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“RIP Kobe Matisse Rose. He was — and is — the very best part of me.” Jane Hamsher
The words none of us want to speak and breaks our hearts when we must.
I can’t say that I know how Jane feels, no matter how many times I’ve been through this. This is an uniquely personal experience, made even more traumatizing by its suddeness. I wish there were words that would take away the pain of the loss of a partner in unconditional love. I can only send Jane my love and my best wishes. And cry with her.
RIP Kobe Matisse Rose.
“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
39 Comments
Awww Kobe. I didn’t know he was even sick. God Bless Kobe and Jane. And all those who have gone before Kobe, waiting for us patiently at the Rainbow Bridge.
I will bookmark Rainbow Bridge, SD. Thanks. ( tears running down face)
Dear Jane,
I’m so sorry to hear about Kobe. The grief one feels is just awful. Please know we send our love o sustain you.
Kathryn
Thanks, SouthernDragon, for setting aside a day to remember Kobe.
So sorry, Jane, Kobe will play happily until you come to get him at the Bridge.
Thanks SD.
RIP Kobe.
{{{{{Jane}}}}}
Oh, SD. I was thinking of you and the Rainbow Bridge this morning. I can’t read it right now, ’cause, you know I have tears.
I posted this http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8REAP-OHybI – Lux Aeterna at her diary…A Requiem for Kobe.
What a beautiful tribute.
For anyone who hasn’t seen it… http://seminal.firedoglake.com/diary/9944 – Jane’s Diary.
Thank you for the tribute. Don’t forget the endless supply of elusive squirrels running about over the rainbow bridge.
May you find peace Jane. You deserve it.
Thank you, SoDrag.
Words fail.
Tears fall.
{{{{Jane}}}}
A loss is a loss, no matter the species of the family member. Take care of yourself Jane. Do I remember correctly that he liked pumpkin bread? I’ll bake one in his memory.
Kobe was an exceptional pup – smarter than most 5th graders and loyal like a soldier. RIP Kobe. I know how much Jane loved you.
It’s a good day to appreciate all our living companions. Namaste, all.
Didn’t know until I read it here, SD. Thanks for informing us.
Jane, so sorry for your loss of such a special loved one and companion.
Yesterday a deer somehow got over the fence and wandered into our development. I was on the porch with Madison the feral, chatting about this and that, when the deer came dashing up the street as if persued by a pack of dogs and dashed himself against our side gate, then came staggering, a bit dazed onto the porch. Madison took one look and dashed away, didnt even finish his breakfast. He was back this morning.
Yesterday I took the little dogcat for a walk and he discovered a bear in a drain pipe on the hill behind our house. Wildlife! It’s everywhere!
♪♫ Jane… ♪♫
the soul gets cracked open a little more.
our fur babies allows us to experience unconditional pure love created and shared between two beings, that’s why it hurts so god damn much
Absolutely right. Really well said. Thanks, cbl2.
I don’t think I’ve ever heard the reason for the pain expressed so clearly.
Thank you.
Remembered loss rips through me every time I hear that someone else
has had to stand on this side of the bridge.
my deepest condolences to jane.
Thanks for this post, SouthernDragon. FDL’s blogmistress is obviously suffering greatly:
http://twitter.com/janehamsher
In the long annals of Man and Dog, I have a feeling that the Jane and Kobe bond was something truly extraordinary, and rarely seen. Kobe was undoubtedly one key source of the tower of personal strength that I consider Jane to be.
With Jane’s special, even mystical, relationship with Kobe ruthlessly severed, it is heartbreaking to know that someone who’s done so much for others, and bravely persevered through her own personal health trials, is now suffering a soul ache that none of us can do anything to alleviate.
Oh my, powwow, how well you captured this. Tears again.
The frustration of that feeling of total helplessness is almost unbearable at times.
I left a comment yesterday on Jane’s seminal diary, but I’ll add here.
I am so sorry, Jane. Anyone who’s lost a dear animal friend will understand the deep grief. Tears, but more.
And, perhaps an odd thing to say, but poor Lucie and Katy, the other two pups. Animals do grieve too, for the loss of a friend and companion. I’m probably not saying this very well, but I hope some of you know what I mean, if you’ve seen it.
I understand. I’ve seen it more times than I’d like to remember.
My two dogs are like Siamese twins – completely inseparable never more than a few feet separates them. They are Belle and Bo and they now share one name – BelliBo.
Thanks so much SD for the lovely dream of seeing Kobe again. And to everyone for their kind thoughts.
Pow Wow you are right — Kobe was my strength. He was my inspiration and his heart guided the best of everything I did. He was a truly compassionate soul who was always sensitive to the needs of others, devoted and loyal, and wouldn’t flinch from a fierce fight with another dog many times his size if he felt he was protecting those he cared about.
He was very very funny (and also very vain). Watching him in pain, struggling in the ICU, was heart wrenching and I just keep running the past few days in my head over and over again, wondering what I could’ve done differently and how I could’ve saved him.
Egregious was with me at the hospital after he died. We gave him a memorial service in the back of his station wagon before we delivered him to be cremated. We had lavender roses because he was a king, and candles and gingerbread (in lieu of pumpkin loaf). We collected many of the lovely tributes people sent online and we read them during the service. It was beautiful and I can’t thank everyone enough for their love and support during this time.
He wouldn’t want us to be suffering from his loss but it is so hard. I took some of his fur in a plastic bag, and when I opened it today the girls came running and stuck their snouts in it, looking frantically for him. Little moments like this will keep happening and when they do it’s impossible not to grieve.
(((Jane)))
Jane, stay strong. So many love you, but you loved Kobe and he loved you in the way you alone know. It burns.
I don’t know if he was fine until he was not fine, and then it was done. One thing I will say is that he did not have the long goodbye that would have had you sick and worried over him for days or months, as you would have been. That is a hard road too. If it was just sudden, then he was Kobe full on to the very end. Maybe that was his way. He knew you had important work to do, and he left you without compromise to do it. That is Love.
I learned this from Serene, a cat I lost a few months ago. I would have been obsessing over her health if I knew she was sick, but she did not go that way, there was no time for that. She was Serene and then gone.
Thank you for that. Weirdly one of the best things that happened to us was when we got the diagnosis that his lump wasn’t cancerous. We got to feel like there was nothing wrong for a few weeks more and just enjoy the time.
He was so kind in the end. When they called me at 4:30 am to tell me he was in bad shape I was staying in a nearby hotel and raced over. He gave me that look — “It’s time, Mom, I’m ready” — and I didn’t want to believe it. And then he rallied for 3 hours. It was for me. I know it took everything he had but I got to spend 3 good hours with him before his little heart finally gave out.
Oh I miss him so. His kindness and his generosity knew no limit, even in the end. What a gracious spirit.
Little moments like this will keep happening and when they do it’s impossible not to grieve.
That is true, Jane. Years after my own big fella died I found myself
walking down an aisle in Costco – saw bags of dog food – and lost it.
There will always be such moments. The loss is deep within us…sleeping.
Yep. Friday was the second anniversary of losing Missy, my 22 1/2 year old. It’s been a rough weekend.
It was, wasn’t it? Reading Jane’s twitter about missing him so much that it was hard to breathe brought me right back to the several times in my life that I’ve been completely stunned and shaken by a deep loss. I could feel that weight on my chest and the difficulty in breathing. Last night, I dreamed of my dad. As in the Rainbow Bridge account, he was restored to a younger vitality. He was telling me that everything’s alright.
Again I say, Love is the strongest force in the universe and the love that Kobe and Jane share will endure forever. It’s just especially painful and difficult right now. And, that anxiety, unfortunately, will pop up again.
Thanks again, SD, for this opportunity to commune.
was just listening to some old cowboy singin’ about this as I read your comment
Have you been half asleep
And have you heard voices ?
Beaucoup d’amour pour Jane. Repose en paix, Kobe.
((( Jane )))
I know.
Oh, cbl, ya got me tearing again.
I’ve heard it too many times to ignore it…
Must have watched The Muppet Movie a thousand times when the kids were growing up. They never could understand why I always teared up at that song.
You are amazing, dear. You have a great heart and a talent for finding the right song. Or, could it be syncronicity?
Some old cowboy. What a guy!
SD, I thought you might make this Caturday about Kobe and Jane.
I’ve been sad all weekend, even though I never met Kobe (or Jane, come to think of it) in person. But over the years, Jane has so well conveyed the mutual love she and Kobe shared.
I thought the Rainbow Bridge was sappy and sentimental when I first read it-but having lost several dear furry people since, I take comfort in it, too, now. Our hearts truly do hurt for them, and we don’t forget any of them.
I just felt the need to add that the more Jane speaks of Kobe, the more remarkable he seems. I can’t say that I’ve ever known a dog that qualified as funny or vain (proud – in the sense of not liking to be laughed at – yes, but not vain). Those and other noted Kobe characteristics also speak of great intelligence, which is probably more uncommon than common in the average beloved pet. All in all, Kobe sounds like the kind of dog it would’ve been a privilege to know, and that Jane made the very most of the gift that was Kobe.
As for reliving the final days and steps searching for a preventable cause of the crisis, I can certainly relate to that routine. I think it’s actually an important and valuable part of the process our brain uses to learn from our mistakes and to catch errors we didn’t notice in the ‘heat of battle.’ Yet even as an inveterate second-guesser, I can’t say I see anything in what Jane has related that one could say warranted another or better approach to Kobe’s treatment.
From what we’ve been told, it sounds like the main decision that needed making was between Kobe living with a massive, benign tumor encroaching on his vital carotid artery (with the attendant risks and/or pain of that), or risking what would seem to be a fairly routine surgery to remove the mass, once discovered. Kobe indeed survived the surgery, yet the sudden onset of the pneumonia would seem to indicate that his immune system was no longer robust, and apparently there were also significant concerns about the condition of his heart. Yet if he’d been home when the pneumonia set in, the second-guessing would have been that an ICU might have saved him. And if the surgery never happened, and the tumor caused some sort of sudden attack at home, the second-guessing would be that the surgery might have saved him.
Jane went forward, doubtless taking the vet’s and others’ opinions into careful consideration, and optimistically employed every precaution she thought best and most promising for Kobe. Given the wrenching, dreadful outcome, it’s only natural to wonder if there was reason to be more cautious or pessimistic about the surgery. But I think it may be that the surgery and its aftermath simply exposed that Kobe was in weaker physical condition than anyone perhaps realized, and that even knowing that fact in advance likely wouldn’t have changed the decision or the ultimate outcome to any predictable degree.
A one-in-a-million dog was Kobe. May his gracious spirit rest in peace.
I wasn’t aware of anybody second guessing Jane’s decisions. I certainly wouldn’t.