Losing Olympia – When a Dog’s Grief is More than Your Love

Three yrs ago today, Sept. 13, I unexpectedly lost my 12 year old German Shepherd, Olympia, to sepsis.

Backtrack in time ————-

Fifteen yrs ago, I and my six-month old German Shepherd, Czarina, drove from Chicago’s western suburbs to Michigan to pick up the little tyke, Olympia, from the breeder. On the way home, I drove with the windows closed since she wailed so loudly in her crate, I thought someone might report me to the ASPCA for animal cruelty.

I pulled over at a rest stop, took her out of her crate, and she nestled into Czarina. Both slept the rest of the way home. It was then that an irreplaceable bond was born between the two sisters. My empress, “Czarina” and my goddess, “Olympia. Over the 12 yrs I had them both, Olympia was the sweet-tempered diva, and her attachment to Czarina grew stronger and deeper.

At the groomer, she would wail if Czarina was out of her sight. While on a business trip, I boarded both girls with their trainer. Czarina had just left the hospital, so she was put in the “puppy” room where she could have peace and quiet. Pia was kept with the trainer’s other shepherds. Pia didn’t eat for two days until the trainer moved her into the same room as her sister.

In July 2020, I lost Czarina to age-related mobility and incontinence issues caused by inoperable IVDD. But, I still had my beautiful Pia. Little did I know.

Not much is written about the grief that animals go through when they lose their beloved friend. But their grief is real and it is deep. I was about to find out.

In early September, I noticed that Olympia kept licking her right hind leg. I thought, ‘here we go again, another spinal surgery’. I looked closer and found an open wound. It was Covid time, so I sent photos to the vet, picked up the prescribed antibiotics.

One week later, I sent photos to the ER vet who looked after all my pups for ~20 yrs. “GET IN HERE NOW!”

Ran Pia to the ER, and waited in the car. Phone rang, and I heard the words, “I can’t save her.” Pia had chewed a hole in her hind leg that went through the muscle down to the bone.

I walked into the clinic and I stayed w/Pia holding her from her prep work until the last voice she heard was mine. The loss didn’t really register until I was outside again holding a collar and a leash, but no dog.

In hindsight, I’m convinced Pia took her own life. Despite me, and 3 other pups in the house, she couldn’t, didn’t want to, go on w/o her beloved sister.

As I like to say, there were inseparable on earth, and now they’re inseparable in heaven.