sistawendy | farewell to Her Puppiness

I said a couple of days ago that the Puppigrrl's time was near. In the last 48 hours she stopped eating, even broth, and stopped showing interest in attention. After seventeen years for her and fourteen with us, it was time.

My son & I took her for one last foot-dragging walk in the sun, and then we packed her up in the car to go down to the vet. The last thing on earth that she felt was my hands on her face.

I bawled immediately afterward. Maybe that was the estrogens; maybe it wasn't. My son had earlier said he didn't want me to. Sorry, kiddo.

I couldn't bear to look at her body. Nibs cried too, but her schmoozing with the vet afterward somehow became powerfully irritating. I said, "I want to leave," and we did. Nibs got us a split of champagne, with which we shall toast our little black Lab mixed with something smaller.

Nibs & I have speculated over the years about our Puppigrrl's idea of heaven. This is what it's like:

There's a side of beef on the couch just for her, and nobody to tell her not to jump up and start gnawing.

The doors of all houses and cars are open.

All the squirrels and rabbits are slow enough for her to catch. The birds can't fly away. (The souls of bad squirrels, rabbits, and birds go to dog heaven.)

There are no evil naked humans ready to scoop her up and carry her into the shower. There is no such thing as shampoo.

There's just the right amount of snow on the ground in places for her to bound through.

No humans walk past without petting her.

There's a large open space filled with dozens of other good dogs that she can chase and buttsniff, sort of like the off-leash area at Marymoor Park in Redmond.

There's a body of water that's warm enough to swim in.

Whenever she wants, lots of human hands will appear to pet her and scratch her wherever she wants.

Among those hands, however, will not be those of the person puppy she helped raise, or the short adult who cooks, or the taller one with the leash and the ear fixation. She doesn't miss them, but they miss her.

Primate love, doggy. Primate love.

Current Mood: numb
Current Location: the Abbey office

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh I'm so sorry. I've always loved your stories about her. I was raised with dogs, and miss having them around. I was grateful for the opportunity to live vicariously.

We're fortunate when we get to share our lives with such gentle, loyal beasts. My heart is with you.

This made me cry. The connection you had with her was palpable in your writing and not just in this post, but every time you wrote about her. Thank you for sharing that with us. I am so sorry for your loss and I am glad that she is no longer in pain.

I'm so sorry for your loss, and so happy that it was peaceful for her. I feel certain there's a doggie heaven, and that she's in it.

Here's another toast to a long, well-lived, well-loved life. I hope the pup is frolicking in exactly that vision.

I am so sorry, sugar. I know how hard it cam be to lose a family member like this. She wasn't just a pet.

Know that I send my love and sorrow to you and all your family.

Much love, from one dog lover to another.

I am SO sorry. Reading your description brought tears to my eyes.

It's very hard. I'm sorry.

Oh sweetie, I am so sorry.

I'm sorry for your loss.

I am so sorry.

::love::

Very moved by that description of dog heaven.

My sympathies.

I'm very sorry for your loss, but I'm glad that there was a clear line drawn and that you did the right thing by her.

i am sorry to hear that :(

This is one of the hardest things we ever have to do. I'm so sorry she's no longer with you, but so glad you and she had each other for so long.

I'm so sorry.

She was a good dog, and you were her good human. Eternal pettins, Puppigrrl.

My sincerest condolences.

I'm so sorry.

I am so, so sorry.

I'm sorry too. Even if it was the right thing and all that, I'm still sorry.

She misses you. But dogs are patient, and they wait.

I'm glad you got to have her as long as you did, and I'm glad you guys were strong enough to let her go when it was her time. She leaves with you some wonderful memories. May she always find happiness.

~Aramada

I'm so very sorry. She was such a good dog, and you were her good human. And that was a lot of years of very fine love.

Nibs & I are proud of the way we treated her.

I am so sorry... This brought tears to my eyes as I read it. Have you ever read "The Rainbow Bridge"? It's a beautiful bit of prose, and may help ease the pain. *hugs*

Having gone through this with my two cats, both of which I'd had for 15+ years, I completely sympathize.

They're not around for puppigrrl to chase though, as they're in feline heaven, which has many comfortable piles of clean laundry sitting in of sun on which to lie, lots of tall furniture on which they can climb without being shooed off, and red laser pointers flickering everywhere that they can chase whenever the mood strikes, among other kitty delights.

Sorry to hear hun. I am sure it was hard. *hugs*

Many *hugs* and thank you for such a beautiful tribute here. I'm so sorry for your loss.

I'm so very sorry for your loss. It's so hard to lose such a good friend.

{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{ HUGS }}}}}}}}}}}}}}}

Ouch, ouch, ouch. :( Having just gone through this with Nimbus, I feel your pain. I cried the whole time I was there and never spotted petting him gently and giving him love.

BIG HUGS!

I'm so sorry...

I'm so sorry. You were a good doggy parent.

Aw, sweet puppy heaven.

I'm so sorry for your loss, dear.

I am so sorry for your loss. :(

I know it was hard, but I'm glad you were there for her. Shit. It's making me cry, too. :( I hope that soon your memories of her will bring more smiles than tears.