The Days After

The first morning that we awoke without her was for us a very emotional laden moment.

We missed the usual morning ritual, her warm morning welcome quacking. The sight of her empty nest was almost unbearable. We sat in silence, having our breakfast on the kitchen table ... gazing outside. We both had problems to speak about the future and what to do now.

Therefore we left everything outside in the garden as it was and we took the time to see the film pictures of her in better times.

That was what we needed!

It felt so good to see her as baby, as toddler, how we made nests together and how she gave me cuddles.

We both could smile again after such a long time of sadness. We considered ourselves so lucky to have known her.

The next days we spend most of our time to see the film pictures of her and to convert them from VHS to DVD (to secure them). In the mean time I was writing down the posts for my blog (I can also use this to tell Pipke's full story).

Then I was thinking: what a way to tell a story! You don't know yet how it started (if you have not read the short story on Jen's blog) and now I told you already the end, but I assure you: the between story will surprise you.

Afraid that I would forget things, I wrote down everything that I could remember. Writing down her story gave me solace, it seemed as if she was still alive as long as I wrote about her. Sometimes it was very difficult to keep my emotions under control and I could not concentrate on other matters than Pipke.

TV or radio, I could not stand it. A beautiful song made me cry.

I couldn't sleep well because I relived over and over again Pipke's struggle.

Days we avoided contact with people who knew Pipke because we were afraid to lose control about our emotions.

So now and then we walked through the garden to her pond. Everything lay there still as she had left the place for the last time.

We both noticed that the world around us sounded so much different, it was such an immense silence now.

First we didn't know what to do with her inclosure, now that the place was no longer needed. After a while we decided to leave it as it was, this would be her place for ever. In Spring we are going to clean the place up and make a beautiful spot of it.

The morning that we planned to remove her veranda to the back of the garden my husband called me: "come quick ...look!" Several little birds sat on Pipke's veranda (I could take a picture of one). This was the first time that this happened. It seemed almost if they came looking for Pipke.

Now her veranda has a place in the back of our garden, behind the edge, and now it stores a small lawn mower.

For the first time since we live in our house we had to mow the lawn without her.

Gardening without our “garden assistant” Is no longer fun, it has lost the luster it once had, now we do it because it must be done.

When Pipke was still here we were outside as much as we could. Even when it rained or in Winter we spend at least one and a half hour in the garden with her, since she died... our back door remains closed for days .

Since I stood there with her on the window, looking outside into the garden, also I have lost interest for the outside world. I never could imagine that my life would be so empty without her.

Now I am reading the book that I ordered so long ago: Wesley the Owl, written by Stacey O'Brien.

It gives me so much consolation! I discovered not only that we experienced both so much the same but also that the way I behave now is not abnormal. Stacey also became very emotional when Wesley died. Of course, as a biologist she approached her story also scientific, but she felt the same for Wesley as I felt for Pipke.

At the moment that I was reading page 36 (love me, love my owl) I became curious and went to the end of the book. I discovered that when Stacey reads books with animal stories she often reads the end of these books first. I did the same.

She wrote what also I think and feel, I quote: “the one thing that I hate about animal stories is that after you've almost read the entire book and you really care about the animal, they go and tell you all about how the animal died. So you should stop reading now if you don't want to hear about Wesley dying. But I need to tell you.”

I also needed to tell Pipke's story, I wanted you to know how wonderful she was, I wanted to share this with you.

I only do regret that I confronted you with dead and grief, pain and sorrow, I wished I could tell you that she lived for ever, but ... that's something that only happens in fairy tales and this is: reality!

Now I envy Stacey a little because, she had the opportunity to tell her story before a life audience, she had someone who encouraged and helped her to write the book. That's something I will never experience, but she deserves the success with her book. She made this beautiful story possible.

Thus, I will comfort myself with the idea that maybe someone reads Pipke's story here on blogger, and I hope ... that this someone comes at the end to the conclusion: (not taken into account the mistakes in my English grammar or my lack of writers talent) that it was worth to have read it.

If that's the case, then I will be pleased!

Now, before you all get enough of this (if that's not already the case), and although I still mourn, from now on, no more tears*, I am going to try only to smile because she has lived.

Till next time....with beautiful memories!:)

PS: * I promise to do my best!

Now I am going to read the middle part of Stacey's book.

Pipke's Very Last Journey

Already a few days before... we had prepared everything for Pipke's last journey.

We'd expected it much earlier but she was a fighter, she would not give up so easy, and now it had happened... Pipke was no longer there. She had lost her very last battle after such a fierce fight, now she had peace.

I held her still warm but lifeless little body in my arms as long as I could. We gave her a last cuddle and laid her to rest in her plastic container. It was her own container, she traveled in it 295 times to the vet and also at least 15 times to the children's farm which we visited when she was only a few months old. She knew that container very well, when she saw it she knew that it meant: going to the vet.

Many years before the vet had handed us a brochure with information about a crematorium for animals. Every time Pipke went ill we were afraid that we had to use it, and now we had to, it became reality.

My husband called the crematorium to make an appointment. They asked us which animal it concerned. Of course they were very surprised to hear that it went about: a duck. That was something that they had not yet encountered. First they said that they didn't cremate farm animals (to prevent the spread of contagious diseases), but when we told them the name of our vet and that he had given us their address, that she was a pet and never had contact with other ducks, they agreed.

We could bring her to them.

They expected us at 3.45 PM. They told us that it was important to keep her as cold as possible and therefore we kept Pipke in her container (well covered) outside, at the place where once her dog's nest stood.

In the meantime we tried to sleep but we didn't succeed in it, we were too much occupied with what had happened and what still would go to happen. Before we had to leave we gave her still a cuddle... she felt so cold now! It was a creepy sensation, after to have felt her warmth all those years.

Our heart broke when we left the house with her for the last time. As usual we turned on the alarm installation.

That makes a beeping noise ... it made her always aware that we went, and it also warned her when we came back home (then the beep was longer).

It was every time such a warm welcome when we came back home, she could be so happy to see us back. Then she started quacking very loud.. and when the back door opened then not soon enough she knocked with her beak on the door until it went open. (You can compare it with the welcome a dog gives you.)

Then it was time to cuddle! She had so much to tell us then, of course in her own language, the whole time quacking and making funny noises. Thereafter we had to make a walk in the garden and then my hubby searched together with her after earth worms. That was a real treat for her, and when the worms came not quick enough to the surface (my hubby planted a fork in the soil and knocked on it, and so they were forced to come to the surface) she began to peck on my hubby's shoes as if she was saying: come on man ... let them come!

Anyhow, we drove to the crematorium in silence. That silence was only broken off to pick up memories of the happy times together with her, or to talk about her last days. We still tried to convince ourselves that we had done what we thought was best for her. We comforted each other with the words: it has been a good time together with her ... we never had wanted to miss it.

When we arrived at the crematorium they received us with sympathy. They asked us of course how it came that we had a duck as pet and we told them the short story of Pipke. They could understand that we had such a close bond with her, they understood our grief. They said that they had even snakes and iguana to cremate, animals with a much less charming appearance than Pipke, but also much loved by the owners.

They took the container with Pipke, they would prepare her so that we could say farewell to her.

After a while they brought us to a small hall (screened with a curtain) which was situated right in front of the furnace. We could take as much time as we liked to say farewell.

What disturbed us when we entered that small place was ... the noise of the burner... that was such a creepy noise ... it seemed almost if the burner was impatient and greedy to consume his next prey. Pipke was now literally his “sitting duck” (as they say in English).

She lay there on a small table on a plaid with dogs foot prints (of course they had no duck foot prints in stock). She was covered with a small blanket, only showing her head and neck. The place was beautiful decorated and only lightened by burning candles. It was very hot in there.

First we stood there for a while in silence, then we took a few pictures, gave her a cuddle and kissed her for the very last time.

When we came outside they comforted us and suggested us to wait in a salon while the cremation took place. It would be finished after an half hour. They offered us a cup of coffee and if we liked we could watch National Geographic on TV, but we were not interested in it.

While we were waiting there we saw that a van arrived. A man and a woman stepped out and opened the back door and then a young corpulent huge guy stepped out, it seemed almost a giant. He behaved very weird ... swinging his arms to all directions ... gesturing ... talking loud. They brought a very large black dead dog, covered with a blanket ... we only could see his head. Thereafter we saw the young guy in an other small hall (the curtains were not closed) hugging his dog while he still kept swinging his hands, walking back and forth around the dog. We both thought that there was something wrong with this young man, this was not only grief.

After waiting half an hour they asked us to come to the office to fill in the required papers and to choose an urn. We chose one in the form of a little heart, a golden one.

While we were waiting for Pipke's remains we talked with the lady behind the desk about animals and the influence they can have on someone's life.

Then she asked us if we had seen that heavy huge young guy.

She told us that this was such an extreme sad story.

That young giant was a mentally retarded boy, not yet 18 years old. He had periods that he became very violent, he even attacked his parents, they were afraid to be alone in the house with him. Therefore they had bought him this dog when he was only 11 years old, and since then it went much better with him. There still had been moments of very aggressive behavior but then the dog could calm him down. The parents had tried to find a place for him in a mentally retarded relief center for the weekends (to have a break, to have some rest) but they found no place for him because they couldn't handle him, they couldn't keep him under control.

Now that young guy's best friend was dead, the best that could happen to him, to calm him down was no longer there! Now he had no more grip on his life and the parents had lost not only a best friend but also their greatest support in hard times.

They were afraid for what was going to happen now, they didn't know what they could expect.

They were downhearted, afraid to go home. Their life must be a nightmare.

After this conversation the lady on the desk handed us Pipke's golden heart and a certificate that declared that the ashes in it were Pipke's. They said that only two tablespoons remained of her tiny body.

When we drove home we were sad, but our sadness faded for a while when we thought on the parents and their retarded giant and we said to each other: life isn't fair!

Coming home ... I must not describe it ... you can imagine.

We took Pipke's golden heart and gave it a special place. Since then we strike her heart often when we pass by, when we are going to sleep ... every morning that we awake.

Now we must learn to live with her absence and that's not easy. In the garden we still find feathers of her covered under the plants.

They say: time heals all wounds ... I hope that this wound will heal also ... but it will leave behind a great scar.

From now on our life will be divided in two parts ... the time together with Pipke ... and the time after.

That time thereafter is of less importance for me ... I prefer to think on the time with her ... on the beautiful happy moments we had together. The best part of our life!

We have many film pictures of her and I will show them to you in the near future. So you can see how she really was: a happy wonderful little creature!

Two days after she died my husband discovered that he forgot to rip off the blades from the almanac which hangs in our garage. That was something he never forgot ... it seemed as if the world had stood still!

My husband got tears in his eyes when he read the text on the reverse side of Monday September 14*, it said:

In an embittered world a drop of love is as an

ocean in the desert .

The love she gave us had the equivalent of all oceans together.

We are so grateful for it

PS:* I can hear you thinking out loud now: she is inventing this, this suits well in the story!

No, I'm really telling the truth, here is the proof! (see picture)

This is the reverse side of the blade. 

On the left side below is the Dutch text. 

It says:' In een verbitterde wereld is een druppel liefde als een oceaan in de woestijn.'

So, use Google Translate if you don't speak Dutch. 

Pipke's Very Last Fight

WARNING: 

This post is about death. 
If you don’t want to read about death in great detail, 
best stop reading now.
**********
                                                                    

Last August started off full of hope. Pipke's health was improving. She had gained weight and was eating well for more than a month already. I was preparing a post about her and the electric guitar man.

Yes, my hubby was already working on his new project. His electric guitar.

It was funny to see how Pipke stood there in the doorway while he was working. She had taken on a new pose... we thought.... (she leaned with her belly against the door post).

It was a disillusion to discover later that this pose ... was in fact the forerunner of bad news. Therefore I postponed that post...it was no longer funny...it was rather harrowing that we first laughed with it.

From then on she began to eat less and less. She staggered on her little feet, she almost never slept on her belly. That worried us very much. You could sense exhaustion.

.

Because her weight went down so much we revisited the vet for tube feeding on August 26. (For the19^th time over the past ten years, each time for a period of 14, sometimes even 30 days).

On September, 7 there was still no progress and her weight went still downwards... the tube feeding became a real torture for her. Therefore, overwhelmed with sorrow and much pain in our heart we decided to stop the tube feeding.

This was the worst day in our life so far.

It seemed if we had given her up, but that was not at all the case, we could no longer see her suffer. Therefore we still went to the vet, but now only for pain release and vitamins injections, but after a few days, we saw -- that also that became too much for her.

On September, 9 she had her first stroke after she stepped the whole distance alone by herself to her pond. It was such a heartbreaking experience, we thought she had died. We had already said farewell to her, and then...she jumped up again ... very afraid .... looking astonished around. It seemed if she came from very far away.

The rest of that day we kept her inside the house and from then on we installed a warmth lamp for her (even inside the house). You could see that she enjoyed the warmth while she slept in my arms on her belly. That was the first time in more than fourteen days that we saw her sleeping on her belly. That evening when I put her outside in her veranda she moaned, she had never done that before.

That was so heartrending to hear! I said to my husband: "I would like to keep her indoors" but my husband said that "this was not possible".

That night ...I almost couldn't sleep, every few hours I went downstairs to see how she was doing. She stood the whole time with one paw on her water bowl, drinking... without resting. In the very early morning (it was still dark), I took her inside the house. Then I took the decision: from now on she stays inside!

The night of September, 10 -- I slept on a cot in the laundry room. For her - we placed her dog bed next to the cot on the floor with a little fence around it, but the whole time she stood there against the fence, wobbling on her feet... looking at me... almost begging to pick her up. I couldn't bear to watch how she stood there, so fragile! Therefore I took her up and from then on she slept on her belly on my breast, absorbing the warmth of my body. She cuddled me over and over again, that was so sweet..it seemed if she would thank me.

On the cot

The following nights I slept with her (rather dozed off so now and then) on the sofa in the living room because sleeping on that cot became almost a torture for me. My husband slept on the other sofa in the room.

After her first stroke you saw her deteriorating very fast.

We tried to comfort her as much we could.

Sometimes, when I stood at the window with her looking out into the garden she started to moan to go outside.

Then I walked with her in my arms through the garden, together with my hubby like we had done so many times before, but this time with one difference: I had to carry her now because she could almost walk no more by herself.

So now and then we went to her pond.

My hubby cleaned her pond and refreshed the water once again so that she could take a clean bath. Oh... that was so tough... knowing... that this would be probably the last bath in her pond.

With everything she did I had to support her, but you could see that she enjoyed being in the garden together with us.

Sometimes, when I sat in the kitchen with her and she heard that my hubby opened the back door (to go to his garden house to work on his guitar), she looked up and turned her head -- then her eyes followed my hubby going outside -- and then she moaned to go with him

Even now she wanted to be his assistant carpenter. Therefore I went with her to the garden house to watch what my hubby was doing. You could see that she was satisfied to be there.

On the evening of September, 11 we went outside with her for the last time. It seemed if she was saying good bye to her little world. It was remarkable... how she was looking around.... observing everything!

For the last time... we sat together on the garden bench... with the three of us... in silence.. listening to the tune* of the ice cream car ... that passed by... as usual around this time... for her... for the very last time.

The days thereafter... there was no longer interest for the outside world. When we stood then at the window ...looking outside into the garden... she was very silent... as if she knew that the end was near.

She became weaker and weaker, skin and bones, she weighed only 802 grams!

The last seven days and also the last four nights I held her close to me to keep her warm and to comfort her. She slept constantly on my breast. So now and then I walked around with her because my body became too stiff from lying down or sitting in the same position.

It was remarkable that during those nights, sometimes I dozed off for a while and then: I didn't turn my body, it seemed almost if my back was glued down on the sofa so that I couldn't hurt her by turning around.

When I opened my eyes then... I saw straight in Pipke's eyes...she was watching me while I dozed off. 

Those lovely sweet eyes... I shall remember them for the rest of my days!

We had always water ready to let her drink. When I asked her then: drink, drink (she understood very well what we said to her, we had our own special language, I always said: we speak “Quacks” to each other) she made a smacking noise with her beak to let us know that she wanted to drink.

Sometimes she had problems with swallowing, then I had to help her to swallow the water that she drunk by massaging her neck. You could see that she appreciated this very much because she held her head up high then, almost like asking for help.

There were moments that I thought that her breathing had stopped and then I stopped my breath to feel hers. Her heartbeat went sometimes so fast ... almost as fast as the shots of a tommy gun.

She had yet five times an other stroke and oh, that was every time such an heartrending experience... to see her suffer so much. Sometimes the stroke took a few hours, and then when we thought it was over.... she jumped up again ...so afraid. Then she crawled very dense against me and pushed her little head against my face in search of security

The night following on September, 13 we experienced the worst night of her and our life.

We couldn't let her suffer more ... it was hopeless!

Oh ... what we once feared the most: we had to let her put down. We had to free her from the pain. She was such a brave fighter ... and we fought together with her ... but ... she had no longer the force to fight. Those last days of her life ....together with her...were the most intensive days of our life.

On Monday morning September, 14 we called the vet, he would call us back for the exact hour.

We sat as long as we could with our hands around Pipke, hugging her... speaking soft to her, and when my husband went away to answer the phone call of the vet ... she moaned a little. It seemed if she knew that .... oh ... I burst into tears very loud!

My dear little Pipke, I wished that we didn't have to take this decision!

The vet came to our house a half hour later (normally his assistant was on duty, but he himself  postponed a not urgent surgery to take care for Pipke).

When my husband opened the door to let him in, I heard my hubby burst into tears... asking the vet to apologize him because he could not keep his emotions under control.

The vet comforted him and said that showing no emotions now would be rather heartless. He knew Pipke already ten years, and also for him she was a special case, not just a duck.

When he saw Pipke, he was really shocked that she was deteriorated so fast. He confirmed that it was hopeless, that it was good that we had called him otherwise, Pipke would have died a hideous death.

Then ... he gave her the releasing injection. It went all very serene ... very quick ... it was as if she fell asleep. 

It was a riddance for her.

Pipke died on my breast at exact 9.10 AM local time.

Since that very last moment, our world became so empty ... we miss her so much! 
Only ... just looking out into the garden makes us cry ... it's as if our world has stopped ... even my hubby's garden house stayed closed. His easy chair stays no longer on the lawn in the afternoon, there's no longer someone waiting for him to take a nap. 
We even walked in the garden no more... it's too hard to bear.

Those last three weeks we shed more tears than we ever shed in our whole life before.

Our little sunshine is no longer here... but she will always stay in our heart and in our thoughts

Since that last time ... together ... sitting on the garden bench ... that ice cream car tune* is always spinning around in my head, it's always present.

From the one hand: I would like it to go away, but on the other hand ... I want it to stay forever ... because it was such a deeply sad, but also such an extreme intense life experience.

She was the best that could ever happen to us.

Life can be so cruel when you lose what's the most precious to you, and for me, it was and will be for ever: 

Pipke

We will never forget her.

She was such a brave fighter.

Sleep soft my little one!

PIPKE

May 25, 1995 -- September 14, 2009

The same day Pipke became cremated. I shall write about it in an other post.

PS: * Tune of the Ice cream car: always repeating the 22 first notes of the Radetzky march by Johann Strauss in an electronic version.