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 
So hearbreaking to read your story. Hugs ❤
Thank you.
So sad to lose a beloved pet – they are family!
I agree 😦
I know what this loss to means to you and I’m so sorry you’re going through it. Many hugs for you and for Cricket.
Thank you.
My heart is with you kid.
Terry
Thank you.
I wish I could ease your grief but only time will lessen it – as you know from the loss of your other beloved pets, it never really goes away completely. There is always that longing for more time with them. What is surprising is how resilient the little ones left behind can be – before my current Puffs we had 2 others that were inseparable, and when Dixie passed away I was sure Piper would be inconsolable. She clearly missed Dixie, but she was actually quite fine on her own – eating, playing, sleeping – doing everything with no notable concerns. Sadly, Piper too was gone within a year of Dixie (due to an undiagnosed brain tumour) but for that year she had a full life – us humans grieved terribly the loss of one, and then both beloved little Puffs, but looking back I can see the lesson in carrying on despite the loss of your sidekick – dogs really can teach us so much if we let them.
As always, you are in my thoughts and I send you comfort across the virtual wires ❤️
Lisa
Thank you.
Very sorry for your loss Rachel. Butterfly will be missed by all of us who had the privilege of knowing her. ❤️
Thank you.
Heard from Sheila Morris of your heartbreaking loss. Butterfly was a seriously lucky girl to have had you for the last, best part of her life. Rest well little girl.
Thank you.
Oh, Rachel! you’ve made us all love Butterfly, Cricket and you by sharing your lives with us! Your writing is a beautiful testament to the value you placed on Butterfly’s life. You accomplished more than many of us do in relating how animals affect and improve our lives. You did all you could do–and more–for your furry friends and the friends who eagerly read your blog.
Sending much love~
Adrienne
Thank you.
It’s so hard to part with a pet. I am sorry about Butterfly.
Thank you.
It is very hard to say goodbye to a little loved furry baby. I can just imagine how you must feel. I have had to let go of a doggie and 2 kitties. It was not easy. I remember them so fondly.
You and Cricket and Mom are in my thoughts and I know all will be well. You gave little Butterfly everything she needed to be happy, Your Love.
Take care and look after yourself. Sending you love and hugs. xx
Thank you.
All my sympathy with you. Been through that a few times and sad to say maybe sooner than we think again. The nice is after a pet leaves to wait for us on the other side of the rainbow the memories of the pet become more beautiful. Hugs to Cricket.
Thank you.
Cricket really loves all the things you do for her and she is still there with you. She thinks your the best person she knows. She loves, cuddles and kisses you everyday. She is your best doggy friend. Even though she can’t see you right now she is trying to push through all this and get to you. But, no matter what, she will always be your little guardian angel, always watching over you. So think good thoughts and maybe everything will turn out good in the end.
I would love to think that Butterfly is watching over me, in between snacks.
Butterfly, it auto corrected
I am so sorry about Butterfly. You were so wise to let Cricket see her, so she can understand it as much as a dog can. I have had lots and lots of dogs, usually two or three at a time, and I think one of the hardest things about losing one, is that you just can’t explain to the remaining dog. And then they just keep looking for their friend. When I face this situation again, I will remember how you really considered Cricket’s point of view even as you were trying to absorb the reality yourself.
I was so proud of her for being willing to sniff her sister goodbye, given how frightened she was by the whole experience.
Hugs to you and Cricket. My heart aches while reading this. Miss Butterfly had the most wonderful life with you and Cricket and she knows you did everything you could, you did not fail her. ❤
Thank you.
Sorry for your loss. The pain will fade in time but you will always remember her.
Thank you. I hope so.
Always cherish the memories
I will.
I cherish the memories of all pets I’ve lost even that little kitten we only had a week.
I am so very sorry for the pain and loss you’re feeling. Rest in peace, Miss Butterfly.
Thank you.
With all my heart, I believe Butterfly is in Heaven and you will be some day also. This does not remove your grief now, but I am praying for the Lord to give you comfort, peace and hope. God bless.
My heart aches for you and your loss, Rachel. I know how much you love your girls and what a huge part of your life they are. While there really are no words, please know that there is love and respect for what you are going through.
Thank you.
Sorry for your loss, it’s so hard saying goodbye to them. Hope Crickets not too sad without her sister.
Thank you.
The last photo is so incredible – it shows the special soul of Ms. Butterfly. And her spirit will always be with you! Kindest thoughts sent your way.
Thank you.
I’m so so sorry for your loss! Furbabies leave such an impression on us. Sending hugs and prayers!
Thank you.
I’m so sorry, Rachel. Everything about this is heartbreaking. Just know that many people are crying with you over yous loss of Butterfly. Dogs hold such a special place in our hearts, and I know you will miss her deeply.
Thank you.
Oh Rachel – I am in tears here. I feel like I know you all so well because I have been reading your writings for so long, and I am truly devastated to hear this news. Take care of yourself, hug Cricket lots, and give yourself time to grieve. Thinking of you all.
Thank you.
You tried your best. You got her the best care you could. Sometimes, it’s just their time. I am so sorry for you loss.
Thank you.
Thank you for sharing Butterfly with us on the blog. She was special and you are a wonderful mama. Thinking of you during this difficult time xx
Thank you.
So vividly you captured the heartache that you and so many of us have experienced when losing a pet. The sizable, yet invisible lump that makes it difficult to breathe and to swallow – as if pausing our breath will allow life to come back into the body of our beloved companion. The tortuous minutes before, during, and for what seems like eternity afterward of their final breath. The suspension of time so palpable it can almost be grabbed and shoved in a pocket for safe keeping. Thank you for writing your words of anguish and grief. Others need to know they are not alone when they face grief head on as you have. Your words though painful, offer support and condolences for others. I am so very sorry for your loss; your site is a beautiful tribute to the new life they had with you.
Thank you so much!
xoxoxox
Tearfully as I write, we understand your pain and have had our own dealings with this kind of loss. There is no other way but through it and I am holding a space for you, your Mom and Cricket as you make that journey. Much love to you all.
Thank you!
I am so sorry for you loss. You are really brave and strong writing about it. My thoughts are with you and Cricket.
Thank you.
In the early days of loss, it is such a difficult thing to have time take you further from your last moments with your beloved. I am so, so sorry. You write so beautifully about what you’re experiencing. Sending my warm thoughts.
Thank you.
Sending golden thoughts your way. It’s a tough time and we’ll be thinking about you.
Thank you!
Such a brave and sad post Rachel, you describe your loss so vividly and we can relate to how you are feeling right now. Take care x
Thank you!
I am so sorry. I completely understand how you just didn’t believe and kept thinking they would call and you could go get her. I understand that. So sorry. Perhaps since you believe she brought out the best in you, you can honor her by letting it come out . . .
I feel bad for just now seeing this. I have been away.
She is so well loved. There isn’t much more that we can ask for on this earth. She is blessed to have you. She will always be in your heart, but no words can take away your pain. May you find peace.
Thank you.
I’m so sorry you had to say goodbye for now. It is heartbreaking when a beloved pet is gone. My heart is sad for you. It makes me want to go squeeze my two dogs and shower them with kisses ❤️
Please give them some kisses for me. Thank you.
You know I will.
So sad… I hope you all are coping ok. It’s so heartbreaking to lose someone you love with all of your heart ❤️ It made me cry just reading those words! Best wishes for the future 🙂
Thank you.
checking in, are you doing okay? dexter, in particular, sends prayers and comfort…..Comet would too, but he is snoozing right now….
I am alright. Miss Cricket is spending a lot of time snoozing too, it seems to help her.
I am so sorry for your loss.
Thank you.
You took in a mistreated soul when she was in middle-age and showed her what it was like to be loved. You gave her 5 of the best years of her life, there for her when others might have given up.
I see no failure, only a Butterfly fortunate enough to know what it was like to experience joy.
Oh my god Rachel, I am so sorry. I know that feeling too well, there was nothing you could have done for Butterfly. She was well loved and well cared for by you and your mum and had a very good and happy life.
Thank you. I keep trying to believe that and I hope it will sink in eventually.
So very, very sorry to read this. My heart goes out to you.
What a beautiful post. Much love to you and Miss Cricket. ❤
Thank you.
This is the first post I have read and the most heartbreaking. I cried throughout this entire post, and could feel what you felt. I am so sorry, and no matter what I say, I can’t bring Butterfly back. I’ve watched the life go out of an cats eyes, and it was the most heart wrenching experience, and it wasn’t even my cat. I would be exactly like you whenever the unfortunate day arrives that I lose one of my girls. So all I can again say, is that I am so sorry, and I wish you, your mom, and Cricket peace throughout this horrific tragedy. 😥
Thank you very much.
I want her back for you too, Rachel. So difficult, and you told it so beautifully. I hope Cricket is keeping ok.
Thank you.
I wonder is she flying with angels or did she earn her wings?
Both.
I like how you honored Cricket’s feelings by giving her the chance to see that Butterfly was dead. I did that for my cat when my dog died. They were close and it was the only way I could think of to help him understand what happened. It’s important for the surviving animal, dog or cat, to sniff the body, as they need to see their sibling is dead, instead of just whisking the body away. Of course, we don’t always have that choice if the dog dies at the vet.
Bless you and your mom for taking in a shelter dog and, Cricket too, for being Butterfly’s pal.
Thank you.
OMG ! I am incredibly sorry for the loss of your beautiful dog. How horrific. My prayers are with you. V
Thank you.
I am so sorry. I also will miss Butterfly.
Thank you.
Reading this I felt the feeling you were feeling so sorry for your loss. Beautiful Butterfly thank you for sharing her life in your posts. xx
Hugs
Thank you.
You describe the journey of grieving poignantly, Rachel — disbelief, bargaining, blaming, denial, all the stages that mingle and tumble together and reform as we move from shock back into baby-steps forward with life.
Sweet little Butterfly — she is part of you now — she goes forward in your spirit — and you honor her when you remember to be kind, warm and compassionate. Hugs to you and your family❤️
Thank you.