Huskies' Christmas in July: Visiting a Christmas Past on #FlashbackFriday

 

FiveSibes #Flashback ~ "Wolfie"  above and 

"Harley" below ~ December 2015

 

With this being the last week of July, I thought it fitting to do a Christmas in July #FlashbackFriday. This is a special #FBF... different from my usual as it is an introspective and emotional one. I thank you for taking the time to go down Memory Lane and share this one with me, and you may need a tissue or two...but do get to the end, as I hope to leave you feeling lighter and maybe a (teary) smile.

It's still hard for me to talk about Christmas 2015.

 

The 2015 holiday season kicked off with devastating heartbreak for me, with unbeknownst to me, more to come. First up, my dear mother passed shortly before Thanksgiving, after a fall back that summer right after her 94th birthday. She was in rehab for a broken foot, but then suddenly began her decline, never to come home again as four months later, she passed on. 

 

#Flashback ~ my "Gibson" ~ 2015 

Before Gibson went into hospital, he was on IVs at home. 

I gave him an early Christmas with some special toys pictured here.

 

Then, my beloved Gibson—who fought as a brave Epi-warrior since he was three, and who I thought I would be burying my grief of losing my mother with hugs into his silky wooly fur along with some Gibbie kisses that I was relying on from my soul dog to help me through—suddenly collapsed over his water bowl out on the deck. 

 

At first, I thought he was just being his silly self with the water bowl. Now, here we were in the middle of December, Christmas just a short couple weeks away...and he was not joking. I had all I could do to lift him up (my boy was a big boy weighing in at 98 pounds)...even using his lift harness, I could not help him up. He did not want to move. He could not move. Red flag. Long story short...it was a frantic rush to our after-hours ER clinic where the vet on duty could not figure out what was happening to him and kept busy focusing strictly on the microscope slides of his puzzling blood sample. Me, frantic, requested wet towels and blankets, explaining he had epilepsy and his temp was then dangerously high at 107 and I was worried he would go into seizures. My boy was flat out, his life draining out of him. I was asked if I was a vet, to which I replied, "No, but I know my boy and what he needs."

Gibson, almost fully unconscious by that point, was wheeled out on the stretcher into another room, where he and I were left there. No explanations. Nothing. I again requested cool wet towels and a fan, then began hugging, and crying, and promising my boy I would not leave him. I finally got the wet towels and fan. No meds. No care. 

 

I suspected the ER vet thought I'd be saying my goodbyes. F--k that. Not my boy. I would always fight tooth and nail for my five. I placed a call to my vet (Gibson's lead vet) at 2:30 AM (I had his personal number, that's how wonderful he is), hysterical, that they were just letting my boy die. My vet immediately called the ER hospital and then they jumped into gear to listen to me and give him care until my vet could open our regular office and get him transferred there. Once transferred there, they went to work immediately. 

 

While all this was going on, my daughter kept our other four together in her place. The top two photos will show you just how sad they were waiting, especially Harley, Gibson's love; and his little brother, Wolf.  

 

My vet believed in treating the symptoms while trying to figure out the cause. THANK YOU. Gibbie loved my vets and the whole staff there; he was always treated with such care and love, like he was a star! So I know he felt their love as well as mine. For a week, he had to get IVs. Gibson, weak, came home where I tended to him and the vet tech came to my house to administer the IV of fluids to him. Turns out, his spleen had ruptured. Our vet team worked diligently and lovingly to help him get strong enough to undergo a splenectomy surgery.

 

That's when my vet had "the talk" with me, "not as your friend, but as your vet." I knew what that meant. We agreed that if he went in to do the splenectomy and discovered that it was bad...he needed to know what my wishes were. I needed to make a decision. I said I never ever wanted my boy to suffer, but to please try to do whatever he could. However, if it was bad, to let my Gibson go peacefully. (Okay, I'm bawling right now. I have not talked about this fully since).

 

(Tissue break). My big, brave, beautiful boy managed to walk, yes walk, although slow and with help from a lift harness, to the car the morning of the surgery. He wooed from the back of my Jeep to his true love, Harley, and his younger siblings Wolfie, Chloe, and Bandit, who were all wooing to him from the back deck. I have a tape of this because in my heart, I hoped he'd be coming back home and I wanted to reflect on how close and loving of a pack family they were. Note: If you'd like to hear this video, you may visit my post HERE.

 

But Gibson did not come home. The dreaded phone call came. Gibson had an orange-sized tumor behind his spleen and his stomach was full of cancer. Hemangiosarcoma. Without getting a chance to say goodbye, my boy was peacefully let go to make his journey north of the Rainbow Bridge. My last words to him, before he went in for the surgery, was how much I loved him and that I'll see him in a little bit. My only solace is that he loved my vet team and probably even gave them his famous Gibbie kisses before being put under anesthesia. So he was happy in their care...and peacefully went to sleep...forever.

#Flashback ~ Winter Solstice, December 2015 

"Harley" sniffing Gibson's bandana and collar on his portrait

with a candle burning in his memory.

 

My heart still hurts so much. He was THE best dog. He was my truly my soul dog, my spirit animal, my heart dog. I have amazing stories of just how special our connection. 

 

Gibson bravely fought epilepsy–and won. He was seizure free for the last seven years of his life. Yes, we had some close calls over the years and a horrid, almost fatal bout of bromide poisoning, but he rallied back like a champ. Then he tore a CCL, but we did Conservative Care Management with rest, ice, laser therapy, PT (given my me), and a lift harness...and he again bounced back to where he was even running again! One week before his collapse, I did a video of him happily running up our handicap ramp my hubby had built to the tune of "The Fight Song."

And then, he was gone. Stolen from me by damned cancer.

That Christmas was a blur. Between losing my mother and then one month later, 10 days before Christmas, I lost my beloved Gibson. I was grieving. Harley, Wolf, Chloe, and Bandit were grieving. 

 

#Flashback ~ Christmas morning 2015 

Harley, Bandit, Chloe, and Wolfie.

 

To help, my daughter set up a tree for me for which I will always be so grateful, and Christmas came...without my mother or my Gibbie. But both of them would have wanted me to embrace Christmas and it's true meaning and to remember them with all the love we shared, cherishing what we had and would forever have held close in my heart.

 

Okay, pass the tissues, please.

 

So, to this date, I still have a box chock full of cards from thoughtful people across the world who sent me cards in Christmas 2015 to give their condolences on Gib's passing, and heartfelt greetings for my four remaining FiveSibes: Harley and pupsters Wolfie, Chloe, and Bandit. Those cards—still sealed—are in my closet. I occasionally glance at them and smile at all the love from around the world I know is in there, but I still cannot get myself to open them. Not to mention, I have never been able to answer all the comments on the post of his passing. But I know and feel all the love from everyone, and it means so much.

 

Life is funny. Life is wonderful. Life can be heartbreaking. But life, is an incredible thing. What we take away from sad moments is all the love we enjoyed during the times spent together. I was fortunate that I had my four FiveSibes for years after to love and enjoy times together, but the loss of Gibson changed us all. If someone says dogs do not grieve, tell them they do not know dogs at all. They love and they grieve.

 

Now I am completely FiveSibes-less and it's beyond surreal. My mother's and Gibson's losses tore a chunk of my heart away. I like to think Gib had to leave to be with my mother. That would be just like Gibson, thinking he would do that for me.

 

Being with my FiveSibes were some of the best and most fun years of my life. And for that, I'll always be grateful to have been their "FiveSibesMom" ~ forever and always. It's that love that I'm able to continue their legacies with sharing Flashback moments on Fridays to relive some amazing times because Memories Are (Truly) Visits for this FiveSibesMom's Heart.

Merry Christmas in July, my beloved sweet G-man, and all my beloveds...Harley, Wolfie, Chloe, and Bandit. 

 

I still, and will always, talk about you, my beautiful, sweet, beloved FiveSibes. 💖

"So long as the memory of certain beloved friends lives in my heart, I shall say that life is good."~ Helen Keller

 

 

 

 

 

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Happy Friday! 

 

  

 

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