Three or four hours after Butterfly’s death, Cricket did something she never does: she brought a mouthful of kibble into the living room, dropped the pieces onto the carpet, and ate them kibble by kibble. Did she mean to mimic Butterfly’s favorite way of eating? Was she consciously honoring her sister’s memory? Or did Miss Butterfly find a way to join with Cricket for just a moment to visit us and say goodbye?
I don’t know.
Cricket and Platypus, after.
I didn’t expect Butterfly to die, not yet. I counted her age from the day she came home, almost five years ago, and tried to ignore the eight years in the puppy mill that came before. Yes, she’d been in the hospital, but she was getting better. She’d coughed a bit the night before, but no more than was usual for her over the past year. Her bark was strained, yes, but I thought it was from a sore throat and it would pass.
Miss Butterfly
Mom came into my room at 6:30 in the morning, carrying Butterfly in her arms and saying, she’s making strange noises. Just the way Butterfly was limp and awkward in Mom’s arms told me that something was very wrong. She made some sort of wet hiccupping noise as Mom put her down on my bed. And then blood poured out of her mouth, and her eyes rolled back, and more blood poured out of her nose.
She was gone, but I couldn’t believe it. I checked for her pulse and couldn’t feel anything. Mom said she could feel a faint movement in her chest, and then nothing.
I kept my hands on Butterfly, petting her, only because Mom told me to do it; I couldn’t think at all for myself. I could see Butterfly’s hair move as I rubbed her back and I thought, she’s not dead. If I just keep contact with her I can keep her from leaving me. Her pulse is just hiding. It was a lot of blood, yes, but she has more. Doesn’t she?
My mind was split in pieces as I sat there watching her die. No, she was already dead, but part of me didn’t believe it. And part of me was trying to come up with a to-do list (laundry for the bloody sheets, go to the clinic to have her cremated – but she’s not really dead! How dare you even think of killing her! There were all of those meds we hadn’t given her yet, and the diabetes testing supplies, and the diabetic dog food, and the doggy steps next to my bed. She would need them.
I couldn’t move forward in time. I just stayed in that loop, sobbing, and hoping, for forty five minutes. Time was barely creeping by, but then each time I checked the clock, time was galloping past me.
Cricket hid under my bed. Even when Mom went to talk to her, to console her, she hid further under the bed and growled.
I asked Mom for a wet wash cloth and washed Butterfly’s face, but I didn’t want to push too hard, and hurt her.
We put her in her doggy bed on the living room floor and covered her with a piece of soft gray fabric from Mom’s stash. I wanted Cricket to have a chance to say goodbye. It took Cricket a while to come over and sniff the hidden Butterfly, though. I lifted the blanket so she could see that her sister really was under there, and she looked at her face for a moment and then ran under the couch to hide again. I could understand that; I felt the same way. But I re-covered my baby and lifted her bed onto the dining room table, with a towel underneath because the bed had become damp. Mom said that the body lets go of its fluids after death, but I couldn’t think about that. I couldn’t think that she was dead. If I only looked at her back, her tail, her paws, she could be sleeping. But if I looked at her face, I knew she was gone. And I kept reliving that last moment of terrible release, her twisted tongue, her blood flowing onto my bed.
We had to wait until nine o’clock in the morning to call the clinic and ask them what to do, so in the meantime I stripped my bed and took everything to the laundry. I needed something to do, something practical and concrete.
When we went to the clinic, I stayed in the car while Mom went inside to make arrangements. I sat in the back seat, next to Butterfly, and uncovered her tail and her back. Her hair looked normal. As long as I didn’t look at her face it was alright. But then a vet tech came out to the car and reached in for Butterfly. She picked up the doggy bed like a folded piece of pizza and I wanted to yell at her, that’s my baby in there! But I couldn’t speak.
I spent all day Wednesday reading the beautiful comments left on the blog, honoring Butterfly’s special soul and her ability to reach out and spread love wherever she went. All day I forced myself to remember that she was gone. She didn’t need her doggy steps anymore. No more blood tests and insulin shots. No more pills wrapped in peanut butter. No more barks of outrage in the morning when she wanted to go out. No more sous chef resting her chin on the tile leading into the kitchen.
But I didn’t really believe it. She would come back. The clinic would call and say that we made a mistake, Butterfly was awake and needed to be picked up. I didn’t care what was real or possible, I just wanted her back.
I feel like I failed her, like there was something else I should have known to do for her. But most of all I miss her. She brought out the best in me, the kindest, warmest, most compassionate parts of me. I liked myself more when I was with her. I liked everyone more, because I had her with me. And I want her back.
rachelmankowitz 
The disbelief after one’s dog has passed is incredible. We have done the same with each dog we have lost over time. One of our dogs died at the groomer’s parlour from a stroke. At least the groomer picked up Bella after the stroke. Bella wagged twice and then was gone. Total disbelief for the groomer who nearly closed her business after the trauma and total disbelief for us as we were on the way to pick both dogs up from their grooming, only to find Bella laid out on the groomer’s table. I could not believe Bella had passed until I had a look at her eyes. Total shock for us all. I can understand Cricket’s change of behaviour Rachel. Cricket is suffering her loss of a life long companion. Just give Cricket lots of pats and attention and a few extra walks do a lot too, to ease the stress of it all. I feel for you all.
Thank you. Miss Cricket is trying to find her way through this, but she’s confused. She doesn’t have the words.
It doesn’t seem right to “like” such heartbreak as the loss of Miss Butterfly. You and your Mom and Cricket and Miss Butterfly have all been in my thoughts and prayers these last few days. Please know that You All are in my heart.
Thank you, We have been so lucky to have so much love sent our way.
I sit here weeping at these words…I want her back for you, too. I’m so sorry…so truly sorry.I wish I had better words to offer you some comfort. Please know that we are thinking of you and your Mom and Cricket with love and compassion.
Thank you. Having company as we work our way through the grief is priceless.
Thank you for sharing with us, Rachel…all of it, every part of it. There is a whole village behind you, holding you in our thoughts, sending you love and peace. Butterfly had an unimaginably blessed life with you. Don’t you ever doubt that. Hugs.
Thank you. I keep trying to look at pictures of her, full of life and joy, to remind me that her last moment was only a moment.
It was that…just a moment and you were brave enough and powerful enough to bear witness to it…to process it into something mighty. You are a crucible for transmitting loss back into love.
Thank you. I’m trying.
So sorry for you, but don’t blame yourself. Life is beyond our control much of the time. Memories are all we can honor and hold forever. xoxox
Thank you. Memories are a wonderful thing.
Living with you, your Mom and Cricket was a dream come true for Butterfly. Your joy in her company was her joy. You took very good care of her. Be kind to yourself in the way you are kind to others. You are very kind and loving. I can tell from the stories you share about your puppies and other things. Lots of love. ❤
Thank you. I was so lucky to find Butterfly when I did and to have her in my life as long as I did.
Rachel, I just… I have no words. I am so sorry and you have my sincerest condolences. I cannot even imagine how much of a strange nuance in transition this will be for Cricket.
I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry. Peace to you.
Thank you. Cricket is doing her best to make sense of the absence of her sister, but it’s hard. Even if she could speak, I don’t think she’d know what to say.
We will always want our beloved doggies back. And then we learn little by little to carry them with us everywhere we go. Bless you for loving her so much.
Thank you. Miss B was so easy to love, from the very first moment.
Nothing much to say about it. You have me in tears. Give Cricket lots of hugs, it’ll help you both.
Thank you. Cricket did let me pet her and kiss her head, but she drew the line at hugs. She’s grieving, but she’s still Cricket.
I’ve thought about Butterfly many times since you posted she was gone, and I prayed for her because I wanted to.
A brief story to say that more than likely Cricket “knows”.
When my mother was alive, there was a teacher who lived in the house behind hers. He owned three dogs that barked constantly at night. Eventually my mother complained. The teacher was responsible and put his dogs inside at night so their barking stopped. All was well for a couple of years when suddenly one of the dogs began to howl during the day as if it were in pain. This went on for a couple of days, and my mother was concerned that perhaps the dog was hurt. When she went to talk with the teacher, he told her one of three dogs passed away and apparently one of the two living dogs missed the other dog so much that it cried (howled)..
It’s heartbreaking, for all of us.
💔
This proves that humans are not the only ones with emotions and a loss affects everyone who cared, no matter if they walked on 3 or 4 feet.
Absolutely.
I’m in Texas, crying with you and crying for you. ❤
Thank you.
Oh Rachel, it’s hard to lose such a sweet pet but to have been there experiencing first hand must have been beyond incomprehensible. My thoughts and prayers are with you, your mom and Cricket. May tender memories of your little girl provide you with comfort as you move forward. 💔 I am profoundly sorry at your lost.
Thank you. It was awful, but at least she was home, instead of with strangers, at the end.
Indeed, being at home at the end is always better, for them and us. ❤︎
I couldn’t read that without crying myself. I’ve lost so many dogs over the years, and have never forgotten any of them, nor have I ever stopped missing them. It hurts. But it sounds like you gave Butterfly a wonderful 5 years, the best years of her life. I know she died happy. And you’ll see her again someday.
Thank you. I hope so.
Thank you so much for sharing this with us- Butterfly, and all of our canine companions, leave such a deep mark on us, and it is staggering what their loss does to us. My thoughts and love are with you!!
Thank you.
When we lost our Phoebe a while back, we went out the very next day to the pound and brought a homeless dog. One friend said we were heartless, replacing Phoebe so soon. But we weren’t replacing Phoebe. It’s just that our other dog Frieda needed help and a new friend. We still miss Phoebe, but we love our pound dog Rufus. He was at the pound for 5 months, and desperately needed a home. I think Phoebe helped us select Rufus.
I wish I could be that strong. I worry that any dog I brought home right now would not get my full attention and compassion, because I would be looking for Butterfly the whole time.
Give Cricket a little scratch behind the ears for me.
She will love that.
I want her back for you, for your mom, for Cricket. For everyone. It helps to write about it. Sometimes. 💔❤️
Thank you. I wish, I really do wish.
Dear butterfly, May you rest in peace, because we all love you very very much!
Thank you. I hope she will.
I knew something was not right when I saw your post on a weekday. I didn’t want to read it, because I just knew. I want Butterfly back, too. I want to read about her and Cricket, and see that sweet little face. Rachel, it is so hard to even know what to say. But I am so sorry and send much love to you, your mom and, of course, Cricket.
One thing I have discovered this week is that there is no wrong thing to say, if it is said with love. I have received so much love to help me through this loss and I am truly grateful.
I am so sorry. 😥
Thank you.
It so hard to accept the loss of these precious little parts of our heart. Little Cricket will need to be very near you for awhile. My heart goes put to you.
Thank you. Miss Cricket has been surgically attached to my Mom for days, and that seems to help both of them.
Little cutie, they grieve same as we do some folks don’t realize they have emotions very similar to us.
I don’t know if it is worse at the final moment to be there or not be there. I’ve had both and wouldn’t say one is “better” but maybe being there is less worse.
Maybe.
A Butterfly from a hurricane – she beat the odds again and again and I am pretty confident that she hit the jackpot the day you spotted her at the rescue shelter. If only we could keep on rescuing them forever, it is so hard to lose them. Love to you, your mum and little Cricket. ❤️❤️🐾🐾
Thank you.
My heart goes out to you and your mother. I wish I could ease you hurt. Through you, Butterfly brought joy all over the world. (I hope you will consider letting another little one into your life. I know we all would love hearing about her.)
Thank you. Cricket will need a new sibling, but we’re going to take some time before moving forward.
I refuse to “like” this post, but I’m sad for you and sending hugs.
Thank you.
OH dear Rachel- my heart broke when I read this- I know the pain – I am so very sorry for you and your mother and Cricket. You were such a wonderful parent to Butterfly, and thank you for sharing her with us.When my Sammy died I made a photo album of him, with the many photos I loved, so I would always have it to look at. I have never stopped missing him and our other dog Max. They stay in our hearts forever. Sending you love and hugs ❤ ❤
Thank you. My Mom put up a framed picture of Butterfly the day she died. At first I thought it would overwhelm me, but instead, every time I see her I feel comforted.
I agree- it keeps them close to us
I am so sorry to read the news about Butterfly. I hope you find comfort in knowing what a good mama you were to her.
Thank you.
It’s heartbreaking to lose a beloved dog. Please don’t feel guilty about Butterfly. You were with her in her last moments and she knew that. She had a good life with you. Find comfort in the fact that she is not suffering and embrace her memory.
Thank you. I will try.
It’s hard to say anything encouraging when someone loses a dog that was a part of their life and family. You know the day you get them that they are going to leave this earth long before you do, but it doesn’t really sink in until it happens. I think losing a cherished pet is like losing a big part of yourself after years of being their soul provider and receiving their unmatched loyalty and affection. Who else is as forgiving, accepting and happy to see you each and every time you return home; even if gone only for seconds. After eight dogs I know this for sure; the moments of heartbreak are worth every minute of the years of joy they give you.
I agree. Even feeling the way I feel right now, I know you’re right.
Rachel, as I mentioned in my comment last week, I know what you are going through since I am too, having lost my “little Marble”. Although I was on vacation at the time, the pet sitter reported that he too had bled from the mouth and nose. Marcel and Marceau, my other cats were with his body all day since she had left in the morning when he was fine, but coming back found him cold and stiff. I like to think that being with him all day gave Marceau and Marcel an instinctual understanding of what happened. And although Marcel cried in the kitchen a lot (where Marble died) he has calmed down now.
I also have half a vial of pills, prednisolone, which Marble had been taking to control his inflammable bowel disease. Lastly, I’m sure you understand what I mean when I say life is rather quiet for me and Marcel and Marceau without the antics of our Little Marble. but I guess in your case, Cricket contributes enough antics.
May you find peace in knowing you gave her five wonderful years of love
Even though Cricket has always been the loud one, it is strangely quiet here without Butterfly.
I am so sorry that you (and all of us who enjoy reading about your babies) lost Butterfly. I loved reading Butterfly and Cricket stories. I hope you know you really did do everything for that precious pup. Hugs to you, your mom and Cricket
Thank you.
There is no failure wherever love resides. Only the truth of deep connection. Separation is the illusion…
Thank you, and I hope you are right.
When I lost my very dear cat Chela with whom I was very deeply bonded, one day as I was mourning her, in a ‘dream/vision’ between sleeping and waking she stepped out of a picture of her I was looking at. ‘Don’t remember me as a dead image”, she expressed. I am here!” She then literally escorted me to where she was staying then: a clearing in a woodsy area with all sorts of animals and a small wooden stage in the center. Chela jumped onto the stage (looking very spry): “This is Linda, who I’ve told you about!” (Several animals of various species were listening.) So I stepped onto the platform and greeted them all and thanked Chela and told them all how much I love Chela and always will!
That’s beautiful!
I know how hard it is. There is really nothing anyone can say about that part.
Butterfly was so precious. She will be in our hearts forever.
Thank you.
It’s only goodnight and God bless for now. You’ll see her again 🙂
I hope so.
I know so 🙂
Butterfly died on her own, not because of you. That doesn’t make losing a pet any easier. I can cry just thinking about our much loved dog not being with us. Now you just spread your love to Cricket.
Thank you. Miss Cricket is ready.
When we lost Our Molly last year I remember having the same feelings and thinking if only I had done something different she would be here….we still miss her everyday but as time passes you began to concentrate more on the happy memories of the time you shared. Sending good thoughts and prayers. 💔🙏🏻
Thank you. I’m looking forward to the happy memories; I know how many there are.
Rachel Butterfly will always be with you. You were such a great mom to Butterfly. She could not have gotten a better place to be after her time in the puppy mill. It is because of what dogs like Butterfly went threw and are going threw right now that I am always on the fight to hopefully close puppy mills down. My Felix died in my arms at the end of my bed. He had a stroke. BabyGirl was there with me when he passed. I let her sniff him and she knew. When sleeping at night afterword BabyGirl let out the loudest most sorrowful cry I have ever heard. It continued for a while night after night. Then it stopped. But every once in a while she will let out that cry in her sleep. To this day she misses him. I know that BabyGirls time will be coming. She is 1/2 German Shepard and 12 years old. Thankfully she has no health issues except arthritis. She is very healthy for her age.I am so thankful for that. I just so dread that day coming.
I can’t imagine how it felt to hear that cry.
It’s often said dogs’ lives are so short because they’re just too good for us and if they lived longer it would be even harder to see them pass. But I prefer to believe that they never really leave us. They just…go away for a little while and wait for us to catch up and rejoin them. Butterfly will be with you always.
Thank you. I hope that’s true.
So sorry to hear this.
Thank you.
My heart aches for you Rachel. I know the pain of losing Butterfly is visceral and at times almost unbearable. You shared her with the world; we felt as if we were beside you experiencing her cute quirks. It’s a difficult journey between their passing and the day when our lips curl into a slight smile as a memory comes to mind. She will always be with you and I believe with all my heart you’ll see her again. The bond we share with them simply can’t be broken.
Thank you.
Open unto us, the gates of mercy Oh God before the closing of the gates… yea the day is done. The day vanishes, the sun is setting. Let us enter thy gates. May the lord bless you’re going out; your coming in, from this time forth and forever. Amen.
-The Union Prayer book for Jewish Worship, Volume 2
Amen.
My Maltese, Rosie, passed away while I was out, buying chicken for her. I was devastated. Her letter sister, Trixie, acted as though nothing had happened. They had been rivals during their lives, so perhaps that was behind it. It takes a long time before the pain of loss starts to fade… My thoughts are with you, and have been ever since I learned the awful truth.
Thank you. I’m so sorry about Rosie.
Butterfly knows how much you loved her and always will ❤
Thank you. I hope that’s true.
I’m so sorry for your loss. I had an amazing cat named Clickers, who I lost years ago. He was 12 years old. He was my baby. I’ve had animals pass away at an old age, and I always accept it, because they had a great life. But Clickers was young. He felt young. He was sick months before he passed. Meaning I had to take care of him. I felt like I failed him when he was gone. What made it worse was I had to basically force feed him. Because he was always so weak. I kept him alive. But the look he gave me when I did that was so traumatizing. The look on his face questioned why I was doing this to him. He wanted to go. But I loved him, and didnt want him to. It was heartbreaking. Ill never forget it. I tear up even to this day. It’s hard knowing what the right thing is to do. Just keep in mind that you gave her a great life. It’s what I do with my animals now. I spoil them, and accept that they make messy mistakes. Because they love us nonstop. I know that if Clickers had lived, he would have forgave me. Because, we loved each other. I miss him like crazy. But will always keep in mind that loved animals know when its time for them to go. Suddenly or not. They accept it, even if we cant. Just from that one look Clickers made, made me realize that we have to be strong and accepting. Because they already know how.
I think you’re right. Butterfly was always smarter than me about the important things, like love.
that was very touching… a big hug to cricket… ;o(
Thank you
So sad….
💕🌺💐❤️😔
So sorry to hear about your dog.
Thank you.