This past Monday morning, after watching her decline throughout the weekend, we brought Cricket to the vet to end her life. She was sixteen years, two months and three and a half weeks old.
So many times over the past weeks and months we had thought Cricket was nearing the end, and we told ourselves that if she was in the same state in the morning we’d take her to the vet and put her to sleep. Almost every time, Ellie would sleep in Mom’s room overnight, instead of mine, watching over her sister, but when morning came, Cricket would wake up ready to try again; demanding to try again.
Except, in the last few weeks, each time Cricket bounced back, she was a little shakier and a little more uncertain than the time before. We held onto what the vet had said, that if she didn’t eat for three days she was suffering, as our guide, because we didn’t want her to suffer, but we also didn’t want to cut short her life, even a day sooner than necessary.
She still needed the ACE (doggy valium) in order to tolerate her daily subcutaneous fluids (I still have the bite marks from the few times I tried to do it without the ACE, even in her last week), and I was able to take advantage of her time on the ACE to do some grooming that she would never have allowed otherwise: making sure she was clean, and could see as clearly as her foggy eyes would allow, and could grip the floor with her feet, even if she didn’t have perfect control of her legs.
So many people who would never think of assisted suicide for a family member, think it is the only compassionate thing to do for a pet, and I see their point, and even agree with it most of the time, but each time someone hinted to me that it was time to let Cricket go, I disagreed. Dogs can’t speak the way we can, but after sixteen years I knew Cricket, and I knew she wanted to stay as long as possible and she wouldn’t appreciate us making that decision for her, even if it was made with love and compassion and a wish to save her from further pain. But also, however much I want to believe in the Rainbow Bridge, and heaven, and the persistence of the soul beyond the body, I know that death is final. Even if there is something that persists after death, it’s not the same as the life we know.
And I kept thinking of Dina, our lab mix who died at sixteen years and two months of age. Dina couldn’t hold herself up anymore by her last day, but she was still eating, folding herself around her bowl of food. At the time, the decision to let her go was made because Mom was going away to New Zealand for a few weeks and I would be left alone to care for a dog who couldn’t see or hear and was crying in pain. But it still felt too early. If Mom hadn’t been leaving, we wouldn’t have gone to the vet on that particular day. We would have waited. It may have only been one or two more days, or a week, but I felt guilty for that decision. I still don’t know if it would have been right or wrong to wait longer. Maybe there’s no right or wrong in this.
Our goal with Cricket was to make her as comfortable as possible; to maximize her happiness and minimize her pain. The prolonged hospice period was hardest on Mom, because Cricket insisted on sleeping next to her Grandma, and if she couldn’t wake up in time to get to the floor, she’d pee on Mom’s bed (we had a special set up to protect the bedding, with a wee wee pad and towels and mats, but it wasn’t always enough). But even with all of that, Mom didn’t want to let her go either. So we waited, and we did our best. We spent a lot more time holding her, and wrapping her in towels and blankets to keep her cozy. Her bones were sharp under her warm t-shirts, but we worked hard to hear everything Cricket was saying, about what she wanted, and what she could tolerate.
At a faculty meeting for synagogue school, the week before Cricket died, we did an exercise for the holiday of Sukkot where we passed the Etrog (the citron that’s used as one of the four species for the holiday) around the room. The Etrog, this oversized, lumpy cousin of a lemon, is said to represent the heart, so each of us was asked to hold the Etrog to our chests and say what we were holding close to our hearts right then – a goal, a person, a moment of joy, a realization, etc. – and I said Cricket, I’m holding my dying dog to my heart, and then I went home and literally held her next to my heart for hours.
That night, or the next, when we carried Cricket outside to join Ellie for her evening walk, her friend Kevin, the mini-Goldendoodle, heard us and came running, and Cricket’s little tail wagged and wagged, and she pushed herself to walk faster to get to him, to follow him, to sniff him. After a little while she got worn out and came over to rest by my leg, to let me know she was ready to go back inside; but just seeing her with him, perking up and finding joy in his presence again even for a few minutes, reassured me that we were doing right by her.
And then, a few days later, she stopped eating, and then she stopped drinking. She couldn’t stand up on her own anymore, even though she desperately wanted to, and we knew it was time. Her life was so full and rich and complicated and true, and she gave us every last drop of herself and squeezed everything she could out of her one life, but it still felt too soon to let go. Maybe it always will.
When we came home from the vet, I started to clean: doing load after load of laundry, picking up the wee wee pad path, folding Cricket’s t-shirts and sweaters and putting them away in the closet. And the apartment felt so quiet without her; so big and empty. But then there was Ellie. She was confused, sniffing the places where her sister should have been, looking to us for an explanation, and then climbing up onto the couch for comfort, keeping us close to her so she wouldn’t lose anyone else.
It will take all of us some time to get used to a world without Cricket. It doesn’t seem real, or even possible, that she’s gone. I think part of me believed that Cricket would live forever, because she wanted to, and because her spirit was so indomitable. The idea that she, like all of us, was mortal, just feels impossible. Her presence is everywhere is our lives, and her absence is everywhere too. But I take great comfort in the knowledge that she knew, all her life, no matter what, that she was loved.
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Yeshiva Girl is about a Jewish teenager on Long Island, named Isabel, though her father calls her Jezebel. Her father has been accused of inappropriate sexual behavior with one of his students, which he denies, but Izzy implicitly believes it’s true. As a result of his problems, her father sends her to a co-ed Orthodox yeshiva for tenth grade, out of the blue, and Izzy and her mother can’t figure out how to prevent it. At Yeshiva, though, Izzy finds that religious people are much more complicated than she had expected. Some, like her father, may use religion as a place to hide, but others search for and find comfort, and community, and even enlightenment. The question is, what will Izzy find?
rachelmankowitz 
Oh dear, as if this past week weren’t painful enough. I will remember you and your family in my prayers! 😢
Thank you!
Rachel–I am so very sorry. Cricket was loved–by so many more than she knew.
I hope she did know. She would have loved it!
My heart reaches out to you. Our furry friends wrap their paws around our hearts. It is so hard to make a decision like that.
Thank you!
Oh my 😪
Fly free little Cricket, playing forever in spirit with Butterfly and Dina. Thank you for sharing your life and love.
Thank you! She would have loved to be able to fly!
Oh Rachel. Sorry for your loss. Cricket has been such a feature of your life and your blog. Thinking of you and yours.
Thank you!
blessings🙏🏼❤️❤️❤️🙏🏼
Thank you!
We are so sorry about Cricket….sending prayers. 💔
Thank you!
I’m so sorry for your loss, I know you will feel it profoundly for a long time.
This a beautiful and very real account of what pet owners go through when this decision has to be made. You certainly did right by Cricket, letting her guide your hand through this process.
Thank you so much!
Can’t bear it, I know what you’re going through, having lost two of my canine buddies in the past. I’m thinking of you.
Cricket is waiting for you on Rainbow Bridge.
I really hope so. Thank you!
So hard, I know.
I went through this myself on Wednesday with our sweet dog Molly. The void is huge indeed.
So sorry for your loss. It’s so hard to fathom.
Definitely. Peace and blessings to all of you who loved and cared for Cricket.
I’ll be keeping you and your family in my prayers.
Thank you!
So sorry to hear about Cricket. A lot of people have come to know her and we all will miss her. They have so much love to give and ask for so little in return it is difficult to say goodbye. Bless you and Cricket.
SAM and Tami
Thank you! Cricket asked for pretty much everything in return, and she got it.
I’m so very sorry for your loss Rachel. Elsa and I are sending you gentle thoughts of comfort. I know all too well what the past few days have been like, it’s just been 4 months since my beloved Norman took the journey across the Bridge. May the passage of time provide you with beautiful memories where sorrow lies now. 💔
Thank you so much!
I am so sorry for your loss! I’ve had to guide multiple animals through end of life, and your statements about second guessing and trying to give them every minute that they want ring so true. Cricket wasn’t an easy dog, but it makes the hole she’s left behind so much harder to fill. She was larger than life, and you shared your love for her in all of your posts. May she stay by you all on silent paws as long as she is needed.
Thank you so much!
What a lovely and loving tribute to the beautiful being that Cricket has been to you, your mother, and dear sweet Ellie . Your heart-felt words brought tears – tears of sadness at her passing and tears of joy for all of the love she and you shared with each other. Be as gentle with yourself for as long as you want and need. Cricket’s love was unconditional. May her memories be a blessing.
Thank you so much!
My hugs for Cricket’s passing. As hard as it is, it’s the last full measure of our love for them, we just help the crossing, and end any pains or suffering. She was a wonderful companion, and your posts honor her for memories for you and us. Hugs again.. Rachel… be strong…
Thank you! Hugs help a lot!
My condolences for the loss of your precious Cricket.
Thank you!
I wonder where the “Sad” or the “I Care” button is when I need it? I join your other blogging friends telling you, “I am so sorry for your loss.” Yes, all of us pet lovers have been there. God gives us these unconditionally loving furry friends whose life spans are shorter than ours so that we can experience the joy of such love and the pain of loss and learn how to live each day with a positive attitude (tail wagging, ready to catch the ball, fun-loving) regardless of our circumstances. God bless you – and Cricket. Thank the Lord for assuring us when we get to the Pearly Gates, our furry friends will be there to greet us. If they are not, keep going…. you haven’t reached the right gate yet!!
Love that! Thank you!!!
I posted about Cricket tonight. Hopefully you will hear from some of our mutual blogging friends. See it at http://www.janbeek.blog
Thank you so much!
Yes, I always feel strange hitting “like” for something so sad. Brought tears to my eyes. Thinking of you, Rachel!
Thank you!
I am sorry. My heart is breaking for you.
Thank you!
I am so sorry.
Thank you!
I’m so sorry about Cricket.
Thank you!
Oh, sending so much love to you all, including Ellie. Thank you for making her memory a blessing vicariously for me. Your post was beautiful and, through it, I am inspired by her life.
Thank you so much!
So sorry, Rachel. Keeping you, your mom and Ellie in our prayers.
Thank you!
“So sorry for your loss” seems to not express nearly what I mean, but I am hoping that your wonderful memories of Cricket will pull you through this dark time.
-Julie
Thank you!
I have tears. Your beautiful testimony to cricket was powerful. May cricket test in peace. This week has been too hard. With deep sympathy, Vickie
*rest in peace
Thank you!!
I am so sorry for your loss Rachel. Cricket was a part of your family and losing any family member is hard. A beautiful tribute post to Cricket. Stay well. Allan
Thank you!
Dear Rachel There are never words worthy of the heart opened to the core from accompanying the transition of one so loved as to mirror the soul. Thank you for sharing Cricket online these several years. May the Blessings Be! Linda Watts
Get Outlook for iOShttps://aka.ms/o0ukef ________________________________
Thank you!
OMG I’m so sorry Rachel what a touching post this was to read. Much much love to you, Mom & Ellie in this time of loss. 😔🐶😇🤗❤️🩹
Thank you!!
I am so sorry to hear of your loss. I agree that death is final. All living things are comprised of energy, and energy never dies, but agreed, it’s “not the same as the life we know.” I hope you’re comforted in knowing that Cricket had a good long life.
There’s a lot of comfort in that.
I’m so sorry for your loss
Thank you!
Another post it feels wrong to “Like.” But it’s clear you did what was best for Cricket even if your heart was breaking.
Thank you!
That decision is one all of us with elderly dogs struggle with so this post is one I can feel with you. In the end there is really no greater gift we can give anyone than to let them know they have been loved as they have loved us. There is a quiet, such a quiet, when we lose part of our family that is with us every minute of every day for a very long time. I will hold you and your mother and Ellie next to my heart.
Thank you so much!
I’m sorry for your loss Rachel. Hugs
Thank you!
Take care 🤗
Seeing suffering is a theme everywhere these days…but when little friends have to go, it goes even further straight to our own hearts…at some point it gets to the point where you have to overcome the inner bastard in you so that our little friend doesn’t have to suffer too much – and it’s just a little comforting that hopefully they had a long life…and we were able to make their suffering as bearable as possible and animal friendly.
May their little soul behind the Rainbow Bridge…find an even more beautiful world, like this one in the past.
At the same time, however, I am currently also thinking of the many innocent victims that your state of Israel is currently suffering, although it is not my religion – and I hope that there will still somehow be ways out in order to return to humanity in a sensible way and not end up in the Stone Age….
Praying for peace for everyone.
I’m so sorry, Rachel! You are in my thoughts and prayers.
Thank you!
So sorry Cricket’s time had come. You should take heart in knowing that she knew how much she was loved. 💕
I do. Thank you!!!
We are sorry for cricket. Cricket was delightful to look at..
Thank you!
Oh so sorry to hear this. But I love that you held Cricket close to your heart and gave her as much time as you could so she had joy her last few days.
Thank you!
I’m so sorry about Cricket, and I’m sorry that Ellie will be alone. I am glad to hear that Cricket lived a rich, full life, though, and I know you have many happy memories of your time together. God bless you.
Thank you!
All life is precious, especially dogs, and their loyalty can never be understated. We have had to put down our younger disabled dog and it was painful but his suffering became too much for him as he was a safety risk in his final days. Our oldest died at 19 years, just shy of twenty and that was painful as my wife had to deal with it because I had to travel. It is never an easy decision to end the precious life of a loved one.
It’s awful. But it helps to know I’m not alone.
Rachel, you gave her everything she needed and when she needed you to make the hard decision, you did that too. 💔 It’s never long enough, but 16 years is a nice long life for a pup.
Thank you!
I am so very sorry for your loss 💔 Like you say we don’t want them to suffer, but we also don’t want to cut their life short. It is a very difficult decision. We once had an old German Shepherd who had cancer and she died at home on her bed but in truth she did not need the last couple of days, and we regret that. After that we always put our dying dogs down when it got bad enough.
You gave cricket a very long and wonderful dog life and she was very loved.
Thank you so much!
Sending supportive thoughts to your family during this difficult time. Handling the loss of a beloved family member is never easy. Cricket had a lovely, long life surrounded by those who loved her.
Thank you!
We have an old dog called Molly who is probably on her last legs too and we will have to make those same sad decisions also. I’m not looking forward to it….
It’s awful. Just know you’re not alone in this.
Sorry about Cricket. R.I.P.
Thank you!
Just heartbreaking. She had a long life, and you cherished her in a way some dogs never know. My sincere condolences, Rachel.
Best wishes, Pete. x
Thank you so much!
Sending thoughts and love, it’s a truly rotten time when we have to say goodbye x
Thank you!
I’m so sorry Rachel, those last days with our old dogs are so painful. It never feels like the right time for us, even if it’s the right time for them. xxx
So true. Thank you!