TheBanyanTree: well, then.

[LaLinda]

Halle-bop?  Or is that a song?

Paulie, if you were "dealing" with it well, I'd be worried about you.  
You /should/ grieve.  It's the right thing to do.

xox

Linda


> Of course you're not. It's so freakin' hard when they have to leave, and
> especially when we have to help them leave. Like we're pushing them out the
> door and we know they're ready, but we never are. And while this won't help
> at all right now, it does get better. It has to; we can't live with that
> much pain and emptiness for very long. So we adapt and the pain gets better.
>
> I said I'd never get another dog after the first one I lost. That didn't
> last long.
>
> It gets better.
>
> xoxo
>
> Monique
>
> On Sun, Feb 14, 2010 at 6:36 PM, paul<paul at remsset.com>  wrote:
>
>    
>> I got her when she was almost six weeks old.  Half German Shepard, half
>> Black Chow.  The chow shows as a few spots on her tongue and the way her
>> coat can rise.
>>
>> It was this time of year and a cold winter for here.  I forget the name
>> of the comet that winter, but it had a forked tail.  Puppy was small
>> enough to drop into a coat pocket, big enough to peek out.  Incredibly
>> cute.  Too cold to put that tiny thing outside when it's sleeting.  We
>> had snow that winter and she loved it.  I made her a place in the
>> laundry room and used a "kiddie gate" to shut her in. Don't want puppy
>> digestive by-products scattered about, right?  Turned off the lights and
>> went to bed.  Oh good grief!, the whining and crying and barking!  Ok,
>> yipping.  Suddenly, silence.  Good, she went to sleep!  No, she did not.
>> She chewed a hole through the plastic mesh of the kiddie gate and
>> escaped.  Went directly to the bedroom and let me know, too.  Quite a
>> trek for a critter half the size of a small weiner dog.  We repeated the
>> process.  She won again the next night after chewing another hole
>> (because I turned the gate upside down).  I found an old pair of
>> sweatpants that night and that was her bed from then on.
>>
>> Right next to me.  I reckon we had a bit of love at first sight going on.
>>
>> Didn't want a house dog.  Got one anyway.
>>
>> Hey, I have a couple of her puppy teeth in the china cabinet.
>>
>>
>> The arthritis has destroyed her knees plus a pretty nasty job on her
>> hips.  It has been interesting, in a sick sort of way, to watch her legs
>> deteriorate.  It started with falling up the stairs once in a while.
>> But hey, the wooden steps are sort of slick.  She managed.  Her hearing
>> went unless I yelled.  So we made up some sign language.
>>
>> The walking became harder.  You can tell when she doesn't feel good
>> because that Chow Tail isn't curled up over her back.  And wagging.
>>
>> We went to the Vet for meds.  Metacam.  Great stuff.  Then she
>> couldn't get down the stairs.  I gladly picked her up, 55+ pounds of Fur
>> Bag, and carried her out many times a day.  We went to another Vet and got
>> another med to use with the first med.  A potent mix.  She learned how to
>> get up the stairs by going sideways... one step at a time.  She learned that
>> she can't go on the dining room floor because the wood is too slick for her
>> back feet to manage.
>>
>> We learned how to wheelbarrow around while I hold her up with my hands
>> on her belly.
>>
>> All of the changes happened in steps... and the steps became closer and
>> closer.  Like going down a funnel is some sort of Alice in Wonderland
>> nightmare way.  And you know what is going to happen.
>>
>> Suddenly, one Friday morning, she's dragging herself across the living
>> room carpet, legs straight back.  I didn't see that myself and by that
>> afternoon she's trotting (sorta) around the back yard.  But the next
>> day, Saturday night, she was laying on her bed in the living room and
>> just staring at me.  Like, "do something".
>>
>> I upped her meds that night.  That helped some.
>>
>>
>> Wilma.  AKA:
>>   Wonder Dog.
>>   Queen of Dogs.
>>   Queen Bitch.
>>   Fur Bag.
>>   Fleabag.
>>   Damn Pest Waking Yer Ass Up In The Middle Of The Night Because She Has
>>   To Pee Or Just Go Bark At Shit Outside.
>>   Maker Of Farts In Her Sleep That Will Kill You In Your Sleep.
>>
>> A Dog of Many Names.  Mostly though, simply, Wilma or Puppy.
>>
>>
>> Tuesday the 26th was a beautiful day for January.  Sunny and almost 70.
>> We went for a ride in the car.  She likes going for rides.  The almost
>> mile to the mailbox works if there is mail in the mailbox.  No mail?
>> She will stay in the car until pulled out by her collar.  Anyway, we
>> went for a ride and we looked at horses and cows and goats and stuff.  I
>> took the back road for the scenery.  We went to the Vet for our
>> appointment.  They had some kind of crisis going on or maybe they were
>> just behind.  I didn't care.  No hurry.  I've got my Wilma, she has me,
>> right?
>>
>> Her tail curled up as the pain stopped.  While she went to sleep one
>> last time.
>>
>>
>> My heart is buried in the back yard with her.  Wilma no ka 'oi.
>>
>> My puppy....
>>
>>
>>
>> I'm not dealing with this very well.  At all.
>>
>>
>>      
>