We had a complete and unanticipated turn of events Thursday night, when our beloved dog Ellie became violently ill. She had not been herself since arriving Monday and ate some grass when we came ashore for a walk. We weren’t alarmed at the time because both dogs munch on grass in Marblehead from time to time, with no adverse consequences.
Monday night Ellie upchucked, and we were a little concerned. Since leaving via sailboat was not an option due to high wind, we monitored her closely. We ensured she was drinking water and doing her daily business. We fed her small meals of boiled chicken (stowed in the freezer) that she seemed to enjoy. Ellie appeared to be back on track holding her food down, taking short walks and drinking.
Ellie has been a happy companion on our summer cruises over the last 12 years. She loves the water, “superman-ning” off the 5 ft freeboard into the bay to swim. She is almost too comfortable on the boat. I remember once pulling up to a mooring off Misery Island, Salem Sound, and looking over my shoulder at little Ellie swimming to reach families playing. Through the years we have encountered 100s of boats with either dogs or young children aboard, some blue water cruising. Having dogs on board was normal for us. Even though Ellie was on the older side, we had no reservations about taking her and Jaxen on this trip, primarily due to her comfort level on the boat.
Unfortunately, Ellie took a horrifying turn Thursday night and was gone within a few hours, just after midnight on the day of the summer solstice. We held and nursed her as best we could and worked at making her as comfortable as possible. When it was clear she wasn’t going to make it through the night we wrapped Ellie in a blanket and softly caressed her. In the end there was nothing we could do. She appeared to die peacefully at the foot of our bed in the forward cabin.
Neither of us slept Thursday night, the winds died, and we prepared to leave shore as the sun rose. In a state of shock, I motored Jax to shore for his morning business while Scott readied the boat. With the long calm ride to Newport, we both cried as the gravity of our loss settled in.
Five years of planning for an extended coastal cruise and five days into it your family pet dies onboard. Second guessing and the what if’s? is clearly in the back of our heads. It’s a slippery slope. It was freakish how quickly she went down. Was there something underlying that we didn’t know? Was there something toxic on the grass? Should we have left her home with our daughters’? Was it the Bananas? Was it a bad omen? We heard from my sister’s vet, that it was unlikely anything could have been done to save her, even if we could have gotten her to a hospital.
Scott was able to plan arrangements for Ellie’s remains at a local animal hospital. Her ashes will be sent to our daughter’s. We will plan a gathering to spread her ashes in the sea later.
She was undoubtedly the most adored dog we ever owned. She elevated our family memories over the last 12 years, was a steady companion when my parents passed away, Ellie filled us with endless laughter. We are heartbroken and grateful to have had the pleasure of Ellie in our lives.
We will be on a mooring in Newport for the next few days, in a safe place where we can rest and process this turn of events. It’s a reminder that life is full of the greatest joys and the greatest sorrows. In this moment these emotions were intermingled at the same time and space. Our family and friends have held us from afar, uplifted our spirits with support while filling us with their anecdotes of Ellie memories. For that we are eternally grateful.
As 59 North Sailing would say HOLD FAST.
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