Struggling with grief due to big life changes

I lost my dog of seven years very suddenly on Saturday. He had a mass on his spleen that ruptured, and by the time we made it to the emergency vet, he wasn’t stable enough to likely survive surgery. I am devastated.

I got him when I was 22, off Craigslist (I know, I know) because I was broke and needed a hypoallergenic dog so I could move in with this guy I was seeing (now my husband). It was obviously a puppy mill situation (the woman was later arrested) and he was already a year old, so had been through hell. But the moment I laid eyes on him, he was mine, and I loved him so, so much. He was very skittish and fearful in most situations, but was totally at home with me; followed me from room to room, seat to seat. He brought me so, so much joy, during such formative years of my life.

I had a (human) baby this winter, after a horrendous pregnancy where he provided a ton of emotional support. New babies make you tired and impatient. We still had some regular quality time and snuggles, but I’ve also shoved him off of me a bunch recently when he was just licking and licking and licking and been irritated at him barking and waking the baby. I totally lost it on him three weeks ago when he pooped inside twice and then dragged it around the house. I’m so ashamed, I can’t believe I didn’t think it could be something medical.

I noticed something was off about him earlier in the day, but he hates the vet and I’ve been trying to work on my own anxiety, so I didn’t want to make it a big thing. I did wrap him up in a blanket and snuggle him on the couch for a bit. Later, when he collapsed (after refusing cheese, which was honestly the big alarming sign to me), I rushed him to the vet, but there wasn’t anything they could do. One of the last things he did was lift his head to lick tears from my face.

I keep replaying all the missed opportunities to give him the love and attention he deserved over the last few weeks and months. All the times I was impatient with him, when he was just trying to do what he always did. I am just beside myself with grief. Did the pattern of care over the course of his life stick with him enough to know I loved him, even lately? Or did he die feeling maligned, apart from me?