Saying Goodbye.

It’s been two months since my loss and I never actually planned on writing a blog post about it. I briefly mentioned it back in my Confronting My Anxiety post but this time I’d like to fully talk about it in the hope it helps my recovery to cry and write and express my thoughts and feelings properly.


“Her love knew no bounds.
She would protect.
Always watching out for my daughter Amelia.
Never once realising that she was my other daughter.”

On February 11th, I made the decision to have my Husky Tishka of 10 years old put to sleep. Tishka was diagnosed with a cancerous tumor in her mouth in summer 2018, we proceeded with the surgery and were told that there was a possibility it might come back but told they couldn’t operate again without removing most of the side of her face.

Several months passed and she seemed fine, she’d healed and seemed much happier in herself and the panic had left me that I’d have to lose her.

Later in the year, I noticed the lump on her face had started to return very aggressively to a point where all she did was sleep. She’d sleep for hours, days and nothing seemed to ease her pain. I never wanted to be selfish when it came to her life, admittedly I never wanted to have to say goodbye to her ever. I cried several times beforehand because I knew it would change the person who I am.

The night of the 10th of February, I told my boyfriend that I have to say goodbye now, he asked if I was ready. I said no, I’ll never be ready. I’d have been cruel to wait until I was ready. Cancer had changed her. She was so tired and so miserable and I couldn’t stand to see her miserable. I wanted nothing but hapiness for her even if her hapiness meant my sadness. The end of her suffering was the start of mine.

The vets told us again that to operate would require her losing a portion of her face and that there was again, the possibility of it coming back. They also offered a chemo alternative that could also not be guaranteed to work. The final option was the one I knew would be the outcome, painless death and a stop to her suffering.

The kindest thing I could do for her.


The aftermath.

So here I am. A lone wolf without my wolf pack.

There’s a particular moment of this story that I still struggle to deal with. I stayed with my 4-year-old daughter when Tishka left for the vets, she needed me as her mother to support her. I’d spent the morning prior to the vets visit trying to explain to her that Tishka will be leaving soon and that she wouldn’t be returning, but I told her that she will be happy and out of pain. The information didn’t sink in until Tishka left our front door. The ear-piercing screams of my daughter still ring in my ears as I held her back from chasing her down our driveway. It still haunts me badly and I don’t know when I will ever be able to move forward from that.

I’ve had Tishka with me since I was 11 years old, so over half of my life, she’s been there. How on earth am I supposed to just get by without her when it’s all I’ve ever known? I’m still struggling to move forward and I’m hoping by sharing the full details of my loss it can help me on my road to recovery.


Tishka taught me a lot of things about life, and that is what I’d like to talk about today.

  • She taught me it was possible to love an animal like they were human.
  • She taught me that family was more than blood.
  • She showed me true loyalty, that no money could by.
  • She taught me to appreciate all those small moments, those long late night walks, running for miles beside my best friend.
  • She made me a better person, a happier person.

“I feel paralysed by loss, crippled with pain and fully and truly lost.”

10380322_1388933718070621_8989177645235704198_n.jpgΒ  You were loved deeply. You are missed dearly. Thought of often, and always and forever my first born.

Maybe in another life. I’ve been through some shit in my life, seriously.
I always told myself ‘this won’t break me’. But losing you. It has broken me and I’m not ashamed to admit it. It’s a privilege to have my heart broken by you. It’s been a good life. It really has.
Thank you for the memories, thank you for always loving me unconditionally.

‘If love could have saved you, you would have lived forever.’

Goodnight Wolf Dog, Ratbag, My best friend, My beautiful daughter.


Posted by

Hello, I'm a young passionate writer and professional photographer from the North West of England. I am new to Wordpress this is my first ever blog. I look forward to speaking and making friends with like minded people.

19 thoughts on “Saying Goodbye.

  1. This was a heart-wrenching read but so well-written. It resonated with me as we had a very similar situation with my labrador, Chloe, when I was young. I possibly didn’t fully understand back then but having lost two cats in more recent years, I certainly understand it more these days – doesn’t make it any easier though. I’m so sorry for your loss and I hope you’re doing okay 🧑

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s