Our family has had a tough couple of days. A tough couple of weeks, actually.
We are experiencing the loss of our first family pet. Echo, our 11 year old shepherd mix was laid to rest yesterday morning. While we are all mourning her loss, seeing how heartbroken my children are over losing her is by far more painful than I could have ever imagined.
How do you help yourself and loved ones through grief? The best I can do is to talk about it. Remember the good and the bad times, and to encourage them to allow these strong feelings to be felt and expressed in healthy ways.
Where it all began
11 years ago, Bryce and I had just moved into our first home. At the time I was a student and he worked overtime in a factory. We had one shepherd mix, Tanner, who was (and still is) the most obnoxiously trusting and friendly dog that has ever graced this planet.
We quickly realized that living in the country without good phone reception with a dog who wouldn’t hurt a fly (and couldn’t intimidate one if he tried) didn’t equate to proper protection.
Enter Echo
We had really good success with our puppy adoption from a local shelter two years prior with Tanner. So when we decided to add another dog to our family, we knew we wanted to adopt again. We hopped online and found a listing for rescued shepherd mixes that were available the following day.
We spend hours with those puppies, trying to find the one with the most mild temperament. We settled on a little female we named Echo, who had the tendency to follow us around more than the others. Tickled we made another good choice we brought the little fluff-ball home and introduced her to Tanner.
Boy, were we bamboozled!
Her mild temperament didn’t last long! She quickly became a mini-terror. Nothing withstood Echo and her destructive powers when she had it in her mind.
Power cords, drywall, carpet, subfloor and even the front of our new couch were all torn to shreds in her fits. Collars and leashes were easily chewed through, and she had an affinity for jumping right through screen windows.
(We learned this after the one time I left her unattended briefly at my Pepaw’s house outside. I ran in the house for something really quick, and the next thing I knew she was inside their kitchen with us. Yikes!)
She also had an affinity for foods that should have been toxic for her. Such instances include her eating a 4 lb double chocolate fudge brownie cake, an entire bag of raw onions, and even a 2lb container of raisins. After copious amount of worry and larger than normal doses of hydrogen peroxide (we thought she was going to explode) she was given the clear from the vet. After these encounters we would joke that she had a stomach of steel.
Then one day she encountered the all-you-can-eat buffet known as, the trash can. We had a strong suspicion that Echo was the one wrecking the trash, but we could never prove it until one day my husband set up a motion detecting trail camera in the kitchen before we left for the day. We doubt we had even made it out of the garage before…
Kenneling her could hardly contain her separation anxiety. She would simply rip the walls down and her metal kennel would be found in pieces. She would even burrow down through the kennel, shredding the plastic lining, the carpet, the subfloor beneath…
We tried different crates, trainings, essential oils, herbs, music, a weighted vest…
Rehoming her was never an option. For all the trouble we had in those early years, she was very good and respectable citizen when she had a job to do. If we went out in public for walks or to the store she was all business. We definitely did get a protector with Echo. She was very mindful, weary of strangers, and had no nonsense for anything other than keeping us safe while on leash.
Fetch was hands down her most favorite past time. She would play ball until she physically couldn’t bring it back any longer. Tongue hanging out of her mouth, flapping in the wind as she ran. She would jump higher than you’d think possible trying to catch the ball if it bounced.
When we had children
Echo changed after we began having children. She was still very high strung, and had a naughty streak for opening the pantry when we weren’t around. Loaves of bread were the ultimate temptation and still were up until a few months ago.
But she went from only having a job while in public, to constantly looking after the boys. After we moved to the farm, she left sleeping in our room for sleeping with the big boys every night.
Each baby was gently and patiently taught the art of “fetch” by Echo, and sometimes she would share her pantry plunders with them.
Echo and Alder
When our third son arrived, Echo was a seasoned baby whisperer. The other two boys loved her and would play ball with her but never really sought out the attention of either of our dogs at any age.
Alder, however, had been madly in love with both dogs since the very beginning. He is very generous with his affections, and Echo took every ounce of attention he had to offer. They had their own special language, and when Alder made his Echo call (a mix between a howl and a baby grunt) she was always right by his side to either cover him in kisses or to accept a giant baby hug.
Saying Goodbye
Echo’s condition went downhill very quickly. We noticed some changes in her eating habits about 6 weeks ago and began working with our vet right away. Her liver enzymes were through the roof and she had a constant fever. We put her on several medication and had some huge changes to her diet and overall nutrition (and detox baths).
Unfortunately she continued to decline.
We spent her last day playing fetch. As much as she was able. To see her eyes light up one more time when I asked, “Where’s your ball, girl?” just about broke my heart.
She is now buried on our farm at the highest point on the hill, underneath a blanket of pollinator seeds to mark her final resting place. We told the boys we picked this place so she could forever watch over the farm.
I hope that we continue to remember her fondly for who she was to us. A loyal friend, fierce protector, and a Good Dog.
The Journey Forward
We will definitely need time to heal. Each of us are going through various stages of grief, and while we are doing our best to help, the boys are trying to manage our own as well.