Saying Goodbye To A Dear Friend

On a regular weekday back in 1991 my husband Bill went to our animal control shelter. He went to help transport some dogs being rescued by a local animal welfare group. I have never been able to understand how one dog can be picked over another dog..one chosen to live while another is left to die. I couldn't do it. But thankfully some are saved. On this day they were looking and pulling dogs from the fate of the death row gas chamber. Bill sees a small little dog, a black and white mixed breed. The other people just walk past her. Bill walks over and she sticks her black nose thru the cyclone fence and looks up at him with her deep brown eyes. "How about this one? She looks cute." he says to the head lady. She looks at him with distaste and says,"No, that dog isn't what we consider adoptable." Bill looks back at the pleading brown eyes and says he'd like to save her. That we would adopt her. And so we did. Pepsi became part of our menagerie. Determined to not let the big dogs mistake her small size as a weakness, she quickly picked a fight and won with each of our big dogs. And so it began..our life with a pit bull trapped in a beagle sized body. When we had children she stood guard next to the bassinet. She cleaned the floor of all crumbs and made sure no food went to waste. She had a great love of plastic bags. She would role on them, sleep on them and eventually get tangled in them. It was so bad that I had to make sure no bags were left on the floor in my bedroom when I went to bed. If she found one she would wake even the deepest sleeper! My daughter on more than one occasion had to call me to get her backpacks and purses away from the dog. it wasn't unusual to see her dragging them thru the house around her neck. She had a fondness for sleeping on clothes too. My soldier Jason couldn't lay his stuff anywhere in the house that she didn't find it and make a bed out of it. And Heaven forbid you wear black and come to my house! You were certainly leaving with Pepsi hairs on you! She followed me every step I made every day. If I went to the bathroom and didn't completely close the door, she had no problem at all pushing the door open and sitting in the doorway. I wasn't allowed out of her sight. And nobody came to our house that she didn't meet. If they made the mistake of sitting in "her chair" she would stand and stare at them until they moved. She had the most personality of any dog i ever had. Then she got old. First came the white glasses as we called them. She had white rings around her eyes. She moved slower, slept more and couldn't hear. I had to make hand motions like an air traffic controller to tell her what i wanted her to do. My family made fun of me..but it worked. Then she started coughing and I recognized the cough. Fluid on the heart..which meant Lasix..which meant a LOT more trips to the bathroom if she made it that far. ( the living room carpet took a beating) I had to make the decision to make her sleep in the garage on a bed. A decision I did not want to make and regretted. She had always slept with me. In the last week or so she started panting..constant panting and pacing. The vet said it could be anytime. her heart was enlarged and she had fluid built up. Bill and my son went to Orlando one more time before school started. I just couldn't leave her. I wasn't trusting her care to anyone. so my daughter and I stayed home. On Sunday I went to get her from the garage. She came in and was walking to the front door and she fell over. I froze and just looked at her..then went over and was petting her. She got up and was ok for the rest of the day. But I was worried. I was going to bed that night about 11. She was laying sleeping in the living room. I sat looking at her and wondered if i should just let her stay in the house. She couldn't hurt the carpet after all it's ruined and something just didn't feel right. I got a shower and decided to put her in the garage anyway. I found her sitting next to my daughter and i picked her up and carried her to the garage. I put her on her rug and turned on her fan. As I went to leave i heard her get up to follow me. I didn't look back but hurried on out and closed the door. i always felt guilty leaving her in the garage so I could never look back at her. I just didn't know that it would be my last chance to ever see her alive again. She passed away during the night...She was getting up to follow me for the last time. And I turned my back on her and left her to die alone in that garage...and for what? So I wouldn't have to clean the carpet? It's ruined anyway!! Now I have to try to live with the guilt of leaving behind the best friend I ever had. Leaving her to die on a concrete floor alone..how can I ever heal from that?

said 10 months ago Edit · Delete · Permalink · 2 Comments