She was legendary.

The love of my life.

On Monday January 6, 2025, I said goodbye to my sweet Matilda Sloan Benson.

We were so lucky to have her for 15.5 years- nearly the length of Dustin and my marriage. For such a large part of my adulthood, Matilda was a constant companion, an ever-loyal, ever-loving sweetheart.

Getting a dog was one of the first things Dustin and I wanted to do when we got married, and we decided on a vizsla based on the recommendation of my friend Vicki, who had told us a lot about the breed: sweet, people loving, cuddly, but a great running companion, very smart, minimal grooming (a very clean breed, not much shedding) and trainable. Sounded perfect for us!

Of course, vizslas have a lot of energy, and need walks or runs daily. So they aren’t the breed for everyone, but it was the right breed for us. We have so many great memories of running with Matilda, camping with her- including a week in the Boundary Waters! She LOVED the BWCA; she was a doll in the canoe and perfect off lead during the portages (where we carry the canoe and backpacks over land.)

I used to have a whole feature on my blog where I used to post frequently about Matilda; in fact, I had a few “race recaps” from her perspective that I hold dear- like this one , this one this one! Snarky little Matilda. Or her Best and Worst Running Experiences post, or her Guide to Minneapolis!

She was an incredible running companion for many many years!

We used to have two cats- Garth and Reardon- and Matilda loved them both and just wanted to be their friend.

Here is a picture of her trying to snuggle with Garth:

Unfortunately both cats died in 2016.

It was an empty house- we were meant to be a multiple pet house! So when Matilda was about 9 years old, we started thinking about getting a second dog. We added Ruth to the family in May 2019; she is a very different dog than Matilda. Yes, same breed, and I love her wholeheartedly, of course. But where Matilda is fiercely loyal, sweet, and soulful, Ruth is a rascal. She makes up for her naughtiness with her snuggles and overall dufus behaviour, and I love her dearly for it, but there will never be another dog like Matilda.

Matilda was very tolerant of Ruth’s naughty puppy behavior in the early days. She let Ruth jump on top of her and bite at her neck, rarely correcting her. It did take her awhile to start to treat Ruth as a “friend” but I think their friendship was solidified in their big adventure when they moved to London together. They flew from Chicago to Amsterdam, and then were driven in a van from Amsterdam to London, where they were reunited with us (best day ever, what a relief!)

They always had each other in this new world of London and it always seemed like they found comfort in the other’s presence.

Matilda was always such a trooper- she didn’t seem stressed by the move or all the new experiences of living in London…

…riding the train

…swimming in saltwater!

…moving to and from multiple flats!

She just sort of rolled with the punches and trusted us to take care of her, while keeping us company and loving us for just existing.

She was the best good girl.

On New Year’s Day, 2025, Matilda had essentially stopped eating and she had terrible diarrhea. We had hoped it was just something temporary that she had eaten.

We had been to the RVC (Royal Vet College) recently regarding the large lump on her hip, as well as the lump on her lymph nodes. There were a lot of lumps and concerns, but the tests so far had been inconclusive, and without putting her under anesthesia, we really wouldn’t know what we were dealing with. But it seemed likely that it was cancer. At her age, anesthesia was very risky. We also knew that we wouldn’t put her through chemo or radiation at her age either so the results wouldn’t change much from a treatment plan, as we understood how terrible those things would be for a dog her age, and they very likely wouldn’t cure her.

After the visit to discuss her lumps, we were back again a few days later for this not-eating thing…multiple times in one week. We were given medication after the second appointment to help with nausea, and for a few hours, she was eating boiled chicken and we were feeling optimistic.

But then she stopped eating boiled chicken. Or anything. No treats. Nothing. She was getting so weak especially as she also wouldn’t drink any water. Poor thing was not in good shape and it was so hard to see.

We took her back to the RVC on Sunday, January 5. She stayed overnight and it seemed like maybe the fluids were helping as they said she ate some food and drank some water. But then there were no further improvements and she only got worse into the next day.

We went ahead with the ultrasound, which meant she would be lightly sedated, but not under anesthesia.

The results of the ultrasound weren’t good. The mass on her hip went really deep into her abdomen. It may or may not have been why she wasn’t eating, but her body was definitely working hard to fight all these other issues that it couldn’t fight the stomach issues. It seems like she was telling us that she couldn’t fight anymore and that this was the end.

Dustin took an uber that was dog-friendly to bring her home from the RVC on Monday afternoon. We had both been at the office and came home as neither of us could hold things together and wanted to spend as much time with her as we could before saying goodbye. Our local vet in Hampstead does home visits for euthanasia, so we scheduled that for Monday evening at 6 pm.

When Dustin brought her home on Monday afternoon, she was already sedated and very weak. She didn’t seem to recognize me that much. I kept smelling her head and kissing her and telling her I loved her. I just wanted to keep her as close as I could and just hold onto her.

The vet arrived with an assistant. Ruth was confused and kept barking at them at first. I assume she couldn’t understand why this person she knew (i.e. the vet) was in her home? And what was he doing by Matilda? Why were Dustin and I so sad…

She watched it all from the couch, coming to sniff Matilda a few times. I had read that it can be helpful to have your other pets present so they understand what happened, and that Matilda didn’t just “not come home.” Whether it helped or not, we’ll never really know, but I definitely know it helped us to say goodbye in our home. And hopefully it also helped Matilda to be in a familiar place surrounded by those who loved her.

Matilda did try to get up to say hello to the vet when he arrived, but didn’t have a lot of strength so she quickly laid back down.

This picture is from her last few hours with us.

The vet explained how the euthanasia process would work. They would give her a sedative first via a shot, then place an IV in her leg that would be used to give her the medication that would stop her heart.

They had trouble getting the IV into her front paw, so they moved to the back leg. They got the IV in place and did a flush to ensure it was in correctly. Shortly after, they administered the drug that would stop her heart.

Throughout the process, the vet and the assistant would step out of the room and give us time with her. They were so respectful and kind. I can’t imagine doing this as a job; they both showed so much empathy towards us and it meant a lot during this difficult process.

It felt like the drug was quick and soon the vet confirmed that her heart had stopped.

They had warned that us she may lose control of her bowels, so they put down a puppy pad just in case. Sharing this for others who might be approaching something similar, as it’s helpful to be aware.

They had also warned that sometimes when a heart stops, the brain tries to tell the body it doesn’t have oxygen, causing the dog to take a few deep breaths; it may appear as if it is struggling to breathe. Fortunately we didn’t experience this. She seemed to slip away quietly.

After they took her body away, Dustin and I just sat on the couch crying, looking at pictures of her, and crying more. It was a hard, hard night.

I know we were so incredibly lucky to have had her in our lives for nearly 16 years. That’s a very long life for a dog. I know that we loved her and she loved us in return. And as hard as it was, I know that this was the time to say goodbye.

But it doesn’t change the fact that I miss her every day- it feels like every moment of every day….everywhere I look, something reminds me of her. We haven’t put away her bowls or her sweaters or her leash. I am not ready.

Ruth seems a bit lost. She still went to her doggy daycare this week, and we have a dog walker that takes her to the Heath for two hours on the other days that we are in the office. She’s getting lot of socialization and stimulation and exercise. But she still seems a bit more anxious, a bit confused, a bit more snuggly and close with us.

I will want to get a second dog but we’re not going to rush into that.

I’m not sure how long it will take to break through this fog of grief; I don’t think it will be any time soon. Losing a beloved pet is truly a death in the family and the loss is so painful.

I’ll close this post with one of my favorite pictures of Matilda with my mom, another person who I miss dearly every day.

If there’s some sort of heaven, I know that my mom was there to greet Matilda with the biggest hug and a nice long walkie.