(no subject)
During my sophomore year of high school (many, many thousands of years ago), my parents--in attempt to temper an adolescence in the midst of going wild--bought me a golden retriever for my birthday. I totally flipped out in the very best way, for a time even feigning an interest in behaving and praising Jesus for His glory. To this day, I can't think of a single thing I've ever loved more. I took responsibility for training her, cleaning up after her, feeding her, and loving her to death. She slept with me every single night and my friends and I would take her to the beach and--later on--my youthful gay friends and I would take her for "walks" in "parks" in an ongoing effort to land husbands. When I first moved out, we decided it would be best for her to live with my parents, as apartments don't make great homes for giant dogs. Even though I worried about my parents winning her to the Lord, I knew my parents' house would provide plenty of room to play and live and I had two little brothers who really loved her just much. They picked up right where I left off, taking her to the snow in the winter and to the lakes in the summer. (Luckily, I moved in and out of my parents' house about eleven times in my early twenties, so I'd have lots of opportunities to see her again and again.) When I first moved into this house, I had my dog come stay with me a few times, testing the waters to see if she could adjust to life without my parents and without familiarity. She was just too old for such a big change, so we decided to leave her with my parents.
Today my mother called me while I was on the way to work, informing me she had some horrific news. She asked that I brace myself. I had an idea something was wrong from the moment I woke up--and even when I went to bed last night--but I just attributed my feelings to my notorious mood swings. My heart sank. A lot of shit has gone wrong this year and I really just couldn't fathom what possibly could have happened. Apparently my sweet, beautiful, precious canine had a stroke this morning. My grandfather, who lives on my parents' property and who walks the length of the property every morning, found her. She was conscious but unable to move. At his age my grandfather is in no condition to try to lift or move large dogs, so he went inside, retrieving a pillow for under her head and a blanket to keep her warm. He called my parents and stayed by my dog's side until my father and mother arrived home. My parents took her to the vet, and the doctor told my parents my dog had suffered a stroke and there was little hope of her surviving surgery. They decided to put her to sleep. The nurse tried to usher my mother out of the room while they did it, but my mother refused to leave. My dog kept her paw over my mom's arm the entire time. She kept trying to lift her head, but she couldn't. My mom talked about how she just kept petting her over and over, talking to her and promising her everything would be ok. She said her presence seemed to comfort her. My dog kept her paw on my mother's arm and even managed to move her head to rest on my mother's other hand and she stayed in that position until she died. I wonder if she wondered where I was.
Unfortunately, I heard all this while driving to work. I had to pull over at one point because I was crying so hard. I arrived at work and asked to go home. My boss refused. I've been so upset and sad and a few times today I found it difficult to breathe. I really wish my mother had called me so I could have gone to see my dog before they put her to sleep. Yeah, I'm pretty sure it just would have broken my heart, but I really would have liked to have been there. I had no idea when I saw her on Thanksgiving that it would be the very last time. Every Christmas for the last 14 years she's been rifling through everyone's presents, looking for hers. One year we considered getting her doggie sedatives because she'd get that riled up about her gifts. It's going to be so weird and depressing without her.
Today my mother called me while I was on the way to work, informing me she had some horrific news. She asked that I brace myself. I had an idea something was wrong from the moment I woke up--and even when I went to bed last night--but I just attributed my feelings to my notorious mood swings. My heart sank. A lot of shit has gone wrong this year and I really just couldn't fathom what possibly could have happened. Apparently my sweet, beautiful, precious canine had a stroke this morning. My grandfather, who lives on my parents' property and who walks the length of the property every morning, found her. She was conscious but unable to move. At his age my grandfather is in no condition to try to lift or move large dogs, so he went inside, retrieving a pillow for under her head and a blanket to keep her warm. He called my parents and stayed by my dog's side until my father and mother arrived home. My parents took her to the vet, and the doctor told my parents my dog had suffered a stroke and there was little hope of her surviving surgery. They decided to put her to sleep. The nurse tried to usher my mother out of the room while they did it, but my mother refused to leave. My dog kept her paw over my mom's arm the entire time. She kept trying to lift her head, but she couldn't. My mom talked about how she just kept petting her over and over, talking to her and promising her everything would be ok. She said her presence seemed to comfort her. My dog kept her paw on my mother's arm and even managed to move her head to rest on my mother's other hand and she stayed in that position until she died. I wonder if she wondered where I was.
Unfortunately, I heard all this while driving to work. I had to pull over at one point because I was crying so hard. I arrived at work and asked to go home. My boss refused. I've been so upset and sad and a few times today I found it difficult to breathe. I really wish my mother had called me so I could have gone to see my dog before they put her to sleep. Yeah, I'm pretty sure it just would have broken my heart, but I really would have liked to have been there. I had no idea when I saw her on Thanksgiving that it would be the very last time. Every Christmas for the last 14 years she's been rifling through everyone's presents, looking for hers. One year we considered getting her doggie sedatives because she'd get that riled up about her gifts. It's going to be so weird and depressing without her.