Today marks a month since we lost our Yukon.
Our baby died in his sleep due to congestive heart failure and complications from Valley Fever at the age of about 4. We’d had him for just short of three years — and we would still do anything to have him in our lives for a whole lot longer.
The first few weeks without him were really, really hard.
The hardest part was the forgetting, and then the remembering.
I’d come home from teaching yoga every Monday and Wednesday night, and immediately look at the chaise lounge to see Yukon’s reaction to my arrival — only to remember that Yukon was gone.
I’d get ready for bed and call Yukon from the other room, only to remember he wouldn’t come trotting into our bedroom anymore.
I’d notice that the apartment felt quiet, and I would immediately just assume Yukon was in the side yard. I’d go to look for him only to remember he was gone.
His gotcha day — this past Sunday — was also so difficult. I spent the day being mad at myself for my initial reaction to Yukon’s adoption. I was originally so annoyed at Ryan for bringing a dog home three years ago without any preparation or planning. And now, I’d obviously do anything for more time with Yukon.
We had Yukon cremated at Lasting Paws here in Flagstaff. Kim, Feather and the staff at Lasting Paws were so fantastic to us. They let us stay for the whole process, and let Ryan help as well, which was very cathartic for him.
We had two paw print casts made for us, and we brought Yukon’s ashes home in a simple urn we plan to upgrade later.
The two of us went on a hike in Sedona a few days after Yukon’s death, and talked about how much he would have loved to have been there, and how it just wasn’t the same exploring the outdoors without Yukon.
We made the same comments during our backpacking trip in Sabino Canyon. It just wasn’t as fun without Yukon cuddling up in our tent with us.
We put together a shared photo album in iCloud and spent a lot of time over the following days crying, sharing memories, looking at photos and talking about Yukon.
And, we still do that! I don’t think we’ll ever stop talking about Yukon, or looking at photos of Yukon, or narrating Yukon’s “thoughts” (if you’re a dog owner, you get it) out loud to each other. We loved him so, so much.
The support we got from our friends, family and community during our grieving process was so heartwarming.
Ryan’s parents arrived at our apartment the morning of Yukon’s cremation to be there for Ryan. They took us to lunch afterward, which was a good distraction for Ryan.
Our friend Rachel sent us a beautiful watercolor painting of Yukon. I plan to scan it and get it printed on a coffee mug for Ryan.
Our friends Jody and Lauren made a tree donation in Yukon’s honor, and we got so many phone calls and texts and cards from friends and family.
Even Chewy was fantastic. We ordered a lot of Yukon’s medications, supplies and toys from Chewy. They refunded us for some of our recent purchases and encouraged us to donate our unneeded supplies to our local shelter.
Which we did. We dropped off some of Yukon’s unused food and pill pockets at High Country Humane.
Yukon was like a child to us, and it probably seems really silly and trivial to some folks, but if you’ve ever loved and lost a pet, we know you understand.
Ryan and I also spent some time after Yukon’s death delivering thank you cards to everyone who helped us with his pet care over the past few years — his vets, cardiologists, daycares and pet sitters.
And then… we got Ochi.
It’s not quite as lonely in our house now that we have Ochi. I wasn’t planning on getting a dog so soon after Yukon’s death, but after hearing Ochi’s story, it was hard to say no to him — especially knowing we could offer this dog a better life.
I was a little worried that I would compare Ochi to Yukon, and I would forget about Yukon now that we have Ochi, but so far, that’s not the case at all.
I still miss Yukon so, so much. It’s impossible to replace him! And he and Ochi are both just so different. They really do have entirely different spaces carved out in my heart.
Don’t get be wrong- I still look at photos and cry just about every day! But the anguish eases up a bit more with each passing moment, and I’m glad Ryan and I are both able to transition from a place of despair to a place of acceptance and gratitude.
We will forever be grateful for the time we got to spend with our beloved husky.
