This blog is pretty late, but I figured it was better late than never.
On April 20th around 10:30pm, my dog (and best friend) passed away.
It hit me (and is still hitting me) incredibly hard. Suki has supported me quite significantly over the years, i've hit some bad times but he was -always- there to come keep me company or cuddle when I needed a friend. That dog had a knack for knowing when I was upset.
Even up to the day he died, he would greet me, wagging his tail happily when I got home. Though on the 20th, he could barely accomplish that. Yet he still tried his hardest. He always seemed to make it like he was okay, he'd wag his tail and lick us and try to move around as usual.
Suki was a Japanese chin - Bichon mix. He was black and white, and when we went to the vet she mentioned he had some of the best and cleanest teeth she'd ever seen from a dog his age, heh.
We'd had him for about 7 or 8 years, though it feels like we've always had him. I don't remember times without him.
EDIT: Two bad pics from my phone
It's amazing how bloody difficult mundane, daily things became. I can't come home from work without feeling a wave of dread. Suki was always either sitting at the window, wagging his tail enthusiastically, and barking, and running to the door, then back to his window, then back to the door, or he'd be asleep when you got home, but the second you were through that door, he was wagging his tail like mad and soo happy to see you. I remember i'd come home sometimes and he'd be on his beanbag chair, upsidedown, wagging his tail like crazy.
Dinner is hard too, every single day after dinner, i'd walk Suki. It was just a thing. The second I got up from the table, he would too. He'd run to his food and wait for me to give him a little something special, then he'd run to the door and stand there waiting for me to get ready to go out. He'd bark quuite enthusiastically and run around like crazy as soon as he heard the word "walk".
This blog is a bit of a mess, buut it's more of me venting for myself than anything. I've been keeping a lot inside.
On April 20th around 10:30pm, my dog (and best friend) passed away.
It hit me (and is still hitting me) incredibly hard. Suki has supported me quite significantly over the years, i've hit some bad times but he was -always- there to come keep me company or cuddle when I needed a friend. That dog had a knack for knowing when I was upset.
Even up to the day he died, he would greet me, wagging his tail happily when I got home. Though on the 20th, he could barely accomplish that. Yet he still tried his hardest. He always seemed to make it like he was okay, he'd wag his tail and lick us and try to move around as usual.
Suki was a Japanese chin - Bichon mix. He was black and white, and when we went to the vet she mentioned he had some of the best and cleanest teeth she'd ever seen from a dog his age, heh.
We'd had him for about 7 or 8 years, though it feels like we've always had him. I don't remember times without him.
EDIT: Two bad pics from my phone
We weren't sure what was wrong with him. it started with a nosebleed that seemed to be from an injured nose. We didn't think much of it, but after a few days it didn't go away, so we took him to the vet. He was still fine at this point, happy, energetic, playful. The vet gave us pills to give him to help his nose heal properly. Pretty much as soon as we started giving him the pills, things went downhill.
He lost his pep, his playfulness, his energy. He barely ate, and barely moved around. Sometimes he'd regain himself and play, but...for the most part, he wasn't the same dog.
We phoned the vet, concerned, but the vet said it should be fine, just to halve the dosage of pills. Didn't do much. When we finally took him back, they did xrays on him...this is where I got concerned, because Suki absolutely hates being held by anyone but me, and my mom usually. People don't hold him right i guess. Well when I handed him to the vets assistant, he didn't even bat an eyelash. Not did he even look at any of the cats wandering around (and he really hates cats).
Over the course of the events, he eventually started having trouble breathing. I assumed because of his nose.
When we got him back, my mom was shown the xrays. They said it was likely just a fungal infection, but it may have been cancer...but due to Suki's age, it wasn't likely that. But we were told we'd get their proper analysis the next day. Well the next day was friday, and we got nothing. They were closed on weekends, we had to wait it out until monday to hear from them.
His breathing was obviously tied to the fungus in his lungs...and it kept getting worse and worse every day. He was also incredibly skinny because he wasn't eating...
Unfortunately...Suki didn't make it. He passed away on saturday, and my dad made a little coffin and we buried him on sunday.
The vet phoned on monday. Not like it mattered...but we were told Suki had cancer. It was incurable. Even if he had survived, he would have only suffered until he inevitably died from it
Cue crying, I almost made it.
I could go on forever over the unfairness of it all. Suki had never been sick, ever. This was the first time, and of course...it had to be something like this.
I feel I got to say a somewhat proper goodbye, but I wish I had been beside him when he passed...but I was stupidly optimistic that he was going to be okay.
After work and not that long before he did eventually pass, I had carried him to his food and water to get a drink, then outside to see if he needed to do anything. When we were outside we both just sort of...sat there. It was quite chilly and I was in shorts and a tshirt, but I didn't care. I just sat there looking at Suki.
Carrying him...should have given it away. He usually pushes a bit, to position himself properly in my arms. But that day he lay limp in my arms. He was a warm, weezing bundle of fur. I probably should've known something was up.
He lost his pep, his playfulness, his energy. He barely ate, and barely moved around. Sometimes he'd regain himself and play, but...for the most part, he wasn't the same dog.
We phoned the vet, concerned, but the vet said it should be fine, just to halve the dosage of pills. Didn't do much. When we finally took him back, they did xrays on him...this is where I got concerned, because Suki absolutely hates being held by anyone but me, and my mom usually. People don't hold him right i guess. Well when I handed him to the vets assistant, he didn't even bat an eyelash. Not did he even look at any of the cats wandering around (and he really hates cats).
Over the course of the events, he eventually started having trouble breathing. I assumed because of his nose.
When we got him back, my mom was shown the xrays. They said it was likely just a fungal infection, but it may have been cancer...but due to Suki's age, it wasn't likely that. But we were told we'd get their proper analysis the next day. Well the next day was friday, and we got nothing. They were closed on weekends, we had to wait it out until monday to hear from them.
His breathing was obviously tied to the fungus in his lungs...and it kept getting worse and worse every day. He was also incredibly skinny because he wasn't eating...
Unfortunately...Suki didn't make it. He passed away on saturday, and my dad made a little coffin and we buried him on sunday.
The vet phoned on monday. Not like it mattered...but we were told Suki had cancer. It was incurable. Even if he had survived, he would have only suffered until he inevitably died from it
Cue crying, I almost made it.
I could go on forever over the unfairness of it all. Suki had never been sick, ever. This was the first time, and of course...it had to be something like this.
I feel I got to say a somewhat proper goodbye, but I wish I had been beside him when he passed...but I was stupidly optimistic that he was going to be okay.
After work and not that long before he did eventually pass, I had carried him to his food and water to get a drink, then outside to see if he needed to do anything. When we were outside we both just sort of...sat there. It was quite chilly and I was in shorts and a tshirt, but I didn't care. I just sat there looking at Suki.
Carrying him...should have given it away. He usually pushes a bit, to position himself properly in my arms. But that day he lay limp in my arms. He was a warm, weezing bundle of fur. I probably should've known something was up.
It's amazing how bloody difficult mundane, daily things became. I can't come home from work without feeling a wave of dread. Suki was always either sitting at the window, wagging his tail enthusiastically, and barking, and running to the door, then back to his window, then back to the door, or he'd be asleep when you got home, but the second you were through that door, he was wagging his tail like mad and soo happy to see you. I remember i'd come home sometimes and he'd be on his beanbag chair, upsidedown, wagging his tail like crazy.
Dinner is hard too, every single day after dinner, i'd walk Suki. It was just a thing. The second I got up from the table, he would too. He'd run to his food and wait for me to give him a little something special, then he'd run to the door and stand there waiting for me to get ready to go out. He'd bark quuite enthusiastically and run around like crazy as soon as he heard the word "walk".
Not all is sad and i've tried to keep positive, he was an amazing dog by my standards and he was quite the character.
Ever since we got him, he absolutely refused to let us lead his walks. He -always- pulled as hard as he could. Even with a choke collar, it didn't phase him. He'd pull and weeeze and make everyone think we were choking the poor little guy, but he was completely unharmed by it. he had a throat of steel, I swear. I still think that's how he survived as long as he did, years of conditioning of functioning while not being able to breathe properly.
He'd pee on dozens of things across the span of our walks. He loved marking his territory. Even if he just did the motion but had no pee left, he still did it. Sort of an odd fact, but I always found it funny.
Even when he was incredibly sick, he loved his walks. Even though he walked way, way slower and didn't pull, I could tell he was enjoying it.
He absolutely loved icecream and cheese, though a bit later in his life he seemed to become allergic to both, and they made him itchy.
We used to put icecream in a bowl, and he'd chase the bowl around (making quite a racket) licking it clean.
He hated water, absolutely hated it.
He'd do one of two things when we said "bath".
1: Immediately stop everything and run out the doggy door and hide in the yard
2: Play possum so it was absolutely impossible to pick him up properly.
After his baths, he'd always be incredibly hyper and run around like crazy. Any time he was wet, he got like that.
Despite hating water, he loved snow. He'd bound like a bunny through it since he wasn't a huge dog. It was adorable.
It'd get stuck in little snowballs on him, and I remember when we did my paper route, my mom would take him for a walk spanning my paper route. By the end he could barely walk because he'd have SO many snowballs stuck to him from the snow.
Many times he'd also come inside after burying his face in the snow. His face would be absolutely covered in snowballs.
Suki seemed to project my feelings for my sisters friends. If I disliked them, Suki would bark at them and never learn to like them. If I was okay with them, he generally barked at first but then warmed up to them quickly. Dunno if he emulated my feelings, or was just a good judge of character.
My dad has an RC truck. A few times we went to a baseball diamond and drove the truck around, and let Suki chase it. He would haul ass after this thing and try to grab it mid driving. Few times he actually DID grab it and lifted it slightly. It was hilarious how fast Suki could run after this thing.
Suki hated loud noise. He would fight the vacuum to the death. He always tried to bite it. Whenever he'd bite something like that, he'd try grab a hold and then run off with it.
For some reason he also hated brooms and would do the same.
Suki was incredibly good with his paws. He could hold things better than i've seen any dog do. He always grabbed my hand if I stopped scratching his belly and he'd hold my hand to his belly and refuse to let go.
When he was young I nicknamed him Houdini, because he ALWAYS escape our yard. He found every single nook and cranny, and even when everything was blocked off he managed to escape.
There were times Suki would escape, but all he'd do is wander the neighborhood, then wander back. One time my parents actually left the house and no one else was home when he had escaped. So when they came home he was laying on the front step waiting for them like "where the heck have you guys been?"
I think i'll end it at that, but i've got tons more memories. He was a really funny little dog.
Ever since we got him, he absolutely refused to let us lead his walks. He -always- pulled as hard as he could. Even with a choke collar, it didn't phase him. He'd pull and weeeze and make everyone think we were choking the poor little guy, but he was completely unharmed by it. he had a throat of steel, I swear. I still think that's how he survived as long as he did, years of conditioning of functioning while not being able to breathe properly.
He'd pee on dozens of things across the span of our walks. He loved marking his territory. Even if he just did the motion but had no pee left, he still did it. Sort of an odd fact, but I always found it funny.
Even when he was incredibly sick, he loved his walks. Even though he walked way, way slower and didn't pull, I could tell he was enjoying it.
He absolutely loved icecream and cheese, though a bit later in his life he seemed to become allergic to both, and they made him itchy.
We used to put icecream in a bowl, and he'd chase the bowl around (making quite a racket) licking it clean.
He hated water, absolutely hated it.
He'd do one of two things when we said "bath".
1: Immediately stop everything and run out the doggy door and hide in the yard
2: Play possum so it was absolutely impossible to pick him up properly.
After his baths, he'd always be incredibly hyper and run around like crazy. Any time he was wet, he got like that.
Despite hating water, he loved snow. He'd bound like a bunny through it since he wasn't a huge dog. It was adorable.
It'd get stuck in little snowballs on him, and I remember when we did my paper route, my mom would take him for a walk spanning my paper route. By the end he could barely walk because he'd have SO many snowballs stuck to him from the snow.
Many times he'd also come inside after burying his face in the snow. His face would be absolutely covered in snowballs.
Suki seemed to project my feelings for my sisters friends. If I disliked them, Suki would bark at them and never learn to like them. If I was okay with them, he generally barked at first but then warmed up to them quickly. Dunno if he emulated my feelings, or was just a good judge of character.
My dad has an RC truck. A few times we went to a baseball diamond and drove the truck around, and let Suki chase it. He would haul ass after this thing and try to grab it mid driving. Few times he actually DID grab it and lifted it slightly. It was hilarious how fast Suki could run after this thing.
Suki hated loud noise. He would fight the vacuum to the death. He always tried to bite it. Whenever he'd bite something like that, he'd try grab a hold and then run off with it.
For some reason he also hated brooms and would do the same.
Suki was incredibly good with his paws. He could hold things better than i've seen any dog do. He always grabbed my hand if I stopped scratching his belly and he'd hold my hand to his belly and refuse to let go.
When he was young I nicknamed him Houdini, because he ALWAYS escape our yard. He found every single nook and cranny, and even when everything was blocked off he managed to escape.
There were times Suki would escape, but all he'd do is wander the neighborhood, then wander back. One time my parents actually left the house and no one else was home when he had escaped. So when they came home he was laying on the front step waiting for them like "where the heck have you guys been?"
I think i'll end it at that, but i've got tons more memories. He was a really funny little dog.
This blog is a bit of a mess, buut it's more of me venting for myself than anything. I've been keeping a lot inside.
