Late to this thread, but just wanted to chime in with warm healing thoughts for you and your broken heart. I lost my first Doberman at age 6 too, only 1 year ago (wow! it feels like yesterday...). She succumbed to a byproduct of her obsessive need to eat what wasn't food. She took my heart and blasted it into trillions of pieces when I lost her. I still find it completely bewildering that something I loved so intensely could leave me forever after only 6 years. I'm still furious about it, actually.
But her loss opened the door for another. An absolute DREAM of a dober-dude. He is such an unexpected gift and we adore him immensely. Very different from her. One day he too will destroy me and I am very aware that I treat every moment with him like we're on borrowed time. Even if I have him for 13 years, it will still be short change.
In those deepest moments of grief I sometimes wondered if it was worth it. They good years of love worth the agony of losing them. Distance from the moment will make that answer clear. It's worth it.
Hugs to you.
OMG, you had the same trouble I did. Zipper was actually 10 when she died - I got her when she was 4 years old. But same thing - she wanted to eat everything, no matter what it was. We have a woodstove, and I'd go out to do barn chores in the morning and come back to find she'd been in the kindling box and eaten some dried branches. Or at least parts of them. On more than one occasion I had to syringe some hydrogen peroxide down her and then take her outside and wait for whatever it was to come back up. She had one obstruction surgery before we got her, and one after, and then for the rest of her time with me, I spent 24 hours a day trying to make sure she didn't eat anything she shouldn't. Amazingly, it wasn't a blockage that finally did her in, but it was *something* wrong in her guts, so it probably stemmed from those two surgeries, or something she ate. I couldn't always get the "whatever" out of her mouth before she swallowed it, and if she saw I was coming after her, she'd run away. She was SO much trouble. I think she came to live with me to teach me the meaning of love and patience.
I'd love to have another Doberdude, too, to take my mind off all this, but it's not to be. Out of 5 dogs, she was my only girl, and she was sweet beyond belief, but like I said, trouble with a capital T.
Your girl died on the same day (August 3rd) as my first boy did, back in 1998. Twenty years, to the day. That was a terrible day, but lucky for me there was a gorgeously handsome rescue boy that needed a home, and I gave it to him, so I had another beauty to fill my days with laughing and happiness.
I'm getting better. I've managed to type this entire post without crying. I hope you're over your crying by now, too. I hate crying, it makes my eyes all sore and puffy and I feel icky and have a headache. Smiling is much nicer.