Wild Dogs

Do dogs grieve? Should your dog be there when another dog is euthanized?

Grief doesn’t always announce itself.

Sometimes it looks like an empty bed. A routine that no longer makes sense. A house that feels just a little too quiet.

One part of losing a dog that we rarely talk about is what happens to the ones left behind.

When it came time to say goodbye to Scout, I kept asking myself the same question.

Should Charlie be there?

Would it be kinder to shield her from that moment? Or would it be harder for her to spend the rest of her life wondering where her sister went?

I still don’t know if there’s a right answer.

We were fortunate enough to say goodbye at home. Charlie stayed on her place bed nearby as Scout peacefully took her last breath.

Then, in the instant Scout’s heart stopped, Charlie stood up.

She began sniffing the air with urgency. Her eyes fixed on a place beyond us, as though she were watching something neither of us could see.

I can’t explain what happened.

Maybe it was coincidence. Maybe it was instinct. Or maybe there are parts of love and loss that don’t need an explanation.

What I do know is that Charlie was different afterward.

Not dramatically. Just quietly.

At night she wandered from room to room, unable to settle. She moved from the floor to her dog bed, then somewhere else, only to come back again a few minutes later.

For the last two years, she had fallen asleep beside Scout every night.

Scout wasn’t one for cuddles. She usually tolerated Charlie’s need to be close with the kind of patience only an older sister seems to have.

Now there was only empty space.

So I bought Charlie a stuffed animal that looks like Scout.

I don’t know if she sees it as Scout. I don’t know if it brings her comfort.

Maybe it was more for me than it was for her.

But grief has a way of reaching for familiar things, even when we know they can’t replace what we’ve lost.

Scout was diagnosed with histiocytic sarcoma, a rare and aggressive form of cancer that attacks the immune system’s cells. Here’s what I learned…

1. Blood work can’t detect all cancers. I naively thought that by getting yearly blood work and X-rays, I’d be able to catch cancer early. By the time her blood work detected something was wrong, her platelet count was too low for chemotherapy or any other form of treatment.
2. Cancer is sneaky. This particular cancer can present as arthritis because of the way it attacks the joints and muscles. Scout likely already had arthritis, so as her symptoms worsened, it was assumed her arthritis was flaring up. It wasn’t until a lump formed on her shoulder that the vets suggested it could be something else.
3. Pet insurance is worth it. The only way they were able to see what was wrong was through an MRI, which ended up costing $5,000.
4. Cancer is the leading cause of death in dogs. Approximately 47% of senior dogs pass away from cancer related causes.
5. “A week early is better than a day late.” This is a comment I read that had a big impact on my decision. Her fate was inevitable. We exhausted every possible option, but it was too late. Keeping her around meant we were just waiting for her to get worse. There was no escaping the reality that it was her time.

I made this account to educate dog owners. The only thing I can think to do with this situation is share my experience so others can learn from it.

Scout’s memory lives on in Wild Dogs. 💜

📸 Shout out to Karly wenzel for these amazing photos she took a couple of years ago. I’ll cherish them forever.