August 28th is Rainbow Bridge Remembrance Day– a day to reflect fondly on pets who are no longer with us. Without doubt, the hardest part about having a dog or cat is just how short their lifespans are. How can they create such an enormous impact in such a short period of time?
If you have lost a pet, you know how difficult it is. Almost 1 year ago to the day, I lost my heart dog, Mia. To date, it has been one of the hardest and most complex life experiences I have ever had to cope with. Yes, it was devastating, but I handled it much better than I anticipated.
Despite how painful and sad Mia’s passing was, it did not diminish the pure joy and love she brought to my life. Even in the darkest moments, reflecting back on our time together brought me comfort. I truly feel like a better, stronger person because of our relationship, and moving through the grief of losing her was… painful, yet reassuring at the same time.
How to Celebrate Rainbow Bridge Remembrance Day
I thought a lot about what to write for this post. One year later, and I still don’t know what to do with her ashes, collar, dog tag, or terracotta pawprint the crematorium gave me. Writing a post about “how to memorialize your dog” didn’t seem quite right.
Ultimately, I decided the best way to “celebrate” Rainbow Bridge Remembrance Day was to share Mia’s story. I want to take this day to remember her, honor her, and share her with you all. She is, after all, the real reason this blog exists. Moreover, I invite you, my readers, to share your stories of pets who have crossed the rainbow bridge in the comments section below.
This post is long and personal. Most of my posts are written for you, dear reader, but this one– this one is for me.
If you’ve lost a pet, then you probably understand. If you have not lost a pet, then I hope this post is an honest look at the fact that it’s never easy losing them in the end, but it is always worth it.
Mia’s Story
Mia was in my life for over 7 years, but I feel like we were together so much longer. I adopted her when I was 24 years old, moving into my very first apartment on my own. She supported me through that tumultuous, fun, heartbreaking period in your life where you really learn how to be an adult. Mia was there for new apartments, new jobs, new boyfriends, new friends, graduate school, my wedding, and even had a few months in my first house. I was never lonely thanks to Mia, and she always gave me strength when I needed it.
She died very unexpectedly on August 30, 2019, when an unknown tumor on her liver ruptured. I was grateful that she maintained a wonderful quality of life up until the very end, and that I never had to watch her get sick and decline. She was always, always the happy, peppy, enthusiastic girl I knew and loved.
We did everything together: roadtripped, hiked, camped, hung out at bars and restaurants, took long walks through the park, tubed the river, ran errands together, and lounged on the couch while watching TV. But, our relationship did not begin that way, and in fact it got off to a pretty rocky start.
Love at First Sight
If you read my About Me section, you will learn that I adopted Mia a little haphazardly. At the time, I lived with my sister and her family after a pretty tumultuous two years post-college. My cat had recently escaped their house, and after months of searching for him, I was beginning to accept that he was not coming back.
Now, I had already thought about getting a dog, because I was just about to move into my first apartment all by myself. The idea of living totally alone scared the shit out of me, and I thought a dog would be the perfect security blanket. But, that was the only thought I had put into the matter.
While perusing Craigslist for lost/found pets in case someone had found my cat, I stumbled upon Mia’s listing. I was obsessed. I remember looking at her lab-like face and imagining what it would be like to tousle those ears.
The post described Mia as shy around people, friendly with dogs and cats, and comfortable living in an apartment. She was crate trained, potty trained, walked well on leash, and already knew how to sit. In a nutshell, she sounded like a perfect dog! So, on a whim, I texted the number on the post to ask about her.
Mia’s Backstory
That number belonged to Mia’s foster mom. She informed me that Mia was now living with Tracy, who ran the rescue that saved Mia’s life. I mean that literally, by the way. Without Tracy or Mia’s foster mom, Mia would have been euthanized at the city shelter long before I saw her.
Mia’s backstory is a very common story here in San Antonio. Animal Care Services found her running along a highway (1604 for you locals) in the middle of nowhere. She was about 8-10 months old.
Unfortunately for Mia, she landed at the Brooks Facility. Today, Brooks is a quarantine zone for dogs. Once upon a time, however, it was the overflow facility for the city shelter. At that time, San Antonio had a truly awful pet overpopulation problem. Animal Care Services euthanized hundreds of dogs each week, the majority of which were healthy and adoptable. The live release rate (dogs that were adopted, rescued, or claimed by their owners) was dismal, something like 8%. That meant the other 92% ended up euthanized.
Luckily, this is no longer the case, and those numbers have practically reversed. But, at the time, things were rough for homeless dogs. The city shelter would take in a stray and place them under a 3 day “stray hold.” When that expired, the dog was at risk of euthanasia to make space for the next stray. The only escape was adoption or rescue.
Rescued
The Brooks facility was especially dreaded because it was remote and extremely difficult to find. That meant the dogs there were not seen by very many potential adopters, if any at all. Ending up at Brooks was practically a death sentence for a dog, especially if it was a big dog and especially if it was a black dog. Mia had these three Bs against her: big, black, and at Brooks.
At this time, Tracy’s rescue was just beginning. She would go to Brooks and film the dogs kept there, then upload those videos to YouTube for people around the country to see them. If someone wanted to foster or adopt the dog, Tracy would pull them for rescue and arrange transport. This is exactly what happened with Mia.
Tracy filmed her adorable little wigglebutt and uploaded her to YouTube. When Mia’s stray hold expired, the shelter moved her to the main campus for euthanasia. Lucky for her, a foster saw that YouTube video and stepped up to save Mia’s life minutes before she was scheduled to be put down. Tracy tagged her for rescue, and Mia went into foster care.
Meeting Mia for the First Time
Mia’s foster put me in touch with Tracy, who explained Mia’s backstory to me. We scheduled a meet-and-greet, and I arrived at Tracy’s property in La Vernia, TX where a pack of like 6 dogs greeted me. All of them were so excited for a visitor, and Mia was among them– though she definitely hung back and did not seek affection.
Tracy explained that Mia was very sweet, but very shy around new people (especially men). When her foster mom met with potential adopters, Mia would try to run away and hide. At one point, she even crawled underneath a car to try and escape.
True to this story, Mia did not want to meet me. Tracy had to capture her and bring her over to me. I sat down facing slightly away from her, and just sat there petting her. She accepted my pets nervously at first, but quickly relaxed. Despite her nervousness, I absolutely loved her.
I asked Tracy if I could pre-adopt her, but not actually bring her home until I moved into my new apartment in about a month. Miraculously, Tracy agreed to that, assuming my application was accepted.
After Mia passed away, Tracy confided that she had almost denied my application. I was young, I had never owned a dog on my own before, and she wasn’t entirely sure I could handle that responsibility. Luckily, Tracy has a very solid intuition. She trusted her instincts and allowed me to adopt Mia, which she says was one of the best decisions she ever made.
Our First Adventure
A few weeks after Tracy approved my adoption, one of my good friends who also owned a dog asked if I wanted to go to the lake. I asked Tracy if I could take Mia for the day, and she said absolutely! Excited for our first adventure together, I picked Mia up (literally, I picked her up and put her in my car) and headed to a local park. I rolled out a blanket and we just sat together, watching the world go by. Mia quickly adjusted to me, and I snapped this photo of us just chilling:
Later, we met up with my friend at the lake, and Mia came alive in the company of another dog. I vividly remember how obsessed she was with chasing the waves along the shore, and how uncertain she was about swimming until my friend “accidentally” pushed her in. After that, Mia loved to swim.
It was the perfect day together and really set the tone for our whole relationship. There were so many lake days (and other adventures) in our future, but we had one major hurdle to tackle first.
Battling Fear Aggression
Honestly, there are so many things I did wrong with Mia. She taught me so, SO much about how to responsibly care for a dog, and I will always be incredibly grateful for her patience, forgiveness, and adaptability. But in the beginning, I really messed up.
Mia was anxious and nervous to begin with, and I gave her minimal structure upon which to build confidence. She was crate trained, and although she spent the day (and first few nights) in her crate, she spent all the other time with me. She slept in my bed, snuggled on the couch with me, and I brought her almost everywhere I could.
I am also an anxious person by nature, and I fussed over her a lot. It’s really no surprise that her anxiety rapidly turned into a much more vocal fear. Basically, Mia felt like she had to protect both of us. She barked at people when we took walks, and eventually that escalated into snarling, lunging, and just going ballistic in general. I couldn’t even have people over at my apartment without crating her, because she would bite at their calves and ankles every time they turned and walked away.
I remember how terrified I felt to take Mia for walks. What if someone tried to pet her? What if a child ran up to us unexpectedly? I wore earbuds in my ears while walking to avoid conversations with people, but I never actually played music so I could cautiously listen to our surroundings and make sure no one approached us. Yeah, it was that bad.
The Breaking Point
Unsurprisingly, we eventually hit a breaking point. We were at the lake with a group of friends when two of them (both men) walked by Mia, who was leashed to the picnic table. In hindsight, I realize that probably made her feel trapped. As the two guys passed by, she freaked out, lunged, and bit one of them on the calf. It wasn’t nasty, but it was bad enough to break the skin.
Luckily for me, that person did not report the dog bite. Nevertheless, words cannot describe how absolutely devastated and mortified I was. I had to admit that I was in over my head, and I had no idea if my dog would ever be able to overcome this. Would I ever be able to take her out in public? I lived in an apartment, so how could I exercise her if we couldn’t even go for a walk?
Asking for Help
I reached out to Tracy and Mia’s old foster mom. Both were baffled by Mia’s behavior. Although Mia was a nervous dog, she had not displayed signs of aggression while in rescue. Tracy, especially, was mortified. She apologized and said that if Mia was biting people, she probably needed to be put down. That might sound harsh, but it’s honest. It’s irresponsible to adopt out dogs who bite, especially when there are plenty of friendly dogs facing euthanasia in the shelter.
Yet, deep down I knew that wasn’t the right answer for Mia. Yeah, she was a fear aggressive dog, but she was not, at her core, unstable. I’m not really sure how I knew that, but I fully believed that Mia was a sweet dog who needed the right home. I just didn’t know that home was me.
At this point, I turned to my dad who had experience training dogs. I just needed an honest opinion about what course of action I needed to take with Mia.
I remember being on the verge of tears as I asked, “Will obedience training help Mia? Or is she broken beyond repair?”
He laughed at me.
“Take her through an obedience class,” he said. “Then come talk to me.”
Learning How to Speak Dog
At that point, I decided I was going to help Mia. This effort was two-fold: I started searching for an obedience class and researching everything I could on fear aggression in dogs. In a nutshell, it was time to learn how to speak dog.
I knew I wanted a group obedience class, not a board and train, and I wanted a place that could handle behavior problems in addition to teaching basic obedience. I did not believe a Petsmart or Petco training class was going to cut it. As a poor young professional making a meager $32k per year, I also needed something I could afford.
Eventually, I found a class that fit my criteria, and I signed us up immediately. It was a 6 week basic obedience class. The first class was orientation. No dogs were allowed at orientation, which was a relief since I was terrified to take Mia out in public at this point.
My instructor was an elderly woman named Evelyn. She had dyed orange-red hair that matched her toy poodles. I remember looking at those poodles wondering if this lady had what it took to handle an aggressive 45 lbs dog. Let me tell you, do NOT judge a dog trainer by the size of dog they own.
At the end of orientation, I approached Evelyn shyly to explain Mia’s fear aggression. Would Mia even be allowed in class?
“Of course!” Evelyn said. “What do you think this class is for?”
First Day of Class
Mia and I arrived for our first class not knowing what to expect. I felt so nervous, yet also relieved. Finally, we were getting help. Evelyn started class by asking us to walk our dogs around the classroom. I remember she walked over to assess just how fearful Mia was. As she approached, Mia growled, snarled, and lunged at her. Naturally, I was embarrassed. Evelyn, however, seemed unfazed.
“Alrighty then!” was all she said as she straightened and walked away.
The first class was about getting our dog’s attention and loading a reward marker word. I chose the word viva, because it means “life” in Spanish. It felt fitting for a dog that escaped death at the shelter and was also starting on a brand new journey towards a better life.
Evelyn instructed that we should practice daily throughout the week for best results, but only in short bursts. I took this to heart, and Mia and I practiced twice per day: once in the morning before work, and once in the evening after our walk.
Training At Home
As I mentioned earlier, in addition to obedience class, I also researched how to work with a fear aggressive dog. I learned about structure, building confidence, and desensitization training, all of which I immediately implemented.
We began taking more structured walks, during which I incorporated lots of obedience practice (sits, downs, heel, etc.). She thrived focusing on me instead of her environment. I asked friends to come sit at my kitchen table while completely ignoring Mia, other than to drop treats onto the floor without engaging her. Eventually, Mia learned that people in the home were not scary. Funny enough, this set her up for a lifetime of treat-seeking from anyone who visited my apartment. I didn’t mind. It was definitely better than the snarling and nipping!
Most importantly, I began asking Mia to face her fears– slowly! This not only built up her confidence in herself, but also built up her trust in me. One example: she was terrified of those metal drainage covers that are used in sidewalks to cover gutters. Previously, she would freak out when we tried to walk over them, and so we avoided them. Now, however, I helped her confront this irrational fear. We stopped at one and practiced walking over it, using treats and praise for encouragement and reward. It took ONE session for her to get over this fear, but the impact it had on her confidence and her trust in me was monumental.
A New Beginning
Mia thrived under this new structure. Obedience class taught us how to communicate, and it taught me how to be leader. Our relationship blossomed. Mia was desperate to please, so training her was unbelievably easy. We blew through basic obedience with flying colors, and the more confident we became as a team, the more challenges we took on. We even joined a couple of dog walking groups for controlled socialization!
After Basic Obedience, we enrolled in Next Step Obedience (also with Evelyn). By the end of that class– after a ton of practice, training, and socialization– Mia earned her Canine Good Citizenship where she allowed a stranger to pet her, brush her, and handle her paws without incident.
In just a few short months, Mia’s fear aggression all but disappeared. Occasionally, she would bark at a stranger, and she still did not care for people she didn’t know, but the fear and need to defend herself and me were no longer there.
Our Relationship
If you’ve ever had a heart dog, you know they are different. Your relationship with them is different. I love June and Margot, but Mia and I shared a soul. We did so much together: tubing, camping, sailing, hiking, canoeing, kayaking, road tripping, stand up paddling, and more! I researched dog food. I baked my own dog treats. Essentially, I became a dog mom.
The first year that I had Mia, I did not have cable or the internet. So, the majority of my free time was spent training her. I taught her several tricks, my favorite being “beer me!” where she would run to the fridge, fetch me a beer, then run back and close the fridge. We actually won 3rd place at a Texas Public Radio pet talent contest for “play dead.”
On more than one occasion, people told me, “Wow, I wish my dog was like yours!” which I always thought was funny. People didn’t see how much work I poured into that dog. But I get it. Mia was not just well behaved. She was incredibly tuned in to me. Sometimes she did what I wanted without me saying or doing anything, as if she could read my mind. I talked to her, and I swear she understood. Even then, I knew our relationship was special. I knew Mia was not just a dog. She was a heart dog.
Changing My Life for the Better
Mia changed my life for the better. Because of her, I decided to foster dogs which had a huge impact on my life. I learned a lot about animal rescue, and I learned even more about how to work with dogs of all personality types. I’m not a dog trainer by any means, but I have trained a lot dogs and provided support to a lot of dog adopters.
Fostering dogs also gives insight into a variety of medical issues, from heartworms to skin infections. I learned how to remove ticks, how to remove sutures after a spay surgery, and how to handle the most common medical issues in animal rescue like supporting healthy weight gain, regulating digestion, healing dermatitis, and more. Whole food supplements like canned pumpkin and raw coconut oil became part of my doggy medicine cabinet.
I fostered big dogs and little dogs, blind dogs, disabled dogs, and even one dog who was accused of killing another dog (she never showed signs of dog aggression in foster care). All of that experience is a huge part of why this blog exists today, and it all boils down to the impact Mia had on my life.
I made my first solid group of friends outside of college because of Mia. She was the reason I met my husband (we started hanging out at the dog park), and she was there throughout our relationship, our wedding, and our first house. Mia supported me through grad school, through my jobs. She cuddled with me when I felt sick and inspired me to spend more time outdoors.
Mia was so deeply a part of me that sometimes I don’t even feel like she’s gone, because even though I’ve lived without her for almost a year, I still can’t imagine life without her in it.
Crossing the Rainbow Bridge
The day before we were supposed to fly out to the Dominican Republic, I came home from work early to find that Mia had pooped in her crate. That was unusual, but Mia also got anxious when she knew we were going out of town. I cleaned it up and got her outside to play in the hose. She played a little bit, but moved slowly. Once we were done, I toweled her off, and when I touched her belly she yelped.
I paused, gently pressed on her abdomen, and she cried again. Immediately, I knew something was very wrong and called my husband to come home and take us to the vet.
I thought of a million things it could be– bloat, an obstruction, gas. Never, not even once, did I think it was cancer. Only three months earlier, Mia had been at the vet for her annual exam and passed all her tests with flying colors. Yet, her X-ray that Friday afternoon showed a large mass on Mia’s liver and a cloudy abdomen, which indicated internal bleeding.
The vet informed me the mass was a tumor, and the internal bleeding meant it had likely ruptured. He also informed me that the tumor was likely cancerous. They would need to operate to confirm, but if it was cancerous their recommendation was to not wake the dog up from surgery, as the recovery was too difficult and the likelihood of survival too low.
Saying Goodbye
Prior to this moment, I had thought a lot about how I would handle the end of Mia’s life. I had made a promise to her and to myself that I would not force her to stay with me if her quality of life was not good. Mia needed play, adventure, and lots of attention from me to be happy. I would not let her live in this world if she was too sick to do those things.
Despite the fact that it was Friday evening and the vet was closing, the owner of the clinic deemed Mia an emergency situation and said they should operate immediately. It was unlikely Mia would survive the night with the internal bleeding, and it was so obvious to me how much pain and discomfort she was in. I agreed to the hasty surgery, knowing full well what the outcome was likely to be.
The hardest part was saying goodbye. Mia was an anxious dog, and she was extremely sensitive to my emotions. If I was stressed, she was stressed. If I was nervous, she was nervous. From the moment we started tackling her fear aggression, I learned to compartmentalize my emotions in order to be the calm, collected leader she needed.
I could not let our last moments together be filled with fear and anxiety. So I did not cry. I did not hug her and have a total and complete meltdown like I wanted. Instead, I pet her, I scratched her ears, I spoke in a positive voice, and I gave her one final high five. Such a good girl! The best girl. I told her that over and over again.
My biggest regret is not asking to be with her when they sedated her so that I was the very last person she saw, but I was so overwhelmed and trying so hard to keep it together that I honestly did not even think about it. The most important thing to me in that moment was to stay calm so that Mia could stay calm.
Of course, when they operated, they found a tumor the size of a baseball growing into her liver. They said it looked cancerous, but they would have to biopsy to be sure. They also said that because it was growing into her liver, the surgery had a low success rate. At best, Mia would survive the surgery and the tumor would grow back– probably within a few months– and if it was cancerous, her quality of life would only decline. However, because it was growing into her liver, it was unlikely she would be able to survive the surgery at all.
The last thing Mia and I did together was play in the hose, one of her absolute favorite things in the world. So I made the decision to let her pass in peace. We did not wake her up from surgery.
The Aftermath
The moment we left the vet clinic, I lost it. All the emotions I had stuffed down while in the vet clinic exploded.
You might recall that all of this went down the day before my husband and I were supposed to fly to the Dominican Republic. Our flight was scheduled at 5:30am, so we needed to be at the airport by 3:30am.
I’m not sure if it seems weird that 12 hours after my heart dog died we were getting on a plane to the Caribbean, but I can’t even begin to explain what a blessing that escape was. I hate crying in front of people, and I hate people trying to comfort me. Not having to hear “I’m so sorry about Mia” over and over again was such a blessing. It allowed me to grieve in my own time, reflect fondly on our time together, and think about the future.
In the Dominican Republic, I began to heal. At night, I asked my husband to tell me stories so that I wouldn’t think about Mia and cry. It was the only way I could fall asleep. During the day, we relaxed in the pool or at the beach and simply enjoyed quiet time together. The place we stayed had two dogs: a very old fluffy pup named Moca, and a golden retriever puppy named Simba. I thought being around them would be hard, but it wasn’t. They made me feel connected to Mia, and that helped at lot.
I was thankful that Mia passed quickly, and that the last thing we did together was play in the hose. I was thankful that all of that hadn’t gone down after we had left the country. And, most important, I was incredibly thankful for the time we had together and everything she had taught me.
Rainbow Bridge Remembrance Day
I still think about Mia every single day. I can’t imagine there will ever be a time when I don’t think about her. And, I’ll be honest and say it still hurts. But, thinking about her is not all sad. I miss her, and I’m sad she isn’t here; but, thinking about her still brings me so much joy.
They say you only get one heart dog in your lifetime. I’m not sure if that is true, but I hope it isn’t. I would be so sad if I never found another dog I shared that special connection with. But, if it is true, that’s okay, too. I am so honored to have experienced it even once.
Who are you thinking about on Rainbow Bridge Remembrance Day? I would love to read your stories.
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