Sometimes life throws us curve balls. A little unexpected twist. Typically I take these in stride. Welcome a little shake up now and then. I am a firm believer that without knowing the negative, we can not truly appreciate all the positive. Sometimes we need to see something that shakes us up a bit so we may see just how good we have it. Positive and negative are natural occurences required to balance life.
When I took my beloved pup, Diego, to the vet last Tuesday for a rabies vaccine I had no idea the event that would unfold before me. I had noticed he had lost weight and was a bit lazy, but attributed it to the steamy hot Summer days. I was worried, being a large breed dog, that I would hear he had issues with his hips. It’s amazing what two minutes and a stethoscope can do to your life. The doc sat down next to me and said “We have a problem”. The initial diagnosis was a serious heart condition, but further testing was required.
Let me tell you, that was the longest ride home ever. Just me and my dog, in the middle of a thunder-storm, both in the sky and in my heart and mind. As the rain streamed down my windshield, the tears streamed down my face. As the thunder raged, so did the scenarios, fears, regrets. All those days I had walked the beach, telling myself tomorrow I would bring D. How much time do we have? How am I going to handle this again?
When I was 17 I graduated highschool half-year and moved to North Carolina to be with my high school sweet heart who was stationed on Camp Lejeune. A few short weeks before we were to leave, we happened upon a gentleman selling puppies out of the back of a pickup in a grocery store parking lot. It was late February, freezing cold and 13 pups lay huddled together on cardboard and newspaper. Needless to say my heart sank and all that is rational left our minds. We were rescuing one of these babies. To our dismay they were not quite old enough to leave their mother. We would need to wait two weeks. So we chose a fat little ball of fur, watched as a colored string was tied around his neck marking him as ours and bid him a sad farewell.
When the time finally came for us to bring him home, we discovered all the pups had chewed off their strings. We had to choose again. With 13 puppies running here, there and everywhere, I was a bit taken aback. It was chaos. How would I choose? They were much bigger now and not freezing huddled in the back of a truck. All of sudden, from this mass of hair and yipping runs the sweetest ball of fur I have ever seen. He chose me. From that day forward Luther and I were inseparable. My first child, my very best friend. My soon to be husband gave me the best birthday present I have ever had. All of my memories include my dearest friend- him waking me up on my wedding day, he crawling under the covers the moment my husband got out of bed each morning, he and I moving back to North Carolina, just the two us… and little Coty growing in my belly. My god I loved him so much.
When Luther got sick, bone cancer, I felt a pain I had never experienced. A piece of me was dying with him. I laid for hours those last few days. Us spooning in the sun. Telling him how much I loved him. How I wanted him to stay. Until I knew it just couldn’t be. His last day home, we laid on the grass, a trickle of sun through the shade playing over us. A robin flew down just a few feet away. Watching us for some time. Then gently flew off. I told him then it was ok to go. That I would always love him best. I gathered myself together and brought him in. I knew he was suffering, but choosing to end his life was horrific. Together we lay on that table spooning as the shot was administered. I laid there with him long after he was gone. My mom came to encourage me to let him go. And a piece of me really did go with him that day.
After that I just couldn’t open myself up like that again. Lola had come to us just a few weeks before Luther passed. And although I loved her dearly, I just couldn’t feel the way about her I knew I should. I wasn’t ready. After 2 years, an unexpected call came from the breeder. He had a male he was keeping for himself but since decided he couldn’t. I begged my husband to leave it alone. I still wasn’t ready. After days of prodding I agreed to go just to look. Famous last words right. As we drove in the drive, I turned to the kids and reminded them we are only here to see him. Not take him home. And so, Diego came into our lives. A big, goofy, crazy ball of energy. Wild. Off the wall crazy. The very first thing he did as the breeder lifted him over the half wall of his kennel and in my direction was pee… all over me. Another one had chosen me.
The first few months… ok, ok, year-plus, was nuts. Diego proceeded to eat Every. Single. One. of my shoes. Along with everything else in the house. Furniture, books from shelves, electronics. How he did not electrocute himself is a mystery. I’m not going to lie. There were days, many days, I wanted to open the door and pray he would run away. Out! NOW! But after countless hours, hundreds of walks, pleading, swearing, crying…. he is finally, finally a great dog. I can walk him around the neighborhood off leash and not worry about a thing. As we sat in that waiting room I regaled at how absolutely wonderfully well-behaved he was. Children running up to him, dogs barking at him, one lunging and growling. He just laid there. Observant and alert, but calm and listening to my every command. A dream. We had finally done it. We had come a long way he and I, but we had done it. And I, who never thought I could open my heart again the way I had, was madly, truly in love with this crazy beast.
When that doctor turned to look at me I knew. My heart was being ripped from my chest one more time. I can’t do this again. Please let me be dreaming. Pain and fear rushing in. No room for optimism. No room for positive thoughts. But I held myself together… until the doc caught one tear slip, then handed me a tissue and said “you are being very brave”. That was all it took. I held my breath through the rest of it. Desperate to get out. To get to the safety of my car.
We had 3 days to wait. To wonder. To speculate. Three days for testing. Friday was dreaded and couldn’t come fast enough. We found that afternoon that Diego suffers from lyme disease and dilated cardiomyopathy. Heart disease. We don’t know if we have 2 days, 2 months or many. We just know that it will take him. That at 3 years old, he does not have much time left.
It’s funny really. Although part of me wishes I didn’t know, I feel blessed. Blessed that I have the time to say I love you, and to say good-bye. To do all those things that we might not other wise have done. We will get to the beach. We will snuggle more. I will remember, when I’m too tired to play, that life is short. Sometimes shorter than we even expect.
😦 Luther, he was great. Dogs are special in their own unique way and I’m sure that Deigo knows how much he is loved and adored. He would not want you to be sad but would want you to know that he loves you and will always watch over you when that time comes.
Oh Stephie……it’s eerily similar what happened to our dogs and the way we found out…….I love you and hope you can enjoy D every minute of every last day……..I dreamt of my girl last night and she said she’d take good care of him……my love to you and yours……
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