled around the block a couple of times. She smiled the whole walk, nose going a million miles an hour to get in all the sniffs.

Charlie often liked to just lay in the grass and watch the world go by with the breeze running through her hair. We let her have that experience one more time.

Chrissy and I agreed that it was an odd feeling, our final weekend with Charlie. The clock was ticking and we knew the deadline.

Nevertheless, we made the best of those days with Charlie. We cried. We reminisced. We appreciated the times we had together.

I entered Charlie’s life when she was 6 years old. Chrissy got her as a puppy — her first dog as an adult.

While I was not there at the beginning, it does not mean I loved Charlie any less than if I was with her throughout her well-lived 14 years. She was still my dog and a big part of our family.

My heart ached for my wife, having to make the decision to put down a dog for the first time and also being there when her first pet crossed over. Having already experienced the latter, I know it’s far from easy, even if you’re able to say goodbye like we were with Charlie.

And this farewell was probably the hardest of my life, Charlie being “my” sixth dog.

Thankfully, at 5 months old, Baby Schanz didn’t have to experience the heartache her parents did.

With four animals remaining in the Chrissy & Chris Rescue Zoo, it’s inevitable she’ll experience this grief.

But we’ll handle it for now.

Rest easy, sweet Charlie.

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Chris Schanz is a former CR sports editor embarking on a new journey as a father. You can reach him at [email protected].