Five times I have held a dog or cat in my arms as they passed away. Even knowing it was best for them, it was heart wrenching for me. The first was a Basset hound named Basil. Basil was 14 years old and had exceeded his breed's life expectancy. He was totally devoted to his family. And we loved him so much. He was funny, quirky, saggy and baggy and would follow us off a cliff if that's where we were going.

I held him and sobbed as he looked at me with those big brown eyes. He was telling me that it was okay. He had had a good life and it was time for him to go but he'd be there waiting for us at the Rainbow Bridge.

The second time was far worse. My devoted little terrier mix named Bo suddenly stopped eating. He was only seven years old. The vet felt a mass in Bo's abdomen and said he'd have to operate. I was at work when they called and said his liver was 98% gone and they didn't think he'd make it. I told my supervisor and she drove me to the vet's to say good bye. I lay on the floor next to him and held him. He was struggling to come out of the anesthesia. I've worked in hospitals. I know what impending death sounds like.

As I held him, I told him what a good dog he was and how much we loved him. I told him that it was okay for him to let go. I held him and cried and told him that Basil would be waiting for him and that we would be re-united. I held him close to my heart as his slowed and finally stopped. I couldn't let go of him. I lay there for a very long time after he was gone.

On the way back to work, I told my supervisor that if anyone said it was just a dog I couldn't be held accountable for my actions. No one did. I slept with Bo's favorite toy for weeks and cried myself to sleep. I didn't want to go home. There wouldn't be anyone to greet me. No little white dog with his tail wagging happily and love shining from his eyes.

A friend who had lost dogs at a young age was very helpful. She was my pet bereavement counselor. She told me that grieving the loss of a pet was as devastating as losing a close friend or family member. It was okay to grieve to feel an emptiness in my life and in my heart. My kids who were all away at college called me every day to make sure I was okay and to talk about Bo. There is still a small Bo-shaped hole in my heart. There always will be.

I now have a ten year-old Westie and a six year-old golden retriever. I know that the day will come when I hold Bugsy in my arms as he leaves me. I will be heartbroken but I will grieve and always remember the little white dog that was so devoted to me and loved me so much. I hope I am worthy of his love.

And then I will do it again with Emma. I'll tell her how much I loved her and how sad I would be when she was no longer looking at me with that goofy grin. She will be the second golden retriever I've held in my arms as they left this life.

Someone said that a dog was a heartbreak waiting to happen. True but it's worth it to have all the years of love and devotion. My dogs have licked away my tears; put on stand-up comedy routines to cheer me up; saved my life; pulled me up when I've fallen. But most importantly, they have loved me. Loved me the way God wants us to love each other unconditionally and with no strings attached.

Learn more about this author, Vicki Brown.
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