Heartbreak Like No Other
First, and foremost, I want to apologize for being away for so long. It’s been quite a rollercoaster of emotion; literally like nothing I’ve really ever tackled in my life.
I’ve talked about Hazel The Wonder Dog, our truly amazing service dog, boss of the house, and Keeper/Manager of the Grumps. She kept us all on the “straight and narrow”, comforting Grumps through a variety of fainting spells, a couple of hospitalizations, maneuvering us through the medical offices like Christopher Columbus looking for the new world, and even one near-death experience with Grumps in 2020. She provided me with a sense of security, both in heart and mind, as I headed out of the house on my own adventures.
Hazel (known as Truffle) came to us through our own human sweet soul, Sherry, or “Memaw” as she’s known to many. A true lover of the Labrador Retriever and amazing breeder by love, admiration of the breed and choice, Sherry heard of my desperate plea for a labrador (I wouldn’t take any other breed) that could be trained as a service dog. Within days, Grumps and I were headed to some little town in Minnesota, in a horrible ice storm, with the hopes of at least meeting a suitable dog. Little did we know that their love (Grumps and Hazel) would be undeniable and unbreakable. She crawled up onto the couch beside him, leaned in, and looked up at him with those big brown eyes, and that was it! Literally love at first sight. I remember Memaw saying, “well, it looks like you have a dog …”
Several months of training, with our favorite dog trainer Barb, getting certified, and getting the all important vest and ID card, we had an official service dog. While I’ve personally never had a labrador that wouldn’t carry something in their mouth on command, Hazel made up for it oh so many ways, through comfort on the bad days, absolute labrador silliness on the good days, and mom’s (that’s me) coffee/reading companion. She was the most “non-dog” dog I ever had; instead, she took her responsibilities very seriously. If you called her a “dog”, you literally got the side-eye or eye-roll of indignation.
Hazel also had an incredible relationship with Henry, the little prince. They were side-by-side at all times at our house. When Henry spent the night at Nana and Grump’s house, Hazel’s sole responsibility was the management of Henry. She painstakingly tolerated the plethora of trains, train track, hot wheels, and other loud boy toys that ran up and down the hallway making beeping and siren noises. She slept at the end of Henry’s bed every night that he stayed with us. As soon as he switched from the convertible crib toddler bed to the “big boy bed”, her spot was at the end (conveniently close for Henry to be able to reach out his toes to make sure she was there in the middle of the night). She was the ultimate protector/slayer of dragons, monsters and bears that might appear in the night (according to Henry).
As Henry learned to spell, Hazel oversaw a variety of words created by those brightly-colored chunky letters. I swear when Henry spelled Hazel, she winked at me as if to say, “Yep, he got it!” She sat right beside the tub as he splashed, put an abundance of bubbles on her head (“The bubble hat looks good on you, Haz”, he would say), and tolerated hours of No More Monkeys Jumping On The Bed and Five Little Speckled Frogs sung at the top of both our lungs. When it was time for bed, he got in and settled with his book, I scooted in beside him, and Hazel took her place at the foot, sometimes sending out a few rumblings of the snores well known to labrador owners if the book didn’t keep her attention.
Hazel loved to travel and was happy to be in the back of the car, with her toy and fluffy bed. I swear she looked forward to hotel rooms because it usually resulted in her getting her own queen-sized bed. No self-respecting labrador slept on hotel room floors, right? She would sit quietly waiting to be introduced to new people, scootched in under the table at restaurants and resisted all temptation to vacuum up stuff off the floor (let’s be honest, it was only after mom said “leave it”). We traveled to Indiana, Michigan’s UP, Wisconsin (Door County), and even knocking out Grump’s bucket list item of visiting the Baseball Hall of Fame in New York, over to New Jersey to hang with Fenway, Ryan and Alyson, down to Washington DC to museums and touristy stuff, and finally back to home sweet home. It was a week of in and out of the car, hotels, people, Grump’s walker, hot weather and general chaos. As always, she handled it with love and dedication to her people.
The last few days are still heart-wrenching. On Friday, she was mopey … off. By Sunday, she was moving slow, not interested in much of anything. Monday morning I was calling the vet because she started pacing the floor, a usual sign of distress. She wasn’t interested in eating (SO not a sign of a labrador) and her breathing was off. By the afternoon, we were off to our awesome vet, Dr. Humphrey, who expressed concern but was still greeted with a little kiss and gentle tail wag from Ms. Hazel. Off they went to the back room for x-rays and blood work.
When our vet walked into the room with x-rays in hand and burst into tears, I felt my legs start to go weak. “There’s just not anything hopeful about what we need to talk about” she said, followed by “I’m so terribly sorry …” As she placed the x-rays up on the screen, she grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “All of the white you see on the screen (like a blizzard) is most likely cancer cells, her heart is enlarged, and there is a large shadow in her abdomen that is most likely bad as well.” The panic of what I needed to do moving forward was creeping up as I blurted, “I have to call Memaw.” Dr. Humphrey and Sherry/Memaw chatted with no positive outcome. Memaw asked me, “Is Grumps with you? You can’t put her to sleep without them saying good-bye to each other …” My panic then switched to trying to tell my love about what we were facing, and unfortunately, very quickly.
Packed back in the car and heading home with our sweet Wonder Dog, injected with medication to give her some relief and the thought that she most likely would not survive the night, I drove home to break the news to not only my love, but our kids and Henry. Henry came to say goodbye and it just broke my heart to see the pain in his face. He held her, and hugged her and kissed her face. As always, she looked up at him with her big brown eyes, full of love and devotion.
We slept on the floor that long night; every time she moved, or didn’t move, I touched her face to give her some comfort. By morning, we knew it was the right thing to do - allow her to quietly and humanely pass on to the world of endless treats, stuffies galore, and greetings by our other family members that have passed before us. Grumps was able to say his goodbye, full of thank you’s and love. I held her has she took her last breath, surrounded by Grumps and Dr. Humphrey.
We’ve struggled to find the new norm; putting away her toys and bed. We’ve received the most wonderful remembrances and notes from family and friends. While our hearts are broken, what’s left is full from the love that Hazel brought to many people. We love you Wonder Dog and look forward to seeing you again!
I wanted to give a special thank you to Chad Lewis from Second Star Studio for the beautiful artwork not only Hazel in her halo, but also the other artwork used on my blog. If you have a need for beautiful artwork, he’s the guy!
