TheBanyanTree: Your dog died today.

[Kitty Park]

Aw, geez.  Your writing always grabs me, sidda, so once I started reading
and knew where it would end, I couldn't stop.

So now I have to dress for a meeting and my face is blotchy and my eyes,
red.  But it was such a beautiful story, I'll explain to anyone who asks
that I don't have a cold, just the visible reminder of the tears I cried
when I read your touching animal story.

Kitty
<mzzkitty at gmail.com>kcp-parkplace.blogspot.com
<http://parkplaceohio.com>




On Wed, Apr 25, 2012 at 12:17 AM, TLW <tlwagener at gmail.com> wrote:

> I thought you might want to know. I understand you put her on the street
> around September, October? She was ancient and deaf, with infected teeth
> and weakening hind quarters. She was a Labradoodle, though, so you probably
> paid a good sum for her 15+ years ago. Maybe you loved her too much to put
> her down. So you put her out.
>
>
> I don't know you, and I try not to judge. Maybe you were overwhelmed, with
> six kids or something. Maybe you are ill, yourself. Maybe you've lost your
> home and your job and didn't have the money to put her down. I don't know.
> I only know this sick old designer dog was found on the streets with no
> collar or chip. And she'd been on the streets quite a while. She looked
> like Chewbacca.
>
>
> Here's the thing. My 12-year-old Lab mix died in November. He went downhill
> very quickly (renal failure), and after a couple of expensive days at the
> vet's, I helped him out of this earthly plane. He was so loved, he had
> human friends who left work to come hug and kiss him and give him
> scritches. I was devastated, of course. As I told people at the time, it
> was a terrible day, followed by a difficult week, followed by a lifetime of
> memories. And then I had a lot of old-dog supplements left over. I thought
> my Jasper (which means "bringer of treasure," and he did) would like me to
> help another old dog, if I could, so I went down to the shelter. And I
> found... yours.
>
>
> The shelter didn't even want to release her to me, which I can understand.
> There were so many other dogs there, all younger and healthier. I have her
> cage card with "Pls PTS poor dog" on it. (PTS being Put To Sleep.) She was
> at least fifteen pounds underweight and seemed either blind or deaf or
> both, and she didn't wag her tail once.
>
>
> I am no hero. I was ambivalent about springing her, myself. Anyone would
> have been. But I have had some tough times in my life, and been very
> depressed and underweight and looked matted and broken, myself. And no
> family pet deserves to die emaciated and alone. A couple of animal rescue
> groups got a hold of me and offered a discount grooming and teeth cleaning,
> if I would just give her a home. Those people can be very convincing and
> also somewhat scary. If they ever join the Taliban, we'll all be in really
> big trouble. I wasn't exactly up for a project, but I was so tired of
> feeling alone every day. And my dad is old and broken now. So I brought
> your dog home. After she was shaved, she weighed 39 pounds. She was all
> ribs and age spots. I thought she might last a week.
>
>
> That was four and a half months ago. She had a couple of tooth extractions,
> again thanks to those Taliban types, and then she could eat again. Both ear
> infections cleared up with with a round of antibiotics, but she never
> regained her hearing. I wish I'd gotten her some of the rubber-grip booties
> they have for old dogs, since my wood floors could be a challenge for her,
> but I didn't know about those until today. She would find herself sprawled
> out on the floor, like Bambi on the ice, a couple of times a week. Falling
> didn't seem to faze her, though. She was a great role model that way.
>
>
> She didn't even make eye contact with me for the first couple of months,
> but then she sought me out every minute, and was never not in the same room
> as I was. Not even when I tried to sneak to the bathroom when she was
> asleep. She'd always sense my absence, and come find me.
>
>
> I named her Freya, after the Norse goddess of love, beauty, gold,
> fertility, war, and magic. I thought she deserved just about everything,
> after what she'd been through.
>
>
> She was a beautiful, beautiful dog. She was sweet and so gentle with the
> kids in the neighborhood. She loved her food and our walks and my bed. She
> would slowly bunny hop up the steps I made for her and stagger across the
> comforter and sink in a happy heap. She slept most of the time, of course.
> Ate and slept. But she'd shoot after a cat in an instant. And she'd perk
> right up when I came home and lay a gentle hand on her to let her know I
> was back. We'd go outside and she'd spin in happy circles. It made me laugh
> and laugh.
>
>
> I know you loved her. Imagine my surprise when I discovered she'd been
> taught to shake hands for a treat. With both paws. That must have taken you
> quite a while, that training.
>
>
> Anyway. Freya panted a lot the past few days. It was hot, but not *that*
> hot, especially at night. Then, today, she couldn't get up without help. Or
> poop. It was pretty clear that her body was done. I looked into her eyes,
> and she gave me permission. "Thank you for saving my dignity," she said.
> "Now I am tired and done."
>
>
> I am happy to report that I had trouble loading her into the car by myself.
> When I first brought her home, it was a cinch. But then she gained about a
> pound a week after coming here. And she still looked a little thin, to some
> people. She helped me at the vet's place. She walked in, then collapsed on
> the waiting room floor.
>
>
> It's not hard, at all, the euthanasia. Having put down two dogs in six
> months, I can tell you. The event itself is painless, and I wish with all
> my heart that it was available to humans. I say this as someone with a
> 86-year-old stroke victim father strapped to wheelchair in a nursing home
> 2000 miles away. But I know it's a slippery legal slope. Still, I'm here to
> tell you that the event itself is actually pretty wonderful. To put someone
> you love who will never get better out of pain is a great gift and a
> blessing. Freya's last breath seemed to me a final sigh of relief. She had
> my hand on her shoulder and my lips to her nose. I cried, of course. We
> always cry. But I felt a great weight lift, when I saw her, so peaceful and
> beautiful there. I trimmed some of her hair to keep. Those wonderfully soft
> tight curls on her chest. I'm sure you remember the ones that I mean.
>
>
> Anyway. I just thought you might want to know. Your dog died today.
>