It’s no secret that I’ve been called a crazy dog lady for quite a few years. I got my first dog, Lady, back in 2001. Brie followed in 2002, and Cooper joined the two of them in 2004. I didn’t think having three dogs was all that weird. After all, having two isn’t much more work than having one. And three...well...three was a bit of a stretch. But living in Rochester with a fenced yard made it relatively easy for me to manage them. Doing the traveling gig with three dogs has presented its challenges. Simon and I have traveled to some pretty neat places with some options for some pretty fantastic day trips, but the dogs have always stifled us a little bit. We could either board them somewhere or just not go...too frequently the option of bringing them along just wasn’t there. There are a lot of dog-unfriendly places in this country...understandably so, but still. More often than not, we elected not to go, since boarding three dogs is pretty expensive, and that adds up quickly. Not that I minded too much...I knew when I was getting my dogs that I was in this for the long haul, and that I wasn’t going to depend on other people to take of them too often. Every now and then was all right, but I know them better than anyone else on this planet, and so of course I’m under the assumption that I can take care of them better than anyone else. So, logically, I should probably be the one taking care of them.
This past January I had to put my oldest dog, Lady, to sleep. I had had her for almost 13 years, and she was almost 16 years old at the time of her passing. She was a good dog and a good friend. Even though I had known for some time that she was declining and that the end was near, it was still really hard to say goodbye to her. There really was nothing that could have prepared me for that. Her end was peaceful, quiet, and she was with Simon and I, her two most favorite people (in that order...Simon was her favorite...haha!). So that was that and I thought maybe I would have a reprieve from dealing with that sort of thing for a while.
I fear that too soon it’ll be little Brie’s turn, and it just breaks my heart. In the last few months she’s gone from a mostly agile little pup who could jump up on the couch with no troubles, to a rickety old thing who has difficulty holding a squat to go to the bathroom. Her hindquarters have significantly weakened, and what little hearing and vision she had is mostly gone. I distinctly remember years ago watching an elderly pug trying to take a poop at my apartment complex, and the poor thing was so atrophied in the hind end that it tipped right over onto its own turds. I remember wondering to myself why the owner didn’t do the humane thing and put the old bugger to rest. Brie tipped over while pooping today. And suddenly here we are...at that same spot I was 5 years ago, only now it’s me and my old bugger. Funny how life comes full circle like that.
I told myself when I started to notice Brie’s decline that there was no way I could put 2 dogs down in one year. Of course, we tell ourselves all kinds of things to make us feel better when we’re getting a particularly harsh dose of reality. And I’m not one of those people just raring to run to the vet to put my dog down so I can be relieved of the burden of caring for an elderly dog (and it is a burden, but it’s one I choose to bear because she’s my pup and I love her to pieces). But I refuse to let my animals suffer. They would lay down their lives for me, they give everything they have just to be with me...the least I can do is give them a comfortable exit from this world. But I don’t think that we’re quite there yet. She still plays and tries to run around, still loves to snuggle and cuddle, and her appetite hasn’t been affected in the slightest by all of this...she’s still a little porker. She doesn’t appear to be in pain, but I have a sneaking suspicion that she must be. If she can’t run and jump and squat normally, then she’s got to be uncomfortable, at the very least. I know that being mostly blind and deaf is stressful for her...she’ll wander from room to room looking for me, and if I’m not moving around or making noise, she’ll walk right by me, not even realizing that I’m there. When there are multiple people in one room, she’ll wander from person to person sniffing each person’s leg until she comes to the person she’s looking for. 9 times out of 10, that person is usually me (there is no disputing that I am Brie’s favorite...which is convenient, since she drives Simon crazy). She then gets all excited once she’s found me, as if she had been on a days long quest through the mountains to reach me...this happens quite often. It’s both cute and sad at the same time.
So I’ll continue to watch her. To do what I can for her. And like I did with Lady, I think I’ll know when it’s time. Selfishly I want her to stay with me for as long as possible, and I think she’ll do what she can. But when she lets me know that it’s time, I’ll hold her in my arms, thank her for all the good years she gave me, and gently say goodbye. Simon said it best when he said that what’s saddest about old dogs is that they remain so mentally sharp, usually right up until the end. The mind is willing but the body is shot. It’s so unfair that our most loyal little beasties are cursed with such short little lifespans. I guess I’m thankful to be a part of their little lives at all.
Things I’m thankful for on May 7th:
Spending time with good friends in the sunshine
Simon in the driver’s seat
Pho with Abby and JD
Snuggled in the bed with my puglets
Bacon
Red-headed birdies on the feeder
T-shirts and flip flops
campfire smell in the air
good friends in the sunshine
ReplyDeletebacon
mmm-hmmm. :)