In loving memory of Seamus Wheaton, the best dog.

Yesterday afternoon, Seamus collapsed on our living room floor. We took him to the emergency vet, where they ran some tests, and discovered a large mass on his spleen. He had a 105 fever, and he wasn’t responsive. The doctor told us he was in critical condition.

At almost 12 years-old, Seamus wasn’t a candidate for surgery (and we weren’t going to put him through that, anyway), so at midnight last night, we said goodbye to the best boy in the world.

I know that a lot of you care about our pets, because we post lots of pictures of them and talk about them all the time. You know how much we love them, and you know how much you love your pets, so you know how much this loss hurts all of us.

This overwhelming pain I feel right now is the price we know we’re going to pay for the years we have with our four-legged family memebers. We’ve always known the day would come when he wouldn’t be in our lives, but that didn’t make the arrival of that day any easier.

I’m so grateful we got to be with him in his final moments, and we got to tell him goodbye. We got to thank him for all the joy and love he brought into our lives. We got to kiss him and hug him, and he passed peacefully, with the two people who loved him more than anything by his side.

Seamus was a special dog. At doggy daycare, they used him to evaluate new dogs, because they knew what a good citizen he was. I was always like a proud parent about that. He was a fantastic pack leader for Marlowe. He taught her how to be a dog, and he lives on in her, a little bit.

I’m going to miss him so much. I keep automatically looking for him in all of his places around the house. I know the next few weeks are going to be tough. Eventually, all that will be left is the memory of the joy and love he gave us.

But right now, today, it hurts so much. I miss his grey face so much, and I want to kiss the spot on his big old blockhead one more time.

He was such a wonderful dog, and such a blessing to have in our family. I love him, and I will miss him forever.

Bye bye, Seamus. You were the best boy, and your whole pack loves you. If heaven exists, and dogs go there, I hope you’re playing ball with Riley and Ferris.

177 thoughts on “In loving memory of Seamus Wheaton, the best dog.”

  1. Oh geez…that’s awful news. I’m sincerely sorry for the loss of your beloved friend. It is definitely one of the cruelties in life that we inevitably outlive our pets. It’s just not fair that their lives are so short. My deepest condolences to you and Anne. I know there’s a big hole in your hearts right now……

  3. I’m sorry that you all had to go through this. Your stories about him, Riley, and Marlow over the years have been wonderful. Please share more about Seamus if you can some day in the future. He sounded awesome.

  8. I have no words. But I have lots and lots and lots of psychic hugs for all of you.

    It sucks, but as you say it’s the price we pay for caring.

  9. So sorry for your loss. I recently went through a similar situation. Never easy to lose a pet. Fortunately the leave us with wonderful memories of furry love and laughter to hold on to.

  10. What a beautiful tribute to a precious being. So much love. Holding you very, very close in my heart.

  11. This breaks my heart for you. I just lost my 12 yr old Nessa girl on Wednesday. My only consolation is that she’s no longer in pain.

  12. Oh, I’m so sorry, Wil. I have been there — just months ago — and I know how awful this is. For you and your whole pack.

    No words can help right now, but we grieve with you.

  15. I’m so sorry for your loss! It’s so incredibly tough to lose a pet and it takes a long time to process, but you are absolutely right that eventually all that remains are the joyful memories. I wish you and your family all the best for that painful process!

  17. Oh Wil, I’m so sorry. It hurts so badly, because the love is so real. I’m glad he had such a wonderful mum and dad who loved him and took great care of him. I hope you both take good care of yourselves as you grieve. ❤️🌈

  18. I believe it was Will Rogers who said “If dogs don’t go to heaven, when I die, I want to go where they do.” Dogspeed, Seamus.

  19. We know. Reading this opens wounds that I like to pretend are healed. As soon as you mentioned kissing his “block head” I could feel it and smell the oddly sweet scent of so many block heads I have kissed. No matter how old and stinky the dog, that spot always smells like it was fresh out of the bath. That must be what love smells like, maybe. 💕

  23. I am very sorry for your loss! Almost exactly a year ago, we lost our beautiful Ginny and I still miss her to this day. Take care of yourselves and be protective of your time to grieve.

  24. I am so terribly sorry for your loss of your buddy. I know how much it hurts. Try to keep in mind how happy you did make him and that he knew how much you love him. Time does heal the wound. Someday, the ache will be less a sense of suffering and more a quiet happiness in knowing you loved and were loved. I’m glad you were with him when he passed on-it’s such a comfort for both humans and their four-legged family members. My husband and I send all our love to you.

  27. I’m so sorry for your loss, Wil, and will be giving my furry crew extra pets and snuggles today in honor of Seamus.

  28. Sorry to hear this Wil. It’s never easy to lose a pet, even when they have had long life and giving them release spares them from suffering of illness. We had to put 1 of our dogs to sleep last year and it was tough. We’ve gotten to the stage now were we can speak of him again with fond memory and not as much sadness. Prayer for you and your family as you deal with this loss.

  29. I’m so sorry for your loss. You gave him a good life and I’m sure he knew how lucky he was to have you.

  32. So sorry. Give Anne and Marlowe extra hugs. Love shared multiplies love, and diffuses pain.

  33. I am so sorry…. Please take care, spend the time you need with Anne to grieve… Huge hugs to you both, and many pets to your other fur babies…..

  34. Condolences to you and your family. Thank you for sharing the lovely pictures of him over the years with us.

  35. Our hearts…

    ”It came to me that every time I lose a dog they
    take a piece of my heart with them, and
    every new dog who comes into my
    life gifts me with a piece of
    their heart. If I live long
    enough, all the components
    of my heart will be DOG,
    and I will become as
    generous and
    loving as
    they are.”

    -Unknown

  38. I remember when you got him, I thought Seamus was a great name. That was… years after I started reading this blog.

    My heart dog was Suzie, 1996 – 2008, I visit where she was buried every year. There was Luna: 2000 – 2009. Her urn is behind Siddhartha on my office bookshelf. Then Rojo, my partner’s heart dog: 2006 – 2014. A very deep loss, his urn sits behind “Still Life With Woodpecker” by Tom Robbins. Then there was Cowboy, 2005 – 2019. He was a working cowdog until his retirement (his rancher-lady, a friend of ours, passed away). He came to live with us, and we taught him to sleep on the couch and play with toys. He enjoyed his retirement and was grateful to us for his last six years. His urn is behind “Be Tough or Be Gone” by Tom Davis.

    You have been my friend (whether you know it or not) for nearly two decades, and I hurt for you. Be well.

  39. Losing a dog is really hard. I hate that part.
    The only place I can find comfort is knowing that outliving a pet is better than having them outlive me.

  41. I am so sorry for your loss. Over the years I’ve said farewell to four dogs, and had another disappear into the aether–which is preferable to the more likely “taken by coyotes” outcome–plus four cats who have shared our lives and moved on. I promised myself never again… but relented and there is a four month old puppy sleeping on my foot as I type type this.

  43. I am so sorry for your loss…I am unfortunately quite familiar with the “look for them in their place around the house” action, and the heartbreak that accompanies it. Just focus on what a wonderful life you gave him, and the joy he gave you and your family.

  45. Wil, I know Seamus was the best dog, and no best dog is replaceable. But I also know that another dog will come into your life, and this new dog will also be the best dog. Cynical patriarchies have for millennia used Love of God to control the masses, but Love of Dog does precisely the opposite, bringing out in a dog’s humans the very same qualities that we would hope to find in a deity. If there’s a God, I know he’s a lot more like Seamus than like the men who think it is their prerogative to tell you how to love. And wherever Seamus is, right now, he’s also in you and Anne and all those who loved him. I know you’ll continue to be kind to him and to his memory. Cry for a time, but also know that Seamus has done something wonderful in your life that death cannot take away.

  46. It’s hard to let a pet go. The pain and guilt of not being able to help them is real. By choosing to let them go, one is relieving them of the pain they are in by taking that pain on ourselves.

    I lost my senior kitty about 18 months ago. Someone told me that (in a more eloquent way) and it helped me afterwards. I hope it helps you.

  48. Wil and Ann: So sorry for your loss! You are right — we all feel a little bit like we lost one of ours, since you posted so many pictures of him and talked about him.

  49. The price that we pay for all the love is steep, but the more love there is in the world the better it will be. Seamus was indeed the Best Dog and will be missed by many of us who never had the chance to meet him. Virtual hugs to you and Anne and pets to Marlowe.

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