Shea the boston terrier was a fan of Arsenal and the New York Mets and the best friend anyone could ask for
It’s been almost three weeks since I was faced with the reality that my beloved companion Shea was dying and the only humane choice was to put her to sleep. It will forever be one of the most agonizing and painful experiences of my life. Shea had been battling cancer for about five months and had already gone through four rounds of chemotherapy. She seemed to be doing well and acted as if she hadn’t had any treatment at all. I had read all about the type of cancer that Shea had and how deadly it was, but I tried to look at the positive results which explained that dogs could live an additional 12-24 months after diagnosis. So, when I first got the news and fell apart, I decided to think positively and look at it as if Shea was LIVING with cancer rather than dying of cancer. Unfortunately, my deceptive positive thinking didn’t pan out.
Shea used to jump up on my bed and couch with no problem. In recent months, she needed help to get up on the bed. I would pick her up and lift her up to the bed. She was still able to jump onto the couch.
I did start to see subtle changes, but tried to convince myself that they were nothing. She seemed to have trouble pooping, she didn’t like to go for walks anymore and she appeared to be much more lethargic. When she stopped taking some of the treats that she regularly loved, I had to accept the fact that something was wrong.
My wonderful neighbors would help me out with Shea when I was out of town or at work. I received a call on Tuesday, May 3rd late in the afternoon at work and was told that Shea had collapsed while out for a walk. In fact, a total stranger gave my neighbor and Shea a ride back to our building. I left work immediately to see what was going on. It was obvious that Shea had taken a turn for the worse. She got up to greet me, but collapsed along the way. It killed me to admit it, but I knew that we had to take Shea to the Emergency Department at the Animal Medical Center. One of the workers in my building, George, held her in his arms as we loaded Shea into my neighbor’s car for the short ride to AMC. Upon our arrival, an attendant at the hospital carried Shea inside and we went up to the Emergency Room on the second floor.
I was a complete mess. I couldn’t stop crying and was pretty much in a state of shock. They took Shea into an examination room while myself and my neighbor Marcia waited in the waiting room. It was agonizing. Eventually, we were called in to a room where a doctor told us just how sick Shea was and that her cancer had spread to the point that there was nothing more that could be done for her. He was a very kind doctor, but told us that Shea was very sick and very tired. When I asked about putting her to sleep, he sadly told me that that would be the most humane thing to do. I couldn’t believe the reality that I was facing. Of course, I had to do what was best for Shea, but to say it sucked would be an understatement. I couldn’t and still can’t imagine what my life would be like without my best friend. I held her in my arms, gave her some kisses and they administered the drugs to peacefully put her to sleep. She literally died in my arms and I still can’t get that image out of my mind. It’s the worst thing that I have ever experienced in my life.
I have been crying, numb and in denial ever since that moment. I feel guilty, sad, angry and many other emotions all mixed together. I seriously couldn’t and still can’t imagine a life without my Shea.
My apartment seems empty without her and everything here reminds me of her. I literally find myself unable to breathe at times. I just feel so alone and as if a part of me is missing.
Shea was the one being that I could count on through thick and thin. If I had a bad day at work or was treated badly by someone, when I opened that door and Shea saw me, I was met with excitement, love and joy. I’ve never experienced that from any other living thing.
Shea was truly my best friend. We did everything together. She constantly made me laugh and had a wonderful disposition. She was totally chilled out. She barely barked, she wouldn’t run away if off the leash and she loved to play. Of course, as she got older she spent more time on the benches at the dog park rather than playing with the other dogs, but she would mingle and enjoy checking out the scene.
I had always wanted a dog as a kid, but my requests for a dog went unanswered and my love for animals had to take place in other people’s homes.
My first dog came to me by accident. Sorcha was a five-year-old Boston Terrier whose owners were moving to Ireland and couldn’t go with them due to quarantine rules. I said I would watch her and in the end, she never left. I had her for five more years and when she passed at the age of ten I experienced the pain of loss like I never had before. To say I was distraught at the loss of Sorcha would be an understatement. I truly thought that I would have to be hospitalized as my pain was so strong and I could barely function without crying.
While not ideal timing, a friend of mine saw my grief and without me knowing it sought out a breeder for me that had puppies ready for adoption.
Two weeks after Sorcha had passed, on June 26th, 2011 my friend drove me up to Dutchess County and that’s where I met the best friend I’ve ever had in my life. All I can remember about this place is that there were dogs everywhere. Most of them were Frenchies and the place was a bit strange.
There were two Boston Terrier puppies enclosed in a little plastic fence. One of them caught my eye and then proceeded to pee on the pavement. That was it, I knew that this adorable puppy was meant for me.
Being a huge New York Mets fan and wanting a name that began with an S (in memory of Sorcha) Shea was a no-brainer. (For those that don’t know, the Mets’ original home was Shea Stadium).
Shea was the coolest.
I had never had a puppy before. I tried crate training, but I gave in right away and just let her be. I was so lucky that she was so cool and easy as I let her have the run of the place.
When she was young, we would go to puppy playgroups at Biscuits and Bath as well as Boston Terrier meetups at different locations throughout New York.
She had so many friends, play dates, and sleepovers. She loved going to the dog park and running through the leaves off the leash in the fall.
Shea even received cards from her Boston Terrier friends on Instagram.
Shea loved posing in front of flowers and trees, or at least she put up with me making her do so.
Shea enjoyed going on trips and drove with me from New York to Charleston and down to Cape May during the pandemic.
Shea shared a birthday with her best friend Lexie. They were both born on April 10, 2011 and lived in the same building.
Shea also had a boyfriend in our building named Gavin. They would often have chaperoned overnight visits when Gavin’s family would go away.
Sorcha had been ball obsessed. Shea could care less about chasing balls but LOVED squeaky toys and pulling the stuffing out of them. She also enjoyed a good bully stick.
Shea was cultured and would wait online in Central Park for free tickets to Shakespeare in the Park. Unfortunately, she wasn’t allowed to attend.
One of Shea’s favorite things to do was lay in the warm laundry once it came out of the dryer.
I used to call Shea Miss Daisy as she hated the rain, water, wearing coats and cold weather. It was a struggle to get her out for a walk when the weather conditions were not up to her standard.
Shea lived along the New York Marathon route on First Avenue and loved to cheer on the runners every year.
I learned early on that I had to make sure that the garbage was secured as there were many times that I would come home to find garbage strewn all over the apartment as Shea had gone looking for goodies among the trash.
Of course, Shea was always looking for snacks and treats and enjoyed dining al fresco.
I was lucky as Shea was not a barker. She did, however, make the funniest noises when she wanted to get my attention. It was as if she was talking to me.
Shea was a true “blue state” dog. She despised Donald Trump and had no problem making her feelings known.
While the pandemic was horrible, one of the benefits was getting to spend so much time with Shea as my work had shut down for 15 months. She truly got me through the COVID crisis.
Shea also believed in social issues and participated in several area Black Lives Matter protests.
She loved the Mets and Arsenal. She would watch me scream and yell at the TV when losing and cheer when we were winning. While I'm not sure if she was as into the games as I was, (I'd like to believe that she was a hardcore Arsenal and NY Mets supporter) Shea watched many, many Arsenal matches and sat through tons of New York Mets games. Being the cute dog that she was, I subjected her to many humiliating photos of her in Arsenal gear and posing with Mets paraphernalia and a Mr. Met stuffed toy. When Arsenal would score and I would go nuts, she would look at me with that puzzled look as if to say, "You are insane". On the other hand, when the Mets would blow a game and I'd be cursing at the TV, Shea would just come over and demand to play. She was a definite calming influence and always brought me back down to reality.
Losing Shea has made me realize the importance of true love as opposed to the love of a fan. I am a huge fan of both Arsenal and the New York Mets. Both of the teams that I support have given me plenty of joy and heartache over the years.
Arsenal just blew the chance to finish in a position that would have benefited the team greatly next season. I was bummed big time when they failed to achieve their goal. Normally I would brood over it and it would ruin my mood.
Of course the Mets have failed me so many times over the years that their failures would feel like torture.
Losing Shea has made me realize that the relationship I have with the teams that I follow is completely one sided. While I might profess to "love" my teams, Arsenal and the Mets are not reaching back to me with gifts and tokens of affection. While I root for Pete Alonso to hit home runs, he isn't worrying about my day to day. Likewise, my admiration for Arsenal runs deep. However, the Arsenal team is totally unaware of my everyday life and the problems with which I am faced. So while I support my teams and stick with them through thick and thin, I realize that love is a bit of a misguided word to express my connection to them. I am a fan; they offer me a diversion and enjoyment and perhaps a sense of belonging.
Shea’s loss makes these sports failures seem totally inconsequential and irrelevant. Shea was my best friend and greatest companion. She gave me the greatest gift anyone can ever receive, unconditional love. No matter what the day would bring or if I came home feeling as if the world had beaten me up, there was Shea rushing to greet me, kiss me, and jumping around with crazy excitement at my arrival. The love and companionship that I got from Shea were the greatest gifts I have ever received. Her passing has left me devastated, lost, and completely broken-hearted.
I am having difficulty coming to grips with the loss of Shea. However, the memories that I have of the time that I spent with her and the unconditional love that she gave to me are comforting me at this time of sorrow.
I will always remember you Shea and love you forever. I know that you are in doggy heaven cheering on Arsenal and the New York Mets and being the cool dog that you are.
