I don’t often share personal stories on this blog. Since I started my website, I’ve generally kept the content focused on food and history. Many writers treat their blogs as online journals where they pour out their thoughts, feelings, and emotions. I never really needed that before now. I preferred to keep my personal life and my website somewhat compartmentalized, at times sharing anecdotes and food-related stories from my home life, but nothing too deep. That changed recently after experiencing the loss of our 9 year-old maltese, Momo. In the midst of my grief, I posted his picture on Facebook and was overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and support– hundreds of comments from people who understood this pain I was going through. Through this experience, I’ve learned there is comfort in sharing these moments… there is solace in hearing from others who have gone through this difficult transition. The Facebook community really lifted me up during a dark time. I wanted to take a moment here on the blog to express gratitude and pay homage to Momo, this little creature who made such a big impression on our lives.
BTW, if you only come here for food, and you’re not interested in hearing about my personal life, I totally understand. This post starts with a bummer and ends with a smile, so feel free to skip ahead to the happy ending, or just ignore it entirely. I won’t be offended, promise.
The picture above is Momo on Thanksgiving, a few hours before we ate dinner. It was a great day for our little guy. He got to see all of his family celebrating together. He spent lots of quality time playing and snuggling with the people he loved most. He also got to eat lots of his favorite food, unsalted turkey breast. It was a good day.
Things went downhill after that. He’d been battling congestive heart failure for several months, and we knew he was in the end stages– it’s a progressive disease, most dogs only live a year or so after their diagnosis. We knew the end was coming, but you’re never totally prepared for it. The day after Thanksgiving, he couldn’t breathe. I took him straight to the emergency vet, just as I’ve done so many times before as he battled this illness. This episode seemed different than the others– his breathing was very labored, he was obviously in more distress. They tried giving him oxygen and strong diuretics overnight to clear his lungs, which has always worked in the past. This time he wasn’t responding, instead he was getting worse. In the end there was nothing more they could do for him. I held him close, cuddled him and stroked his back, as they put him to sleep. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I was shaking from emotion, trying hard to stay strong and fighting my own urge to sob in his final moments. I know it was the right thing to ease his suffering, but the sorrow I felt was incredibly, surprisingly deep.
I think there is an element of guilt that most people feel when they go through this. Even though it’s the kind and merciful choice, you are making the decision to end a life… your friend’s life, your companion who has stuck by you for so long. The whole experience left a hole in my heart– an emotional hole, but it also strangely felt like something was physically missing from inside my chest. I felt hollow and aching and terribly sad. So did my husband. I think we were both surprised at the strength of sadness we felt.
Momo was such a sweet soul. He loved snacking on turkey and sitting in your lap. Whenever somebody was at the door, he’d bark like an attack dog. I think he believed he was 10 times his size. And yet, whenever he met new people he was as friendly and sweet as could be. He wanted nothing more than to please us. There is something strangely fitting about the fact that he had an enlarged heart… he was the kindest, most gentle little pup I’ve ever known. He followed me around everywhere like my little shadow, looking at me with those big brown eyes. He loved it when I’d make matzo ball soup; I’d tear the chicken from the bones in pieces, always saving the best scraps for him. When I was sick, he stuck to me like glue. When I was sad, he would sense it and snuggle closer. Dogs love unconditionally; they never judge you. They only ask for food, attention and kindness. Perhaps that is why losing them is so incredibly difficult. It’s not a complex relationship, it’s as simple as loving and wanting to be loved. If only human relationships were so pure.
After losing Momo, there was a part of me that thought I’d never get another dog. To go through that pain again, to enter another relationship with a dog knowing that the inevitable end comes far too soon, seemed too great a risk emotionally. We have a Labrador retriever, Marley and a cat, Muffin. I held them closer and let the tears flow. It would hit me in unexpected waves– seeing Momo’s old food dish or his bed would send me into a tailspin again. I didn’t blog much. You probably noticed fewer recipes here. I had to hit pause and be easy on myself. I’m sure you understand.
And then, a funny thing happened. My husband and I noticed our Labrador Marley was depressed. He missed Momo, and we missed having the energy of a little pup– a sidekick for our lab. While at first I felt heartbroken and unable to fathom getting another pet, our hearts slowly opened to the idea of adding another companion to our “mishpucha” (that’s Yiddish for family). A feeling of guilt nagged at me– “maybe it’s too soon,” I thought. I couldn’t replace Momo, he was irreplaceable. Then I remembered how depressed Momo used to get when I was sick or sad. He would lay his head next to mine and look into my eyes, just wanting me to feel better. He never wanted me to be in pain, just as I couldn’t stand to see him hurting. He wouldn’t want there to be an empty place in our home, a hole in our hearts. He would have wanted us to be happy.
And so, a few weeks later, my husband gave me a Hanukkah gift… this little guy, Milo.
Milo is a mixed breed, small like Momo. We’re told that because of his mixed parentage, he may be less prone to the genetic problems that led to our sweet dog’s untimely end (of course, there are never any guarantees in life). He’s 8 1/2 weeks old as of yesterday, a tiny ball of fluff and sweetness and spunk. He’s got a different personality than Momo, who was more shy and retiring. Milo is outgoing and ready to play at a moment’s notice. He also loves to snuggle, when he’s tired he’ll relax in our arms like a little rag doll. Our Labrador has been amazing with him so far; I think he recognizes how young he is. Marley has been remarkably gentle with Milo, even when he’s being an obnoxious little brother. Muffin, our cat, is not too happy at the moment, but she’ll adjust. We’ve been giving her lots of extra snuggles to keep her from getting too jealous.
We are in the midst of potty training, multiple daily feedings, and teaching this little guy the ropes. Every day is a new first for him. Yesterday he barked for the first time. Today he climbed down a couple of stairs, which seemed an enormous challenge for his tiny legs. Where sadness hung heavy like a cloud after Momo passed, Milo has brought new light and energy to our home.
The sadness still hits me in waves from time to time. As we lit the candles for Hanukkah, celebrating the third night of the holiday and Milo’s first night with us, we placed Momo’s pawprint next to our menorah. His memory lives on in all of us. I am so grateful for the years we had with him.
Wow. What a tear jerker and so beautifully written.
May you always know the blessing of a deep and abiding love of life.
I know how you feel! I am so sorry for your loss!
So happy you shared your story. Many of us have been through it and know how you feel, but also think about the mitzvah you have done to give these dogs a wonderful and loving home, may you have many years of joy from the new puppy.
It is so hard when we loose our precious little friends….I am glad you got a new pup for your lab tho…and while he doesn’t replace Momo…I know he fills a bit of the hole left in your heart! Thank you so much for sharing this! (And yes I love the food and recipes too!)
Thank you for sharing your story. I have a similar story and we are looking for a new friend too. Happy Hanukkah!
Tori,
I’m so pleased that sharing Momo’s story has helped you, and I hope your family as well. Until you’ve lost a pet, it’s impossible to imagine how painful and difficult it is. I’ve had pets since I was a little kid – fish, birds, hamsters, dogs, cats, snakes, gerbils, and probably more. The pain and sadness of loss is tremendous but I am sadder when I don’t have a pet in my life, so, I eventually get someone new.
My rabbi insists that animals don’t have souls even though he recently has had the greatest dog who passed. I disagree with him completely and know that my animals are waiting for me so when I pass, they’ll be there with my family and friends.
My cat, Johnny, and I lost our dog, Tov, a few years ago and he was the best I’ve ever had. An adult rescue (I couldn’t deal with a puppy) who was sweet, generous, funny, a ball-chasing maniac and my love. In part because I still have Johnny (who loved Tov maybe even more than I did), I chose to wait for another dog. Now, I’m waiting until I can afford one. As I write this my eyes are full of tears and my throat is somewhat blocked.
You are blessed to have had this experience and to know unconditional love and the grief and then the going on of life with the hole. It never fills but it makes the heart grow larger and hold more love and joy.
Be well & please give Milo a hug & a kiss for me.
Kol Toov (all good things),
Marnie
They all stay in our hearts. Welcome Milo.
I am so glad you decided to tell your story of Momo and Milo. I know what it’s like to lose a pet. It leaves a hole in your heart that you think cannot be filled. You never forget that pet, but then another comes along that helps to ease the pain.
Had to put my 14 year old yorkie BO to sleep after 14 years. I’m heartbroken and my 13 year old Lulu missus him to. It’s hard but their love is worth everything
So sorry Diane. It does seem to get easier with time, but the heart is slow to heal.
Your new dog looks just like my Ellie
I’m not reading the entire blog today because I too have lost a beloved pet, a wonderful springer, Callie and a cat, Micky Cats. I will never get over the loss and can’t bare to read about the loss of loved pets which occurs to others. It just brings back sadness. We animal lovers who have let a beloved dog into our lives have to expect this…their lives are too short…but, that is what we have to allow to happen if we wish the joy and love and happiness which comes with living with them. My condolences.
Thank you Stu. I understand completely!
Thank you much for sharing your story.
We can totally relate to you as we’ve had to have many :little special friends (our children), beautiful loving dogs put to sleep after many illnesses. It was so heartbreaking and I did the same as you did. Its not that you can replace your sweet puppy ’cause we can’t they each share their unique personalities and love for us.
Milo is beautiful. Kiss him for us.
God bless you.
Dorothy
My heart is aching for you and your family, Tori. Our 10-year-old Cockapoo died in our arms two months ago, and we still grieve for him every day. It took me nearly three weeks to finally clean his puppy nose prints off the glass next to our front door. Our 90-pound 3-year-old Goldie misses him, too, and gratefully she is a major distraction just as your adorable Milo is for you. Our pain lessens gradually as we get used our Cockapoo’s loss, and we have wonderful memories of him and of all our dogs who have blessed and filled our lives for all these years.
So sorry for your loss Pana. It was so much harder than I ever expected it to be.
Tori – thank you feeling closeness with us that enabled you to share your feelings.
Nothing can ever compensate for losing a pet, a member of your family. I lost my little Shih Tzu Mocha at 6 years old and years later my little Yorkie Chelsea at the same age.
I still think of them both everyday, as you will think of Momo. He will always be with you. As you realize, Milo isn’t a substitute for Momo, he is always going to be different in many ways, but he will help fill the hole in your heart and help you to carry on in Momo’s memory.
Milo looks like a Shih Tzu mix …. stubborn, cute, adorable, loving and a little rascal.
Momo has crossed the Rainbow Bridge and is happily running around with Mocha and Chelsea, no more pain and fear … just eternal happiness.
You’re right Nina, Milo is a shih tzu-bichon frise mix. Stubborn, cute and very loving! I know Momo is eating lots of turkey and feeling complete peace over that Rainbow Bridge…
Thank you for sharing your sweet story about your dog Momo. Our pets do become such a big part in the tapestry of our lives and it is sad when we have to say goodbye to them. Congratulations on your new member of your family. May you have many years of joy with him and may the God of all comfort bring you peace in your lives.
I’ve had a dog and a cat more much of my life. I’m 59 so … have had to let them go. It is never, ever easy and for me, it gets increasingly harder but I would not trade a moment spent with any of them! They are all in my heart forever as I’m sure Momo is in yours.
Milo looks so sweet and love hearing that your Lab is being gentle with the “baby”. (I currently have a 10 year old dog and 1 year old cat. 🙂 !
There are so many dogs and cats that need loving homes. Our hearts all have room, even after a loss. So happy to hear that you made room in your family for a new member…even in the midst of grief for Momo. A very happy Hanukkah to all of you!
Tori,
Thanks for sharing this blog posting. I understand your hesitancy, but am so glad you found comfort in your family’s time to grief. It is so difficult to lose a beloved pet. While Milo won’t replace Momo; he’ll bring a unique joy all his own to your life. Momo will also live on in all your cherished family memories. Your paw print tribute to him is a great way to keep him close during the holiday season.
Good luck to Milo in his puppy training. 🙂 He looks like a Havanese! Wishing you and your family a happy Hanukkah and a blessed new year!
Hi Tori
We have recently lost our Bichon, Teddy going through very much the same as you. I shed a tear or two for you reading your blog. It is so painful and you never forget a much loved pet but I wish you much joy and pleasure with your Hanukah pressie!
Hi Tori,
Thanks for sharing your story. We have our two furry friends who we rely on for laughs and love. I dread the day when we have to say goodbye, but I know that is a part of life. Blessing to you at this holiday time and enjoy your new little one!
Thank you so much Alonna.