(no subject)
July 01, 1994 - April 11, 2007
Rest in Peace, Shadow Marie... we miss you.
I feel terrible now that I don't have any pictures of my own on my computer of Shadow, I had to hot-link from Heather's website. I would have been perfectly fine if my dad hadn't started tearing up and his voice started cracking. I've never seen my dad cry so much before, but Shadow was (no cliche intended) not just a dog... she was a friend. She was more human than some people I know. She knew when people were mad, sad, and happy. Up until about four months before she was put to sleep she still acted like a puppy, running at high speed through the house and crashing into the door because she put on the breaks too late. She told us when someone was in our yard that wasn't supposed to be, but she also didn't like little kids riding their bikes down the road - or riding horses... I'm not sure why. I wonder if animals can feel sympathy and remorse like humans can, because I can imagine that Sammy would take it especially hard.
Dad knew that her health was going with enough time to plan a proper burial (he has her waiting for when Heather and I can come home.) I'm really not sure I want to handle that and actually be there for it right now, but dad really wants to wait for us. He put together a thick box to take her home from the vet and bury her in. Mom and dad told us that they lined it with the covering from Shadow's bed (which they bought and made specially for her), and she'll be in there amongst her favorite toys and her collar - one of these toys is the one I got her for Christmas this year.
Geez, I never thought I'd be so choked up over the death of a dog... I remember when we put Babe to sleep (apparently I was pissed!), and when Buffy died of a stroke right after I graduated high school. I cried when Buffy died, but I didn't really feel empty. Maybe it's because I actually got to see her dead. Or I was immune and unphased after having to go to the funerals of Nicki and Gerald, and my grandpa six months before that. Death was around me at that time, and I guess that all things must come to an end. Even though Shadow would have been 13 this year, which translates to about 84 in people years, and I knew that she was sick and not doing well, I still didn't see it coming. When I was home for spring break Shadow's breast cancer tumors were large - probably about the size of a golf ball. When Heather went home two weeks ago for Nicole's wedding, Shadow had started to have seizures. Dr. Bauer seems to think that the cancer got up to her brain, and was causing the seizures. It was only a matter of time.
Now, more than ever, I want Snowball to be with me... he just turned 16 years old, and that's almost life expectancy for a cat. I want him to be with me when he goes, or needs assistance going.