Day 288
There are days when, for one reason or another, the last thing I want to do is this blog … and usually it is.
Today I had just finished laying insulation in the “meat-locker” aka: hall closet attic and was looking at my list deciding which of my other impending house projects to tackle – when life intervened.
Sam contacted me saying she had to put her sweet harlequin Great Dane, Carli, to sleep this morning. A very sad day in our households. When we actually talked I don’t know who was crying harder – she or I. We are definitely soft-hearted animal lovers.
And for anyone who owns a pet … you’ve been there, done that, or know that your future holds the same sad happening. It’s the worst part of having a pet … and yet, at times, it might also be one of the best.
I don’t mean I like to have a pet pass or that I like to play God … but when you choose to have a pet put down – you choose. You don’t have to wait until they are suffering terribly. You don’t have to watch them fade away. You don’t have to wait until their bodies fail and finally quit. You can help them along.
I still wish we had that option with humans. I know, a very controversial topic, so I won’t get into it. Just my view on it. When you have a husband beg you to “put him out of his misery” you see life and euthanasia a bit differently than others. I’m not talking religion or ethics or even science … I’m just talking about humanity. The act and art of being humane.
My first dog, Moonie, was a hoot. She was an incredibly smart cocker spaniel with a very quirky side. She adored Ted and would go to his crib every morning and they’d have a little baby/dog chat. He’d gurgle and she’d make whining grr sounds. It was darling. She died on the operating table for a uterine cyst. I was devastated. It took me roughly 6 years to get over that dog’s death. She was my first “baby”.
Then came Sera, another cocker … the house-mother of the family. She wouldn’t go to bed until she knew the cats were in the house and the hamsters in their cages. She was one of the sweetest animals to ever walk the planet. I couldn’t bear to put her down and waited (in hindsight) too long. I kept hoping she’d die on her own and I wouldn’t have to make that decision … but I finally did. And the end was so much more peaceful than I had imagined I was upset with myself for waiting as long as I had.
Then it was Emmy … E. Normous the Wonder Cat. She was Sam’s baby sister … well, almost. She was practically boneless and so patient. Sam could pose that cat into any contortion and the cat just loved her all the more for it. She always brought me a gift on the first day of Spring – a dead worm laid out perfectly straight on the living room carpet. She had a very fast onset of kidney failure and I had to put her to sleep around Thanksgiving one year. It was horrible. She was so loved.
After that (not mentioning the tadpoles or hamsters that became cat food) it was Molly’s turn to go to the Great Beyond. She died the day after we got home from vacation – while I was out buying (of all things) toilet paper. Tim was with her, having taken her out to lie in the sun on her bed in the yard. She was an oldie and my first pug and I’m sure a part of my soul went with her.
This past May, the day I left Denver, I had to put dear sweet Yoshi down. I was not expecting that on my way out of town. I cried all the way to Nebraska … and then some. I’m not sure what it was about that little football shaped old lady pug – but I adored her. She was our piano player with the crispy tongue and just so patient and sweet. And even after her stroke and paralysis she hung around for a year or so … being old and sweet and happy.
And today … poor Carli. Giant breed dogs aren’t known for their longevity … but Sam was really good with her. Carli was a rescue and thought to be somewhere around 7 years old – so very much an old, old lady for a dog that size. And if a dog can be elegant … I think that is how I would describe her. She was so gentle and almost regal.
At first I was a bit afraid of her (well, the size of these animals is a bit intimidating!) … but she also had baby blue eyes and I was never quite sure what she was thinking. But I grew to love her and knew that Sam did so much, as well. Carli loved to play with her stuffed babies (little Lambchops) and Sam would tuck a towel into her collar to keep the dog warm but it looked like she was wearing a cape – so I often thought she was Super Dog! She’d “woo-woo” when you asked her “What do good girls say?” She was a sweet dog and I know Sam will miss her terribly – as will Sam’s other Dane/St. Bernard mix – Brutus. They were good buds.
I know how painful that decision for Sam was to make. I felt terrible that I wasn’t able to give her a hug in person today and be with her to help her through her initial grief. The downside of being 1000 miles away. Sometimes being a far-away mom sucks more than other times. Today was one of those times.
In any case … the rest of the house projects were put on the back burner while I took the day off and snuggled with my aging menagerie. I know all too soon I’ll be looking at one of my own leaving me … but for tonight we had a nice snuggle-fest and sent out a toast to Sam and to good girl Carli knowing that, in our hearts, good pets live on.