I let the dogs out on Tuesday night, not knowing that the 2 doors on the porch were both wide open. I let them out from the basement hatchway and then was busy getting Ari to bed. Tony was out on an errand. It wasn't until after he got home (and then a few minutes after that) that we realized the dogs were gone. I didn't know the doors were open, hadn't even thought to check for that.
He started off walking, and then went to driving, searching for both of them, while I stood at the end of the driveway like a helpless idiot, staring up and down the street, hoping to catch sight of them. Tony would circle back now and then, and ask if I'd seen anything.
And then, on one of his trips back, he pulled into the driveway. "Did Ivan come back?" he asked.
"No," I replied, wondering if that meant he had Sasha with him.
"Sasha is dead," he said grimly, getting out of the car.
"What?" I replied, hoping I'd heard him wrong, but he repeated himself, and I wailed, "No..."
And then we both started crying. He was searching for some heavy-duty trash bags so he could go retrieve her body. A couple cops got a call about a dog being hit and pulled her off to the side of the road. As Tony was driving around, he saw those cops and stopped to ask if they'd seen 2 dogs... and then realized what happened.
I called Wayne, sobbing, asking if he could come over and stay with Ari so I could go with Tony to get Sasha. Tony tried, half-heartedly, to talk me out of it, but I insisted on going. And I didn't want him to have to do it alone.
When we got there, I knelt beside Sasha, and touched her fur for the last time. She looked somewhat normal--not badly mangled or anything--but there was blood coming out of her mouth. The cops were so nice--told me to take whatever time I needed. They were the ones that put her in the bag--and that was the part I couldn't watch.
Tony and I drove around for almost an hour after that, searching for Ivan, but there was no sign of him. Later, Tony even went out alone, again for another hour. Nothing. We left the lights on and doors open all night, in case he found his way home.
Ari didn't know anything yet. She was asleep when all this happened, and I took her to the babysitter's on Wednesday like normal. I stayed home from work.
Tony made calls all morning on Wednesday, to the police, the pound, the nearby school, friends, animal hospitals, etc.--no one had seen Ivan at all, but all those people were keeping an eye out for him.
We had some errands to do that day, but before that, Tony wanted to search for Ivan one more time, in daylight and on foot. And we found Ivan. He was right across the street from where Sasha got hit, huddled under a tree. We must have driven by that spot 2 or 3 times the night before, calling for him. But I guess he was too hurt and/or scared to come out. I was the first one to spot him, and he wagged his tail for me. But we had to coax him out, and he came out slowly, carefully. Obviously injured.
We took him to the vet, and he was just too badly injured... we chose to put him down. We had some alone time with him. We both said our goodbyes. He just lay there, looking so sad and weak. So not like himself.
Tony rented a machine from a nearby company--something like a miniature backhoe, I think--to dig the grave for Sasha and Ivan. Pastor, Greg and Wayne all came over to help and offer support. When he was finished digging the hole, we got the dogs ready. The animal hospital put Ivan in a white cardboard box, and before we left, Tony asked them if we could have an empty one for Sasha. So we had to transfer her into that box, which was... it was hard. Tony kept asking if I was sure I wanted to help him do it, and I insisted I was, though I honestly tried not to look too closely at her. We made a print of one of her paws (because the animal hospital did that with Ivan) and then wrapped her in one of her favorite blankets).
I helped Tony carry the boxes from the shed to where we were going to bury them, but then Greg helped him get them down into the hole. Tony and I stood there for a few moments with our arms around each other. He asked if I wanted to say anything and I said no--I'd said what I needed to say already. Tony whispered a quiet goodbye. Tony and I threw the first shovelfuls of dirt in, and then the guys helped us with the rest.
Ari's babysitter agreed to keep her later than normal, since we didn't want Ari to have to watch the burial process. We were originally planning to tell her as soon as she got home, but then we realized she would be getting home close to bedtime, and it didn't seem fair to tell her something like that and then send her off to bed, so we decided to wait until this morning.
After we buried the dogs, we had some free time before the babysitter was going to bring Ari home, so we went to a nearby craft store and bought some fake flowers--basically, a set from each of the 3 of us--to put on the dogs' grave.
When Ari woke up Thursday morning, she crawled into bed with us like usual. I got her breakfast and then dozed off a little longer while she watched TV. Eventually, though, she woke us both up. She lost interest in her TV show and began burrowing under the covers, goofing off and playing. And then suddenly she was saying, "I'm a dog, woof woof!" and Tony and I looked at each other across the top of her head and knew that this was the time.
And so... we told her. We told her the truth, as carefully and simply as we could. We didn't want to tell her they "took a trip" or "went to sleep and will never wake up" or anything that might confuse or scare her more than necessary. As we told her, I watched her face fall and her voice get sad, and I... I don't think I thought she would understand it so well. I was glad to have Tony to "tag team" with--to take over talking when I was too emotional, and for me to be able to do the same for him. We talked for a little while, answering her questions, and then talked to her about how we buried them in the yard and if she wanted to, we would take her to see it. She agreed, so we all got up to get dressed. She went to go potty while I found clothes for her, and no sooner had she gotten in the bathroom than I heard her crying. I ran in to her and just held her. "I'm crying because I miss Sasha and Ivan," she said, and I cried with her and told her I missed them too, and that it was OK to cry.
When we got to their grave, we talked to Ari a little more, and told her which dog was in which spot. Ari chose to place her flowers in the middle, between the 2 dogs, and I placed mine near Sasha and Tony placed his near Ivan. Ari played around in the soft dirt a little, drawing pictures for the dogs with her fingers and writing random letters. Then she pretended to plant flowers in the dirt, using rocks as seeds. We told her in the springtime, we can plant some real flowers, and she liked that idea. Tony asked her if she wanted to say goodbye to them, or say anything about them, and she said no. But then, a few minutes later, on her own, we heard her softly say, "Good-bye, Sasha and Ivan."
As we walked back inside, she said to me, "Thank you for showing me where you buried Sasha and Ivan" in such a small, solemn voice. I didn't know what else to say other than "You're welcome." And then I told her she can go "visit" them anytime she wants to. After we got inside, she seemed to be better. I got myself ready and came in to work late.
There's so much more in my head and in my heart... I feel like I'm just telling the facts here, and not much else. I told Tony yesterday that I feel like the sadness comes in waves... like I'll be fine one minute, and then the next, I'm bawling, and sometimes the oddest little things trigger it. There are certain things I am trying not to dwell on, trying not to beat myself up for. But honestly, the hardest part so far has been watching Tony and Ari suffer. Tony... I have known him for 16 years now, and I have never, NEVER seen him cry the way he did on Wednesday. And Ari, my sweet Ari... I knew she would understand on some level, but I think I underestimated how well she would understand, how immediate and pure her sorrow would be. I know, though, that we will all be OK.
And before I go, I want to thank you all for your support. I appreciate your kind words and your love so much, more than you know.
Sasha and Ivan
RIP Sasha (3/29/00 to 9/14/10)
RIP Ivan (10/16/04 to 9/15/10)
