It’s been a difficult couple of days around the Nichols’ household. On Tuesday, Hannah, our 9.5 year old McNab (and Holly’s younger sister), suddenly got very sick. Despite medications, tests, and emergency supportive care, she was too far gone and we had to say goodbye. The vets weren’t sure what caused her illness, but based on her lab results we wonder if she had sudden and severe pancreatitis complicated by her Addison’s disease that resulted in multiple system failure.
The pain of losing her, and so quickly…it’s hard to put into words. The kids have so many questions. Hobbes, our 2-year old bordernese, is confused.
I wanted to post some pics of Hannah and share a few things about her.
She really was the sweetest dog, with big brown eyes that would melt your heart. She had this funny bark she’d make when she was excited. Imagine Scooby-Doo saying, “Bow-roo?!” Made us laugh every time. She always had a puppy-like quality about her, and loved prancing around the back yard. She obsessed on the lizards who live in the cracks in our yard walls and the ground squirrels who tunneled in our bushes. She was neurotic in a totally hilarious way. She hated the ice maker, the salad spinner, counting, singing, dancing. All of our videos from birthday parties, singing happy birthday, feature Hannah barking along. And counting…when we taught our kids how to count, we’d get to three or four, and she’d bark like crazy. Every morning she greeted me at my bedroom door. She would sit in front of me, put her paws up on my legs and bow her head down so I could scratch her neck. My husband would joke that she looked like she was worshipping me. “Oh great mom…” Every night I’d fluff up her blanket and tuck her in. She’d snuggle her head in my hands and I’d tell her, “Good night, sweet girl. Mama loves you.” The same words I said when she passed away.
It’s going to be difficult getting used to not having her around. Even as I type this, we’re trying to figure out the new morning routine. Hobbes keeps going in and out the back door, looking for her, I think. This is hard. I know time will help, but I miss my girl.
Last night at bedtime, my daughter was crying and questioning and angry. I told her the story about the fortune cookie I got after Holly died. It was good to remember, and I do believe we’ll see them again.