through the fish-eyed lens of tear stained eyes

My dog Ferris, who was rescued from a bus stop in Monrovia by my wife Anne almost exactly 8 years ago, had a heart attack and died this morning. It happened very quickly, and I was with her, which is supposed to make me feel better, but at this moment all I can feel is nearly-unbearable sorrow, and the empty space in my life left behind by my awesome dog. 

Ferris Wheaton

Bye bye, Ferris. I love you and miss you. You were the best dog ever.

A small request: if you choose to comment, please don't post that Rainbow Bridge thing. I know you mean well, but it has always made me uncomfortable.

436 thoughts on “through the fish-eyed lens of tear stained eyes”

  1. Aw Wil, that’s awful. It’s not fair how much it hurts when your best mate goes off on sniffing adventure over the hills.
    I lost my childhood pet dog (and cat shortly after him) that had been with me for 16 years. It took me 3 years to be able to think about another pet.
    We stopped by the pound on the spur of the moment, and rescued a lovely dog, aged 7 (8 now). I had forgotten how much love there is in a pair of big brown eyes, a wet nose, a slimy lick and a facefull of dog breath.
    Now to quote something that always brings a tear to my eye:
    “Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.
    When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.
    There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together.
    There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.
    All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.
    The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.
    They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.
    You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.
    Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together.”
    Author unknown…

  3. Through sad experience I know that being with your dog when she dies doesn’t make you feel any better. When the pain of her loss eases a bit, might it help to reflect on what your presence meant to your friend? For your dog to know she was a beloved member of a pack, and valid, and accepted.
    How could you have given her a better last gift?
    Ferris had a sweet face.

  5. I know what it is like to lose a great dog and I feel your pain. There is nothing like an awesome dog. Those looks they give you where you almost know what they are thinking, the excitement when you walk in the door. I won’t say it will get better over time but you will cherish the time you had with them.

  7. Oh Wil.
    My eyes are full of tears for Ferris as I write this.
    I’m sending thoughts of love and healing your way. I can’t imagine how much it must hurt to lose such an awesome ddog.

  9. I am so sorry to hear about Ferris. You feel a kind of unspeakable hurt and emptiness – but you saved her. And gave her love and a good home and she made you laugh until you cried. Full cycle. I think she’s somewhere good, sniffing another dog’s butt right now in a great big dog park. Woof!

  12. I signed up for a Typepad account just so I could offer my condolences. I’m so very sorry for your loss. It’s so so so hard to lose a family member, especially those with unconditional love to give.

  13. The very first thing I thought of was all the Ferris stories we’ve heard over the years. This is the first thing that popped into my head:
    Anne comes home from work the next day, comes in the door, looks at me and says, “Ferris.”
    “Bueller?”
    “Sort of. Save Ferris!”
    Okay, there is this band from OC that we LOVE called Save Ferris. They play with our friends fairview a lot. They rule.
    Anne says, “Get it? Save Ferris. I totally saved Ferris!”
    I looked at the dog, looked at her sweet, marble eyes and soft little puppy-fuzzy-head, and it was perfect. Not surprising, considering that it came from my wife.
    So her name is “Ferris”.
    Isn’t that a cool story?
    (http://www.wilwheaton.net/mt/archives/000802.php)
    Yes, it is. I’m glad y’all saved Ferris.

  14. I’m so sorry you lost your friend. There is no better gift you could ever give a dog than a loving home. How kind of Ann and you to take her in and give her such a gift.

  15. In the last year, we’ve lost three dogs. Our 13-yr-old lab/shepherd to cancer, my grandmother’s dog that we had adopted to old age and a 7-month-old puppy to a genetic defect. It never gets easier, I cried as hard over the puppy that I hadn’t known as long as I did over our older ones. I know how painful it is. Our pain eased a bit when we rescued another puppy from a shelter (we did it more for our other puppy’s brother than for ourselves, he was lost without his sister) – that’s not the way for everyone to go – but it helped.
    We’re so very sorry for your loss. Our thoughts are with you and your family.

  16. I am so sorry for your loss… I lost my precious doggie over 10 years ago. She was 17, and she was my first baby. I still mist up when I talk about her. It only took 9 years for me to be ready for a new furry addition to our family. Now we have a new “fur-baby” to love.

  17. I’m so sorry for your loss. I know it doesn’t help right now, but the fact that you were there will be comforting later. As terrible, and as traumatic for you as it was, at least you will never have to wonder if things could have been different.
    You were there.
    She wasn’t alone.
    You did everything that could have been done.
    She was a very lucky dog, and I’m sure she had a happy life with your family.

  18. I had a dog, Shera, who passed away a few years ago. Loved her so much. I first got her when I was about 17 and Shera was by my side for so many things and changes in my life and when she passed I felt a huge loss and cried for days. I still miss her all the time. Losing a loving pet (family, as I see them) can be so hard on the emotions. I really am sorry to hear about your loss. Ferris will be missed by your readers as well.

  22. Oh, Wil… I’m so sorry. I know exactly how you feel. I had a canine sister, Sandy, for 13 years. My sincerest and most heartfelt condolences to you, Anne, and the boys. And your other animals, too. *sob*
    With love,
    Alicia

  23. Oh no, I’m so sorry to hear that, poor Ferris… it must have been a huge comfort for her that you were with her though.
    And you gave her a great life beforehand – your posts that mentioned her were always a joy to read!
    I’ve lost two much-loved dogs in the last 3 years, and the first time, I thought the pain would never end, plus the guilt (!this may not apply to you at all!) of all the walks postponed or cut short, the times I could’ve afforded some steak for my hound but bought something for me instead, for simply not being able to save him… oh it was irrational, but endless.
    The second time, I learned to flood the grief-pain with love for my dog, as though he were still there (I don’t mean that in any mystical way) and that helped when it got too debilitating. I mention that purely in case it’s helpful, and knowing full well it might not be.
    I second the comments about getting another dog, preferably another rescue mutt, not as any kind of replacement, but as a tribute, because millions of animals in the US alone need homing and face euthenasia each year, and they DO help with some of the pain, just to know you’re helping another little furry one out is some kind of comfort.
    Either way grief sucks, death sucks, whoever invented it all needs a kick up the arse, and I wish you and all your family the best at this horrible time. The pain will pass, and it won’t be because you’ve forgotten her either.
    But it will be f*~^ing horrible first. God should weep at the pain we have to feel whenever we lose those we love.
    As an aside, I found these pages about bereavement (by a charity for the elderly in the UK) very helpful – http://www.helptheaged.org.uk/en-gb/AdviceSupport/HealthAdvice/Issues/Bereavement/default.htm
    Much of it isn’t applicable for losing a companion animal of course, nonetheless I’m taking a punt on being inapproproate by posting it, because it’s helped me, and it’s wise stuff for anyone at any age who’s dealing with grief.

  25. Wil I am so very sorry.
    I always loved reading about Ferris in the stories you’d tell.
    She was an amazing and beautiful friend.
    Very, very sorry.

  28. My heart goes out to you and your family, shug. Hubby and I have gone through this twice in the last few years, with our beloved Siamese boys, Moon Monkey and Romeo. I know, it just rips your freakin’ heart out for a while, but, in time, may you find comfort in the memories of that sweet, sweet dog. {{{HUGS}}} and love to y’all.
    =^..^=

  29. my condolences wil… my cat patches is in her last days and we are all counting the hours until she’s gone. i’m grieving terribly right now (anticipatory grief, they call it) so i sympathize with you. it’s so hard… a lot harder than i ever thought it would be.
    we’re with you. and fwiw, thank you for sharing in your grief, because it’s helping me as well.

  30. I’m grieving with you tonight for your loss Wil. Dogs are truly amazing animals and companions, and Ferris was a testament to the species. You and Anne gave her a wonderful life.

  32. Having experienced the loss of a loved one, I offer these words of advice. Talk about the one you have lost. Share the great memories that you have, for our loved ones live on in our memories. Sharing these positive memories helps you move past your grief and begin the next phase of figuring out how to live without your loved one. Read the stories that you have written about Ferris. Share them with others. Cry, laugh, sob, sigh, and hug the ones that you still have. They share your loss and love.

  33. I’m so sorry to hear this. She was definitely a great, great dog who was part of a great family. I love your stories about her. My thoughts are with you guys. *hugs*

  34. I’ve been fortunate to work with many rescued dogs and horses… while they don’t always turn-around 100%, the ones that do make for the best companions—even with their quirks and eccentricities. We treat our animals like family, and I have no shame in saying that I am guilty of a little anthropomorphism when it comes to their emotions… I believe they are grateful when they finally realize they’ve been rescued from abandonment (or abuse) and I believe they truly are capable of expressing love.
    In my world, Ferris loved you as equally as you loved her. You gave her a good life.

  36. My sincere condolences to you and your family. The only thing that I think in times like this is that you gave her a wonderful life. She was well cared for and well loved and that is all we can do for our beloved animals.

  37. @cowboy, I tweeted (twittered?) @ you, I think, just signed up to do it – I feel your loss too, oh man do I ever. This shit sucks, we pay back the love and joy they give us with interest at first when they leave, doubly so when we’re buying their FFS last few meals or whatever, and KNOWING what’s coming.
    I feel your pain, and I’ve felt some for my pups, the day before at least. It SUCKS. Bear up, love your pussycat for all you’re worth now AND after, and I wish, I so wish, I could help – but of course the final irony is, no-one ever can.

  38. I’m so awfully sorry, Wil. You’re all so lucky to have had each other. She was a beautiful girl, with a wonderful family (and such magnificent ears!). I’ll be thinking of you guys.

  39. Wil, my sincerest condolences to you, Anne, Ryan, and Nolan regarding the passing of your beloved pet Ferris.
    The bond that can develop between pet and owner is often profound. May you find comfort in the wake of your loss.

  42. I know how hard it is to lose a pet, having lost my cat of 21 years this past December. My thoughts are with you. Believe me, I understand. It hurts and words don’t really help.

  48. I’m so sorry. There are no words to express how much it hurts or how sorry I am for your loss. I lost my 13 1/2 year old baby dog just over 2 months ago, and it still hurts.
    So be kind to yourself, and let yourself grieve. There is no right way to say goodbye, other than the way you need to and that works for you and your family.
    For what it’s worth, I loved reading the tweets and stories about Ferris. She was clearly well loved and lived a charmed life ending up in your family.

  49. I’m so sorry. Know that many of us out here loved Ferris and will miss the stories about him, and that while we might not know your personal grief, we understand the deep grief of losing a canine family member. You & your family will be in my thoughts.

  50. It’s redundant, cliché, and otherwise completely unoriginal…
    I’m sorry, Wil. May you and your family find peace in the days to come. Ferris’ life was better for knowing you, just as you were better for knowing her. Give thanks for the time you shared together and remember her well as your tears flow. We all loved Ferris through your writing, so be assured that we share your pain. Be well, good sir, Be well.

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