It's been a hard couple of hours. Over the weekend, Franklin damaged his eye on something in the house or yard. He was still in good spirits and after the past six months of nursing back to health from a bacterial infection, things were on the mend.
I made the appointment for Mr Beans and we were faced with a ruptured eyeball. We could take a wait and see approach(it could just explode at any time and then what would we be faced with?), have an expensive surgery to save the eye or have it removed completely. Our only option would have been for removal and I wasn't sure I could put him through that at this age.
I rescued him and Ginger when Snowflake was two years old. They were dumped at a shelter after their owner sold their puppies and their kid was suddenly "allergic to pugs." Frank didn't like people, specifically men and let them know it. While this is unnatural for a pug, he eventually mellowed out over the years.
Thinking about putting him through surgery and wearing a cone for two weeks AND more antibiotics felt like too much! The guilt I feel is so heavy because Frank was a fighter. I am so thankful my love came with me to the vet. He wanted him to have the surgery. I could not. Should I have? I don't know, but I do know that I have been crying for hours on end. I opted to work from home because I couldn't be a red eyed, stuffed up ball of raw dough at my desk.
When I made the decision, my husband said he couldn't be in the room. They took Frank away to put a catheter in him and I waited alone for a very long time. They had trouble getting the line in. But brought him in, they did. He was wearing his little soft pajamas I got him. The most tragic thing is that I do not believe that he wanted to go! He fought against it. I told him how much I loved him and how sorry I was.
He was laying down on his side. He went limp and then with the second injection, his little heart stopped beating. His eye open. My heart breaking, my soul stupefied and stuttering.
So you try and rationalize things. And then you second guess yourself. He was gaining weight and getting better! Yet, he was fragile and stumbly. Finally found a great food he liked! I had to pill him every morning. That FUCKING eyeball. That fucking, fucking eyeball.
I am traumatized by witnessing the passing of that sweet soul. So I sit here, working from home. I deleted all of my social media and this is the only thing left. It is comforting and somewhat soothing to write it out.
I put away his special food. I have the blankets that he slept on balled up next to me. I grab them and smell them and squeeze them. I made a mini shrine on the buffet with his dog bowl with the food he didn't finish in it. His little wool sweater and antlers he loved so much in the bowl. My heart breaks.
Mr Beans was pure love and he lived for me. Lived for ME! So genuine and loyal. Life is a precious, fragile gift. It can change at any moment. For good or for bad, there is always hope. When you lose hope, you lose everything that Mr Beans stood for in this world. Kindness, love, compassion, warmth and forgiveness. I know I have to forgive myself, but it is hard!
Mr Beans was known for his "pirhanna" move in his healthful years. He would lunge at your face for a face smash with you. As he got sick but still felt good, this morphed into selective kisses. Those kisses were heaven sent. This past weekend we brought him upstairs to our bed to lounge. It was so good. Before he went to the vet yesterday, I came home for lunch and walked him around the yard, he ate and had a pedialyte pop. He had another one before we went to the vet. Mother Fucker. Not Frank. Just me expressin'.
I asked them to make a paw print of his foot. I wish I would have done that before he died. I wish I would have planned a really special day for him knowing now what happened! Next week I will pick him up in a little box. I don't think he will remain there long. I feel so strongly about him! I have to find strength to Un-box the Beans when that time comes.
I'm glad I fed him french fries on Friday. He really enjoyed that! I sent a note to my team yesterday that said this:
I had to say goodbye to Frank today. He ruptured his eye over the weekend and we could have left it or had it removed. I didn’t think it would be fair to put him through all of that(the cone of shame, more antibiotics etc). So I made the decision to say see you later, little guy. It breaks my heart and the kicker is, I truly do not believe he wanted to go! It is the absolute worst thing to experience… to see the life leave such a sweet little vessel wrapped in fur.
I rescued him and Ginger when True was two years old. I am so glad I could give them a good home and a fun life. Don’t believe what anyone says, the truth is that male pugs are the best dogs in the ENTIRE world. They just are. There will never be another Frank, AKA, Mr Beans, AKA Clams Casino, AKA The Beanus Flytrap. Oh Franklin! Some day we shall meet again.
Thanks to all of you who have been so compassionate to me over the past months. I’m devastated. I appreciate your warmth and caring advice and consolation.
I logged into teams and saw that one of my dearest friends is sending flowers. I wish I stayed out of Teams today! I did log out. My head hurts and my heart aches. It is never ever, easy. Waves of love and sadness wash over me. I am without my heart. But I know it will return.
The other dogs don't seem phased at all. I think they may wonder where he is, but they are more concerned about breakfast. Goddamn that fucking eyeball. And in the words of those four legged bangers who carry on, Carpe Diem!