How could you resist that little face?
She was on duty 24/7 for the first 14 years of her life. (Before she went deaf) She protected our family from strangers, friends, family, and the recycle bin at the end of the driveway. She barked constantly, and as smart as she was, we could never get her to STOP BITING PEOPLE. She was a dog only a mother could love.
She could sit, stay, balancing things on her nose, walk on her hind legs, speak, rollover, play dead, beg. She was so easy to train, and so willing to please us.
She came to live with me fulltime in 2000. After I had moved out. I loved having her with me. She was a great companion, and I always felt safe with her around. We would go to the park everyday. I would take her to NYC with me. She would sit in her own seat on the train, and growl at everyone that walked by her. So funny to think about now. You should have heard her barking in Grand Central Station. The echo was incredible!
I even shaved her down a few times. Just to see what it looked like. If you are curious, this is what is looked like...
She was in my life long before my husband and children. Truly my oldest and dearest friend. In 2003 she fell, and broke her hip. Thankfully the vet was able to reset it, and with some TLC, she was quickly back and around. But, never quite the same. And old age really took a tole on that hip. It was hard for her to get up, and hard to walk. She started losing massive amounts of weight. She was having accidents in the house ALL THE TIME. She wasnt the same dog she once was.
So, we made that horrible decision to let her go. And I made peace with it. I knew it my heart is was time. But that didnt make it any easier to say good-bye.
We made the decision to stay with her until the very end. She had always been there for me, and I wasnt going to let her die alone. In the car, I opened the window and helped her put her head out the window, one last time. The ride to the vet seemed like it took hours.
I carried her inside. We spoke to the vet, well actually the vet spoke to me. I couldnt speak. I was going to lose it. The vet wanted to give Samantha a sedative to help keep her calm. I agreed. They gave her a quick shot, and within a minute she was quiet, peaceful and content. We could pet her again. For so long she wouldnt let us pet her. Probably because she was in pain. The vet came in, shaved off a little fur on her leg, and got the needle ready. I couldnt watch them do it.
I buried my face in her fur. And just cried. And cried and cried. She took two deep breaths and that was it. She was gone. We sat with her for a little while. I continued to cry and cry.
When it was finally time to leave her behind, it was so hard to walk out of the room and leave her laying on the blanket. SO HARD.
Now, her dishes still sit on the kitchen floor. Her leftover food and bones are still in the cabinet. I just havent been able to get myself to throw them away. It doesnt feel like she is gone yet.
I still expect to see her when I open the door to come home. And the first thought on my mind when I wake up, is to let the dog out. Its going to take time. She was 15 1/2. God Bless Her. She is in a better, happier place.
We pick up her ashes next week. Her favorite place to walk was Steep Rock in Washington. My brother is flying home in a week. And we all plan on taking one last hike with her up to the top.
We will spread her ashes on top of the mountain. And say good-bye, one final time.
She could sit, stay, balancing things on her nose, walk on her hind legs, speak, rollover, play dead, beg. She was so easy to train, and so willing to please us.
She came to live with me fulltime in 2000. After I had moved out. I loved having her with me. She was a great companion, and I always felt safe with her around. We would go to the park everyday. I would take her to NYC with me. She would sit in her own seat on the train, and growl at everyone that walked by her. So funny to think about now. You should have heard her barking in Grand Central Station. The echo was incredible!
I even shaved her down a few times. Just to see what it looked like. If you are curious, this is what is looked like...
She was in my life long before my husband and children. Truly my oldest and dearest friend. In 2003 she fell, and broke her hip. Thankfully the vet was able to reset it, and with some TLC, she was quickly back and around. But, never quite the same. And old age really took a tole on that hip. It was hard for her to get up, and hard to walk. She started losing massive amounts of weight. She was having accidents in the house ALL THE TIME. She wasnt the same dog she once was.
So, we made that horrible decision to let her go. And I made peace with it. I knew it my heart is was time. But that didnt make it any easier to say good-bye.
We made the decision to stay with her until the very end. She had always been there for me, and I wasnt going to let her die alone. In the car, I opened the window and helped her put her head out the window, one last time. The ride to the vet seemed like it took hours.
I carried her inside. We spoke to the vet, well actually the vet spoke to me. I couldnt speak. I was going to lose it. The vet wanted to give Samantha a sedative to help keep her calm. I agreed. They gave her a quick shot, and within a minute she was quiet, peaceful and content. We could pet her again. For so long she wouldnt let us pet her. Probably because she was in pain. The vet came in, shaved off a little fur on her leg, and got the needle ready. I couldnt watch them do it.
I buried my face in her fur. And just cried. And cried and cried. She took two deep breaths and that was it. She was gone. We sat with her for a little while. I continued to cry and cry.
When it was finally time to leave her behind, it was so hard to walk out of the room and leave her laying on the blanket. SO HARD.
Now, her dishes still sit on the kitchen floor. Her leftover food and bones are still in the cabinet. I just havent been able to get myself to throw them away. It doesnt feel like she is gone yet.
I still expect to see her when I open the door to come home. And the first thought on my mind when I wake up, is to let the dog out. Its going to take time. She was 15 1/2. God Bless Her. She is in a better, happier place.
We pick up her ashes next week. Her favorite place to walk was Steep Rock in Washington. My brother is flying home in a week. And we all plan on taking one last hike with her up to the top.
We will spread her ashes on top of the mountain. And say good-bye, one final time.
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2 comments:
I cried reading this... we had to put our cat down last summer, and reading your post, I could feel the weight of having to walk into that room and hold him as we said goodbye. I'm sorry you're hurting. :(
Rainbow Bridge
Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.
When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.
There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together.
There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.
All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.
The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.
They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.
You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.
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