In Memorium: Alexandra
Today's September 11. This memorial has never really affected me on a personal level as I was fortunate not to have any friends or family there. It was a tragedy and I don't mean for my post here to belittle the memory of those who lost their lives that day. However, today will now forever mark the anniversary of something deeply personal to me. And the annual national outpouring of patriotism every anniversary of 9/11 will now help me remember this.
My mom's boxer, Alexandra, passed away this morning at almost precisely 4am. Alex has been a member of our family since I was around sixteen. She herself aged thirteen at the time of her passing. We've always held the animal members of our family close to our hearts and treat them as we would children. They are very special to us and Alex was something truly special among dogs. Alex was a marvel of excellent behavior and unending love and protection.
She always looked out for her sisters. I have a lot of fond memories of Alex but one of the more recent ones that sticks out in my memory was from when we were living with my mom most recently during our transitional period. They have a doggie door at their house so they can go out and tend to their business whenever they need. Our dachshund, Abby, was outside sniffing around a little too close to one of the rose bushes. Abby's collar got caught up on it and a thorn or two pierced her ear. She let out a horrible screetch in fear and we ran outside just in time to see Alex barrel in to the rosebush with complete disregard to the thorns, grab Abby by the scruff of her neck and carried her away from the bush.
I remember my wife being very upset about the rose bush, and I was too. But what came foremost to me was knowing that Alex would risk herself to protect not only all of us, but each of the puppies she had grown up with and loved as well. She never had a litter of her own but we've all been convinced for years that she would be an excellent mother. She had so much love to give and that instinct to protect.
Last night before bed, mom noticed a lot of swelling in Alex's abdomen. She posted to Facebook that Alex wasn't doing well and I kept thinking that we should go over there to be with her. There was nothing we could do, but I wish I had been there for Alex so she could've seen all of us before she passed away. I told this to my wife and she asked me if I wanted to see Alex that way. Of course I didn't, but as much as it would pain me I think it would've been better for us to be there for her. To tell her we loved her, so she could know that we were ok, so that if she had thought of us in her final hours she'd know that we were fine, we were there for her and we love her. I regret not doing that.
She quietly passed away and my wife and I went to see her before my mom returned from work to take her to the vet. We entered the office and she was laying there so peacefully. Her posture was perfect - she was lying down as she always did to sleep. She looked perfectly normal. I knelt down and petted her, put my forehead to hers. Though I didn't say anything I know she would've understood everything as if I were saying it.
I could say this of any of our dogs. Alex was something special and one-of-a-kind. Mom may bring a new pup in to our family one day but they would never be a replacement. He/she'd be a brother or sister of Alex's, even if they never got to meet her. She'll always be a part of our family and will always be remembered.
Love you, Alexandra.
My mom's boxer, Alexandra, passed away this morning at almost precisely 4am. Alex has been a member of our family since I was around sixteen. She herself aged thirteen at the time of her passing. We've always held the animal members of our family close to our hearts and treat them as we would children. They are very special to us and Alex was something truly special among dogs. Alex was a marvel of excellent behavior and unending love and protection.
She always looked out for her sisters. I have a lot of fond memories of Alex but one of the more recent ones that sticks out in my memory was from when we were living with my mom most recently during our transitional period. They have a doggie door at their house so they can go out and tend to their business whenever they need. Our dachshund, Abby, was outside sniffing around a little too close to one of the rose bushes. Abby's collar got caught up on it and a thorn or two pierced her ear. She let out a horrible screetch in fear and we ran outside just in time to see Alex barrel in to the rosebush with complete disregard to the thorns, grab Abby by the scruff of her neck and carried her away from the bush.
I remember my wife being very upset about the rose bush, and I was too. But what came foremost to me was knowing that Alex would risk herself to protect not only all of us, but each of the puppies she had grown up with and loved as well. She never had a litter of her own but we've all been convinced for years that she would be an excellent mother. She had so much love to give and that instinct to protect.
Last night before bed, mom noticed a lot of swelling in Alex's abdomen. She posted to Facebook that Alex wasn't doing well and I kept thinking that we should go over there to be with her. There was nothing we could do, but I wish I had been there for Alex so she could've seen all of us before she passed away. I told this to my wife and she asked me if I wanted to see Alex that way. Of course I didn't, but as much as it would pain me I think it would've been better for us to be there for her. To tell her we loved her, so she could know that we were ok, so that if she had thought of us in her final hours she'd know that we were fine, we were there for her and we love her. I regret not doing that.
She quietly passed away and my wife and I went to see her before my mom returned from work to take her to the vet. We entered the office and she was laying there so peacefully. Her posture was perfect - she was lying down as she always did to sleep. She looked perfectly normal. I knelt down and petted her, put my forehead to hers. Though I didn't say anything I know she would've understood everything as if I were saying it.
I could say this of any of our dogs. Alex was something special and one-of-a-kind. Mom may bring a new pup in to our family one day but they would never be a replacement. He/she'd be a brother or sister of Alex's, even if they never got to meet her. She'll always be a part of our family and will always be remembered.
Love you, Alexandra.