A Pandemic Story of Love and Loss
No one prepares another for death — the loss of a pet, and despite the time that passes by, it doesn’t get any easier. I am not going to practice toxic positivity because we are not here for that, right? We are here to be realistic and to read something that’s actually worthwhile. Well, whether or not this article captures your attention is none of my business. I just want to put it out there that I truly feel for all of you, for those of you who have experienced loss in any form during this time of COVID-19. This time that we are living in continues to be full of unexpected outcomes and unexpected emotions. At the same time, so many of us are living with these emotions that were previously packed up in suitcases in our subconscious, which have now come out to play. These emotions weren't able to previously hangout with us because we were too busy paying attention to other things…well at least most of us. I know for myself, I am one of those people that needs to reflect on things alone. I need to process and reflect on the heavy stuff on my own time — in my own space. Whether I am driving or laying in bed, however pre-COVID, I spent most of my reflecting time in my car. Oh, those long drives to multiple areas in the Northern Virginia area…sometimes I actually miss that and other times, not so much. Anyhow, as I was talking about loss, there have been so many types of loss during this time, actually every kind of loss you can think of, whether emotional or physical to everything in between.
In May 2020, when COVID-19 was obviously doing its thing in our world and change life as we once knew, my dog was getting older, just as every creature does on earth, whether they want to or not. During this time, I was still in my Master’s program at Marymount University and I was strictly following the pandemic precautions. Having my dog by my side was the best company I was ever able to ask for during the unforeseen times that took us all by surprise starting in March 2020 or for some, even earlier. She was known as Sasha to my friends and within our family, she was known as ‘Sasha bear’. One day I took her for a walk and by May, as those of you who live on the East coast of the United States know, it was already quite humid outside. The hot sun beaming on the earth, it truly was unbearable. So, I took her for a walk and when we came back inside, she collapsed. I couldn’t believe my eyes, fyi: I rarely use the word ‘could.’
I thought, no…this is not happening, my dog is not having a heart attack in front of my eyes (alone). She got up, however, she was panting, and something was obviously wrong. Some details I will leave out, although what I’ve just written is traumatic enough as I oftentimes am still reliving the moments in my mind. Not continuing my “normal” schedule during these times hasn’t quite assisted me in not thinking about the past — especially the more tragic moments. Sasha had just turned 14 years old the previous month (April 2020). It’s not like she was a puppy, although in my eyes she was always my big puppy.
I did what I thought was best, meaning I reached out to the vet and ended up taking her to the animal hospital. Driving her there in my small vehicle, it became quite obvious that something was seriously wrong and I was beyond scared. I remember that I kept talking to her and petting her, making sure she knew that I was there for her. I can’t imagine how she was feeling. I was also deprived of food and water so I decided to go get something to eat because they weren’t sure how long it was going to take. By it, I mean checking what was wrong with her and giving her what she needed. That day was the last time I had fast-food, aka Chick-fil-A. I wasn’t even able to eat the burger that I bought, due to high levels of anxiety and stress, all I was able to munch on was the french fries and devour the shake I got, in addition to hydrating myself with water.
I have to truly thank the time in which I worked at a detox center because it aided in my crisis intervention skills. Putting our bodies under a lot of stress is not such a joyful exciting time for our bodies. This time of deciding what next move to make and take was truly a fight, flight or freeze moment for my mind and body. For example, there was another family member who I reached out to, however they did not support me in certain aspects of the situation at hand, so I took it upon myself to take initiative. I knew that I had to do what was best for my dog — in that moment, nothing else mattered.
So, after waiting hours and hours, it was decided upon that what was best for her to not suffer any longer was to be put down. The supposed ‘right’ decision is never the easiest one to make and in this case, we had to put her well-being first. If only dogs could speak, right? There were two friends who although not near in distance to me, were beyond helpful for me through these utmost challenging moments. I was hesitant to be there for the procedure, however one of my closest friends told me to do it — that I had it in me, that I was strong enough to handle the pain following being witness to her moving on.
I honestly didn’t think I had the strength within me to be there and to actually be able to say goodbye. I already had shed so many tears and my heart felt like it was going to come out of my body. A family member accompanied me to the hospital and we were able to go in, mask on, gloves on and go visit with her. I hadn’t cried yet as I’ve been writing this article and I now suddenly feel the natural touch of the water trying to come out and just keep pouring. The doctor told me she hadn’t been breathing on her own and so there were tubes and so forth attached to her from every which way possible. She was so sedated, however she started to awaken and I just knew that she felt my presence.
I kept petting her, allowing her to feel my touch and I was given time alone to connect with her. I spoke to her and although I do not recall the words I said in those very moments, I knew she was listening. There’s a bond between one’s pet and oneself that is truly inexplicable. Unconditional love never felt so matched before in my life and so I can now say that I will never regret being there for her when she most needed me. I played a few of her favorite songs for her from Citizen Cope and eventually had to let her be. The leaving part was probably the most difficult and unbearable thing I’ve ever had to do. When I say I’ve had many horrible, traumatizing days in my life, there was truly nothing comparable to this day and night.
Not like I’d want to compare any other moments to this day because that wouldn’t be right and I just can’t do that. I think more recently I’ve been reminiscing on how much she was part of my life through so much darkness and doubt. She never added to the at times uncontrollable darkness and doubt. Sasha brought an abiding light to the moments in which we shared space. Many moments growing up I felt alone and she became my protector, my buddy, my guardian and most of all — my chosen family. She learned words in English, Spanish and Persian. Quite the intelligent doggy she was and she had her moments, oh so many of them…in which she’d scare the shit out of people because of her demeanor.
Words cannot and will not ever express the sadness in my heart. Sasha “Bear” Sherbaf’s physical body left us, yet her spirit will live on forever in our hearts— she had a heart of gold and was always happy to be in my presence. She truly lived in the moment 24/7 and demonstrated compassion from coast to coast. True friends leave paw prints on our hearts and she’s left so much more than that in my heart, beyond imaginable…every time I returned from overseas or showed up at the family business, she greeted me as if it was the first time she met me full of contagious love and joy.
There was truly never a moment in which I didn’t feel her love for me — and so I am doing what I can to remember all the shared moments with her and how lucky I am that she was able to live her entire life with my family and for that, I will be forever grateful. We were her chosen ‘hoomans’ and she was our chosen family — she will never be forgotten. Sending her love and light, knowing that we will meet again, and that she’s no longer in pain.
