Throughout the day on Wednesday, Frisco steadily improved! He ate two bowls of food, drank water, and ran around the yard with me for a few minutes in the early evening. When we went to see the vet, she was very optimistic about his outlook. She gave me a prescription for longer continuation of his seizure medication, I thought I would be giving it to him for years to come.
That night Frisco slept in his bed downstairs. That was a little odd as he usually slept upstairs on the couch in our loft. I heard him pacing overnight and was pleased to see that he'd drank his bowl of water. I let him out in the yard to do his business.
Thursday dawned and Frisco looked okay, not great, but better than he had the previous morning. He lay out in the grass for a while and kept my son company while he played. Just after I finished my workday, Frisco had another seizure. It seemed mild compared to his initial one on Sunday, but he stopped breathing and his heart soon followed. In that shocking moment, I said good-bye to my great (and sometimes only) companion of nearly nine years.
The early days after losing a pet are horrible because everywhere you look, there is the constant reminder that the pet is not there. Frisco, like a lot of dogs, would follow where ever I went in the house and settle himself there.
When I started working from home, he was my constant companion. His snores kept me company and I would take him for walks on my lunch break.
Frisco was there when my husband proposed. He greeted both my sons when we came home from the hospital. If one of them cried, Frisco was there looking at me expectantly, as if I wasn't moving fast enough to attend to the baby.
He's been on countless vacations with us, hiking and playing in the ocean.
When I went to get my toddler up in the morning, he would follow me into the room and Henry would stand up in the crib and say, "Mama and Frisco." I am so sad my children will not have memories of time spent with him.
Adjusting to life without a pet is going to be a long journey. There is the constant feeling that I have forgotten to do something.
Every time I get the water pitcher from the fridge, I find myself looking to see if he needs water in his bowl.
When our children are both asleep, the house seems empty with just my husband and I roaming it.
Rest in Peace, Frisco