e.
I was very disappointed when it was that dog that was delivered to
me the following weekend. That disappointment lasted less than a day
as that dark brindle boy worked his magic on me. The perfect dog I
told everyone. But perfect can't begin to describe what Hardday was.
He was my confidant, he was the warm body that snuggled with me at
night, he was the wagging tail with the happy feet that greeted me
every time I came home. He was the beginning of a journey that has
given me the most joy and the biggest heartache ever. For 11 years
his one eye has missed nothing. He kept order in the kennel, he
graced my bed and was always there putting his nose in my hand and
giving his strength when times got tough. For all his easy going
manner he had a core of steel and a determination to do things his
way no matter what. That determination carried him thru the last few
years as his body got frail. Many thanks to Dr. Simms, Hardday's
acupuncturist, whom he referred as the cookie Dr., for helping to
keep him going. Last night Hardday had a stroke. His weak rear gave
out and he could only go to the right. He fought and thrashed for
hours. Getting him in a vehicle was out of the question. I fussed,
argued and begged him to stop. He had beaten every other road bump
in his life and he wasn't about to give up without a fight. I
finally got him calmed down and resting and got a few hours sleep
before he was up and at it again. He had to pee and he was going
outside no matter what. Once that was done I laid with him on his
bed and he let me know that he was done with this body and ready to
move on. All he wanted in the end was for me to be with him. Such
presence, grace and dignity as he had allowed him to leave with a
slight sigh and a promise to wait for me. Right now I'm lost. My
compass, my solid base that grounded me, my reason for everything I
do is gone. I'm glad you are free my sweet man, but OMG how I miss
you! - Sara
Dexter the
Wonder Pooch. Dexter Doggy Dogg. Triple D.
My husband and I adopted Dexter from Star City
Greyhounds five years ago. He was a
terrible racing greyhound, but he was an
outstanding pet greyhound. Affectionate,
sweet, usually mellow but occasionally grumpy,
Dexter was the dog that met me every day at the
door, the dog that danced with me in the living
room, the dog that snuggled his 74-pound frame
between my husband and me in our queen-sized
bed. Dexter was the dog that made us love
dogs and was the undisputed pack leader to our
two other pooches. We weren't ready to
lose him.
On June 2, the seemingly healthy 7-year-old dog
we left in the morning was clearly in distress
when my husband returned home from work.
We took him to Emergency Veterinary Services of
Roanoke, where he spent the night in critical
care. But the vet couldn't fix what
was broken. Something exploded in his brain -- a
tumor, an aneurism, we don't know -- and it was
forcing his blood pressure to brutally punish
the rest of his organs. No matter how much
medicine was pumped into him throughout the
night, he wasn't coming back. After 14
hours of treatment there was no improvement. We
said goodbye and put his body to rest.
We cried an ocean of tears. The grief was
choking. We felt that we had somehow let him
down, even though logically we knew that wasn't
true. I regret that Dexter got dealt a
crappy hand of DNA. I regret that he won't be
here for another summer, another Christmas,
another spring. I regret that we have to
develop a new daily routine with our remaining
pets -- a new normal -- that doesn't include
him. But I will never regret that Dexter
was part of our family. He left a legacy
in my personal and professional life. Dexter the
Wonder Pooch, the muse that inspired this column
and my blog, is immortal in our hearts.
The outpouring of sympathy my family received
was touching and has helped us find peace.
Cards and e-mails from friends, co-workers and
dog lovers I've met through this column as well
as empathetic comments left on my blog and my
Facebook page show me that people do care, they
do understand this grief, and that we have a
great circle of friends. Will we get
another dog? Maybe. Probably. But not for a
while. My family needs time to grieve and
time to heal. And that will take as long as it
takes.
Excerpt reprinted courtesy of Nona Nelson
See Nona's full article "The Pain of Losing a
Pet" at
The Happy Wag.
    |
Ozzie
My sweet baby girl
Twister has crossed the Bridge. I will
miss her perky ears, her endearing 
