I'm going to warn you ahead of time that this is a pretty depressing, detailed post. I am sharing it with you because writing about it helps me with the grieving process, and Bentley was a huge part of my life. I'm also seeking answers and want to know if anyone else has experienced a similar situation with their dog or Pug, specifically. If you have a story and don't want to share it here, please email me.
Unfortunately, as you may already know, my Pug, Bentley, passed away the second day of January. If you have experienced losing a pet, I'm sure you understand how difficult it can be. I have experienced losing pets before, but there's always been a reason to blame. It's been a hard loss as it was totally unexpected and he was like a child to me. We don't know exactly what happened but after researching, my boyfriend and I are suspecting Brachycephalic Syndrome or a heart attack. I'm also questioning an internal tumor. Bentley jumped up on Jeremy, the Sunday before he passed away, and yelped for no reason, then didn't want to jump on anything the remainder of the night. Then on the day he died, he was about to jump on me until he got the urge to vomit.
Unfortunately, as you may already know, my Pug, Bentley, passed away the second day of January. If you have experienced losing a pet, I'm sure you understand how difficult it can be. I have experienced losing pets before, but there's always been a reason to blame. It's been a hard loss as it was totally unexpected and he was like a child to me. We don't know exactly what happened but after researching, my boyfriend and I are suspecting Brachycephalic Syndrome or a heart attack. I'm also questioning an internal tumor. Bentley jumped up on Jeremy, the Sunday before he passed away, and yelped for no reason, then didn't want to jump on anything the remainder of the night. Then on the day he died, he was about to jump on me until he got the urge to vomit.
Bentley had gotten sick (a mucus yellow/orange) on Monday, December 30, but didn't show any other symptoms that he was feeling ill. Wednesday morning, we saw that one of the dogs had gotten sick in the middle of the night. Jeremy and I assumed it was Bentley because he had gotten sick on Monday. The vomit was all food so we thought maybe he just ate too fast or something. Again, he was acting completely normal. He's vomited in the past and I've been able to tell if he needs to go to the vet.
On Thursday, January 2, Jeremy woke up around 7:00 a.m. to let the dogs out. They both went outside, went to the bathroom, and ran back inside. Bentley stretched on Jeremy's leg, as he always would, and was running around the house all morning. We had a guest, Scott, in from out of town who was downstairs and said Bentley was acting just fine. Around 9:15 a.m., I opened the bedroom door and was greeted by Bentley and Chloe. Bentley was about to stretch on my legs but stopped and I could tell he was about to get sick. I told him it was okay as I patted him on his back. After he got sick, I said "Okay, let's go outside, bud." to get him some fresh air. He ran down the stairs to the kitchen and I could tell he was going to get sick again, he did, then I put him outside. This was the process we did anytime any of the dogs would get sick: let them outside. I was watching Bentley from the kitchen and thought he looked a little off balance when he walked. I saw him walk around the corner of the garage and immediately had a bad feeling. I threw Jeremy's shoes on and ran out to follow him. When I turned the corner, I found him laying on his side in the snow. His eyes were open and his tongue was kind of hanging out of his mouth.
I panicked and scooped him up as I tried to snap him out of whatever had happened. He showed a quick reaction, like a jolt, when I touched him to pick him up, but he was dead weight, not helping me at all like he normally does. I brought him inside the kitchen and screamed for Scott's help. We didn't know what to do and could tell Bentley's breathing was getting slower. There's an animal hospital within a minute from my house so I rushed him there. He survived Parvo and two malignant tumors, so I thought as long as I could get him to the hospital, he'd make it. He was a fighter. Sadly, he had already stopped breathing before we got to the hospital and the doctor wasn't able to revive him. She said she could perform an autopsy but "didn't think she'd find anything". She also told us his airway was open but she believes he may have aspirated. I considered an autopsy but with the doctor's lack of confidence, I didn't want to put his little body through that. We will never know for sure what happened, and that's what makes the process even more difficult.
I spent the last seven years being his protector. I would take him to the vet anytime I thought there might be something wrong. As soon as we'd get there, he'd crawl up my leg, begging to be held, and I would eat those moments up, because I knew he needed me just as much as I needed him. Like a mom with her sick baby. I'd quickly pick up him and hold him to let him know that everything was going to be okay. That if he was with me, he'd be safe. When there was nothing I could do last Thursday, I felt I had failed as his mom. That I failed to protect him and save him. In a matter of three minutes, the little guy I loved more than anyone could ever understand, was gone. I've had many sleepless nights as the scenario of that day keeps replaying in my head and I can't get it to stop. I can't help but think I should've done this, or shouldn't have done that. I'm trying to get myself to come to terms that I can't keep playing the blame game and that whatever it was that happened, was out of my control. I hate knowing that have to go on without him. That sometimes unexplainable and unfair things happen and we're forced to carry on.
Jeremy and I are absolutely heart broken. I wish there was something I could have done to save him and would do anything to have him back. While it's extremely hard on us, I hope our other dog, Bentley's sister, Chloe, is okay during this process. The two have always been together and were like soul mates. So far, she seems to be doing well but we've been trying to distract her with bones, car rides, and loads of extra love and attention. She sometimes seems lonely or bored so we've considered getting her a new buddy to have by her side. We plan to let her pick out the dog and will only do this once we think the timing is right.
Thank you to everyone who reached out to us via calls, texts, Facebook, and Instagram. It truly means a lot to know that we have so many people who care, and who cared about Bentley.
I was lucky enough to have almost seven of the greatest years with him. I helped deliver the little guy when he was born and he truly was my family. He was there with me through the good and ugly times, my first apartment, my first house, relationships, and all of life's moments in between.
I'm going to miss having to "give him permission" to eat. Hearing him bark at everything that passes by the living room window and every animal that appears on TV. Him getting so excited when I roll the vacuum out of the closet, then him rushing to eat his food once I turn it on. Having to turn the volume up on the TV because he snored so loud. Him barking and yelping in pure joy when I'd ask if he wanted to "Go to grandma's house?". His little paws that smelled like Doritos. Him greeting me at the front door when I'd get home from work. His tail that was the tightest curled tail I have ever seen. Him getting in my face to "sniff out" any scented chapstick or lipgloss I put on my lips. Him greeting me in the morning by stretching on my leg, which I believe was his version of a hug. The way he knew we were leaving the house or going on a a walk, just by me picking up his collar. How he sometimes wouldn't get up in the morning to go potty until we had our "moment"; me talking to him, saying good morning, and rubbing his belly while he laid on his back. The way he begged for scraps, then would nibble it from your fingers so gently, careful not to hurt you. The way he took care of his sister. How he'd lay on my bed while I folded laundry. The dimple on his chin. The way he could never get enough kisses and would eventually just start licking the air. His crusty little nose. The way he would wait for Jeremy to kick his feet up on the couch, then set his chest right against Jeremy's feet, waiting to have his belly rubbed. The doggy cartwheels he'd do when he peed. How he'd jump at the opportunity of an ice cube falling out of the freezer. How he would do "laps" around the house, just to scope everything out. I could go on with this list forever, but mostly, I'll miss the unconditional and irreplaceable love he brought to my life.
On Thursday, January 2, Jeremy woke up around 7:00 a.m. to let the dogs out. They both went outside, went to the bathroom, and ran back inside. Bentley stretched on Jeremy's leg, as he always would, and was running around the house all morning. We had a guest, Scott, in from out of town who was downstairs and said Bentley was acting just fine. Around 9:15 a.m., I opened the bedroom door and was greeted by Bentley and Chloe. Bentley was about to stretch on my legs but stopped and I could tell he was about to get sick. I told him it was okay as I patted him on his back. After he got sick, I said "Okay, let's go outside, bud." to get him some fresh air. He ran down the stairs to the kitchen and I could tell he was going to get sick again, he did, then I put him outside. This was the process we did anytime any of the dogs would get sick: let them outside. I was watching Bentley from the kitchen and thought he looked a little off balance when he walked. I saw him walk around the corner of the garage and immediately had a bad feeling. I threw Jeremy's shoes on and ran out to follow him. When I turned the corner, I found him laying on his side in the snow. His eyes were open and his tongue was kind of hanging out of his mouth.
I panicked and scooped him up as I tried to snap him out of whatever had happened. He showed a quick reaction, like a jolt, when I touched him to pick him up, but he was dead weight, not helping me at all like he normally does. I brought him inside the kitchen and screamed for Scott's help. We didn't know what to do and could tell Bentley's breathing was getting slower. There's an animal hospital within a minute from my house so I rushed him there. He survived Parvo and two malignant tumors, so I thought as long as I could get him to the hospital, he'd make it. He was a fighter. Sadly, he had already stopped breathing before we got to the hospital and the doctor wasn't able to revive him. She said she could perform an autopsy but "didn't think she'd find anything". She also told us his airway was open but she believes he may have aspirated. I considered an autopsy but with the doctor's lack of confidence, I didn't want to put his little body through that. We will never know for sure what happened, and that's what makes the process even more difficult.
I spent the last seven years being his protector. I would take him to the vet anytime I thought there might be something wrong. As soon as we'd get there, he'd crawl up my leg, begging to be held, and I would eat those moments up, because I knew he needed me just as much as I needed him. Like a mom with her sick baby. I'd quickly pick up him and hold him to let him know that everything was going to be okay. That if he was with me, he'd be safe. When there was nothing I could do last Thursday, I felt I had failed as his mom. That I failed to protect him and save him. In a matter of three minutes, the little guy I loved more than anyone could ever understand, was gone. I've had many sleepless nights as the scenario of that day keeps replaying in my head and I can't get it to stop. I can't help but think I should've done this, or shouldn't have done that. I'm trying to get myself to come to terms that I can't keep playing the blame game and that whatever it was that happened, was out of my control. I hate knowing that have to go on without him. That sometimes unexplainable and unfair things happen and we're forced to carry on.
Thank you to everyone who reached out to us via calls, texts, Facebook, and Instagram. It truly means a lot to know that we have so many people who care, and who cared about Bentley.
I was lucky enough to have almost seven of the greatest years with him. I helped deliver the little guy when he was born and he truly was my family. He was there with me through the good and ugly times, my first apartment, my first house, relationships, and all of life's moments in between.
Today's post is dedicated to him: My Bentley. Bentley Boy. Sweet Boy. Mr. Bigs. Mr. Magoo. BooBoo. The sweetest, most handsome boy and best dog, in the entire world.
March 27, 2007 - January 02, 2014
"All dogs go to heaven. All Pugs go to paradise."
"All dogs go to heaven. All Pugs go to paradise."
