I've had two days to think about this, and I'm still at a loss for words - a situation that made me, on the surface, consider not even writing this entry. However, when I took a step back from the keyboard, that's exactly why it needs to be written. No matter how clumsily, how lackluster, the fact that her loss can leave me in this condition deserves recognition.
I won't keep you in suspense - we had to put down my dog on Friday. It was a sudden thing - she was 13 and everything apparently gave out all at once. Within a span of a month she went from "elderly yet healthy" to having a list of medical problems so lengthy, there was no doubt in our minds what must be done. She lived a long and happy life, even a charmed one as far as dogs go. Never a surgery except getting fixed, and not even the hip displaysia that troubles many labs.
She wasn't always my dog - I met her when she was 3, and she's been "my girl" ever since. I would protect her from her crazy brother and his littermate....I was the reassuring voice and calming hand when she was getting her nails clipped...I was the one who could get her to eat or take treats when no one else could. I was the only one allowed to groom her - and for years until I discovered the shedding blade, it had to be done with my hair brush!
In return, she held onto her youthful ways with me as long as she physically could. She long ago quit sleeping at the head of the bed when her daddy was home, but when I'd stay over, she'd come up and join me like she did for much of her younger years - head on pillow, body parallel to mine. With him, the routine changed as she aged...with me, it was as though she tapped into a font of memory sprung forth from her youth. She would sit on the couch next to me until her legs would make the jump anymore, then I would join her on the blanket on the floor. She quit coming to see me because she couldn't keep her footing on my hardwood floors....so I went to see her, no matter how busy I got.
She knew on which side her bread was buttered - when her daddy and I were around, I was chopped tofu (because a dog would be all over chopped liver in a heartbeat!), but when she had settled down, there were always tail wags and kisses before she went to sleep. I may not butter the bread, but I'd slip her a nibble of it from time to time :) In fact, that's exactly what I did the night before she fell ill - fed her some of my French fries from dinner. The next morning she collapsed. It wasn't the food that did it - which was my first worry. So many things were wrong with her - internal bleeding that began that morning, tumors growing large enough to impact systems, heart problems, enlarged organs - that the vet said it was just a matter of time before it all started to give out.
Now, she's gone. In the grand scheme, she went in nearly the best way possible - sick for less than a day, resting peacefully in her own home. I've spent the greater part of the last two days looking at pictures and trying to remember the good times, of which there were plenty. I've smiled, I've laughed, and I've been very happy that she is in a better place. But I've also felt empty, knowing that the only companion left who loved me unconditionally...is gone. That with her death I was robbed of the one true and sure source of joy and smiles and kindness and care in my life. She never cared if I said the wrong thing or couldn't get that dance step just right or screwed up the project at work or any of the millions of pitfalls that dot modern society like potholes after a winter storm. I loved her. She knew it. She loved me back. Simple, eloquent, perfect. And now, no more.
I don't see myself getting another dog anytime soon - I know it wouldn't replace my girl, but even so, my schedule just won't allow it. Until it does, I'll have to hope the memories of my yellow girl will sustain me when I need to feel loved.
Rest in peace, my love. You gave me so much peace in the decade I knew you, I pray the same for your eternal rest.
I won't keep you in suspense - we had to put down my dog on Friday. It was a sudden thing - she was 13 and everything apparently gave out all at once. Within a span of a month she went from "elderly yet healthy" to having a list of medical problems so lengthy, there was no doubt in our minds what must be done. She lived a long and happy life, even a charmed one as far as dogs go. Never a surgery except getting fixed, and not even the hip displaysia that troubles many labs.
She wasn't always my dog - I met her when she was 3, and she's been "my girl" ever since. I would protect her from her crazy brother and his littermate....I was the reassuring voice and calming hand when she was getting her nails clipped...I was the one who could get her to eat or take treats when no one else could. I was the only one allowed to groom her - and for years until I discovered the shedding blade, it had to be done with my hair brush!
In return, she held onto her youthful ways with me as long as she physically could. She long ago quit sleeping at the head of the bed when her daddy was home, but when I'd stay over, she'd come up and join me like she did for much of her younger years - head on pillow, body parallel to mine. With him, the routine changed as she aged...with me, it was as though she tapped into a font of memory sprung forth from her youth. She would sit on the couch next to me until her legs would make the jump anymore, then I would join her on the blanket on the floor. She quit coming to see me because she couldn't keep her footing on my hardwood floors....so I went to see her, no matter how busy I got.
She knew on which side her bread was buttered - when her daddy and I were around, I was chopped tofu (because a dog would be all over chopped liver in a heartbeat!), but when she had settled down, there were always tail wags and kisses before she went to sleep. I may not butter the bread, but I'd slip her a nibble of it from time to time :) In fact, that's exactly what I did the night before she fell ill - fed her some of my French fries from dinner. The next morning she collapsed. It wasn't the food that did it - which was my first worry. So many things were wrong with her - internal bleeding that began that morning, tumors growing large enough to impact systems, heart problems, enlarged organs - that the vet said it was just a matter of time before it all started to give out.
Now, she's gone. In the grand scheme, she went in nearly the best way possible - sick for less than a day, resting peacefully in her own home. I've spent the greater part of the last two days looking at pictures and trying to remember the good times, of which there were plenty. I've smiled, I've laughed, and I've been very happy that she is in a better place. But I've also felt empty, knowing that the only companion left who loved me unconditionally...is gone. That with her death I was robbed of the one true and sure source of joy and smiles and kindness and care in my life. She never cared if I said the wrong thing or couldn't get that dance step just right or screwed up the project at work or any of the millions of pitfalls that dot modern society like potholes after a winter storm. I loved her. She knew it. She loved me back. Simple, eloquent, perfect. And now, no more.
I don't see myself getting another dog anytime soon - I know it wouldn't replace my girl, but even so, my schedule just won't allow it. Until it does, I'll have to hope the memories of my yellow girl will sustain me when I need to feel loved.
Rest in peace, my love. You gave me so much peace in the decade I knew you, I pray the same for your eternal rest.
Good-night, sweet princess,
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!
6 comments:
I bet she's resting peacefully in that great dog kennel in the sky, where there is an eternal supply of biscuits, and old age no longer hinders 'walkies'.
RIP.
There is never a replacement for a dog. The loss is felt nearly as hard as that of a close family member, because a dog is family. There is no love like that of a dog's, not even from a spouse. I miss every dog I ever had. My sincerest condolences.
I'm sorry...
I was touched ...
You don't know how close this hits to home. In '04 we had to put down Mrs. Farrago's boy, and I cried like he was my very own. And now, my girl is living out what I know to be her last days -- hell, she almost had to go a week ago, were it not for a few angry words to the missus about whose dog it is and whose decision it should be!
I've cried many a tear already, knowing I don't have too many more days with her, knowing that the decision truly is mine to make, and knowing that I'll soon have to make it.
One more summer, if she can hold out that long.
Thank you all for your kind words. It makes it a little better to know she's in a better place. Of course, that better place comes at considerable pain to us, but that's what true, unconditional love for a pet is - she would have done anything for me, including hang on. And I would have done anything for her.
Farrago, We were lucky in that we knew the end was coming and that she likely wouldn't see another Christmas. So we've been spoiling her for weeks...months really - ever since her brother passed. I knew that she lived for her daily walks and her people food (she never got people food till I started giving her Cheerios about 3 years ago. In the last 6 mos to a year, that became just about anything she wanted. After all, the vet said aside from one or two things, give her whatever she wanted since she was such an elder stateswoman). So I gave her both in abundance. She could only handle so much exercise, but we took the walks at her pace, when she wanted them. Mind you, I was no saint...there were times I so wanted to get going...but I tried my hardest to only be patient with her and be frustrated when she wasn't around. She deserved the best, and I tried to make sure she got what she wanted.
In our case, the decision was cut and dried. The hard part was the suddenness with which it came. Knowing you have limited time to spend is half the battle. Her brother went so unexpectedly I still feel robbed, to this day. With her, it's not easy, and I'm crying again as I type this, but at least I have no regrets. She shared my life, she shared my dinner, she shared my blanket and pillow.
The only reason I would do any of it over again would not be to change anything, but to have the pleasure of her company just one more time.
I'm sorry for your loss, Claire. I can only but imagine your sorrow. Once upon a time I used to have cats. Two of them died one rainy night after venturing into a heavy-duty electrical transformer. Another was bitten by a dog and died and the last one just got lost.
I enjoyed their company so much that I cannot possibly forget them ... but I've since vowed not to have any pets. I'm too fragile to handle such heartbreak.
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