On May 18th, 1998, I had to put my beloved dog, "Lady"
to sleep. It seemed to me that the world should stop to acknowledge the
loss of this truly wonderful being. |
I found this website when I was exploring information on the loss of pets.
I thought to myself, "This would be a great way to tell the world
about Lady's life." "They will know the great loss we have all
suffered in her passing."
This passage is a bit long. It was hard to cram fourteen years into a few
pages. Please take the time to read my story, Lady's story. I would love
for you to know about her life. It was a truly memorable one.
I can still remember the first time I saw her….It was
the spring of 1984, I was eleven. My family was going to be moving to a
new town. To ease the adjustment, my parents told us we could get a dog.
Our family had never owned a dog before, so to me, this was like winning
the lottery!
Mom and Dad brought me to the humane society to look for our new pet. As
soon as I walked through the doors that led to the "dog section,"
I saw her. She was in the first cage on the left. Her name was "Jessica."
She was a three month old Keeshond. I could not believe how cute she was.
With her little raccoon face and her curly tail, something about her told
me "she's the one!"
Her previous owner had been an elderly woman. Her son had bought the puppy
as a present for her. It seemed that "Jessica" was always in
the way when the woman was walking and the woman kept tripping over her.
She decided that she could risk injury no longer and so she brought the
puppy to the humane society.
"I want that one!" I exclaimed. I had made my decision. "Let's
look around a little bit longer," Replied my father. "No! This
is the one. I don't want another one! I want this one!" My parents
decided to make me sleep on it. If I still wanted that puppy the next day,
then that would be the puppy we would get.
I cried the entire night. I couldn't stand to be separated from the puppy
any longer. That night seemed to last an eternity!
In the morning, my parents asked me if I wanted to go look at other humane
societies to check out other possible choices. "No! I want "Jessica!"
I exclaimed. And that was it. We drove to the humane society and picked
her up.
On the way home, I was thumbing through the information that was given
to us. On the front cover of one of the flyers was a beautiful, majestic-looking
collie named, "Lady." I remember thinking that the name "Lady"
would be the perfect name for my new puppy. In my eyes, she was the queen.
From that moment on she was known to us as "Lady" (Lady Jessica
when we were mad).
Like any eleven year old, I began my task as dog owner with much zest.
I couldn't do enough for my new puppy. I walked her, fed her, made sure
she was well groomed, even built her little pools in the backyard (I would
dig a big hole, put a trash bag inside, as a liner, and fill it up with
water. I even put plants around it to make it seem tropical).
As I entered my teenage years, I began to slack off on my responsibilities.
I didn't really pay as much attention to "Lady" as I had in the
past. Luckily for "Lady," my grandmother lived in the house with
our family. She sort of "adopted" her as her own and gave her
the love and attention that she so craved. The love that I was unable to
give.
Before I knew it, it was 1993. My parents were separating, and my grandmother
was moving into my uncle's house. I moved into an apartment with my sister,
my father, and "Lady".
The new house was a great adjustment for us all, but especially for "Lady!"
She would no longer be living with her adopted mother (my grandmother),
her yard was too small for her to run free, and everyone had their own
problems that they were dealing with. Her needs were the last thing on
our minds.
That fall, I went away to college. Each time I came home, I noticed that
"Lady" looked worse and worse. She was beginning to display behaviors
such as urinating in the house, non-responsiveness, and general depression.
She was losing her zest for life!
The following year, things took a turn for the worse. My grandmother was
dying and the entire family was emotionally unstable. My father, not able
to handle any additional responsibilities, called me at school and told
me that if I did not come and get the dog, he was going to put her to sleep.
He couldn't take care of her anymore. He felt he had done it long enough.
I was outraged! "How could he do that to MY "Lady?" How
could someone get rid of a dog they have owned for over ten years? All
of those eleven year old feelings came rushing back to me. No one was going
to bring harm to my puppy! I had to rescue her. It was up to me to give
her a better life. She deserved it! Besides, my grandmother would have
wanted it that way.
My decision to rescue Lady was a blessing in disguise. It was at this time
in our lives that we truly needed each other! It was time that she was
treated with the love and caring that she deserved! It would soon be some
of the most trying times in my life.
I bathed her and took her to the vet. I made sure that all of her needs
were met. I walked with her, four miles a day. But most importantly, I
loved her. And that was all she ever wanted!
"Lady" was reborn. The life came back in her eyes. It was as
if she were still three months old. She was my best friend again! Our bond
was stronger than ever and continued to grow.
"Lady" brought me comfort throughout my grandmother's sickness
and through to her death. She gave me a reason not to stay in bed and sulk.
She was my excuse to get outside and walk. Our time together was better
than any therapy money could buy. She was an integral part of my life.
As the years went on, she continued to give me; unconditional love, companionship,
friendship, loyalty, an ever ready ear to listen without judgement, a shoulder
to cry on, and the sense that I was important to somebody. I continued
to make sure her needs were met, and to make sure that she felt loved and
needed. I knew in my heart that we were meant to be in each other's lives.
It was fate that brought us together.
Last week, Lady began to get sick. She kept eating grass and throwing up.
She became lethargic and slept most of the time. She couldn't keep any
food down and soon was not even interested in it. I tried changing her
food, feeding her people food, giving her treats that she used to beg me
for. Nothing seemed to interest her.
Something inside me said that there was something seriously wrong. Deep
inside I knew we were approaching the end. At the same time, I came down
with a case of the chicken pox. I was not supposed to leave the house.
Looking back on it, I think that I used this as an excuse to put off her
visit to the vet. If she didn't go to the vet, I would not have to hear
him say those dreaded words, "there is nothing we can do." My
chicken pox had finally healed, and I could no longer put off the vet appointment.
I called and got an appointment for later that day. I tried to prepare
myself for the worst possible scenario. Nothing could have prepared me
for what was about to happen.
The vet said she was in "Kidney Failure." I began to weep hysterically.
My baby, my Ladybugs, my little queen. She had been with me for so long.
I had her for fourteen out of my twenty-five years. I couldn't imagine
my life without her.
I had to make the decision. That dreaded decision. Should I try to prolong
her life? If I did buy her some time, what would the quality of her life
be? Was it really worth putting her through all of that, just so that I
could have some more time with her? She had put in her time on this earth.
I had to help end her suffering. Her quality of life had gotten so bad.
It was the only thing I could do for her. Well almost the only thing.
I asked the vet if I could have a few moments alone with
her. I held her, I stroked her, I told her how much I loved her. I knew
in my heart that she was ready to go. Usually, when she went to the vet,
she would shake uncontrollably. This time, she remained calm, as if to
say, "see, everything is going to be alright. I'm not scared."
The vet came back in the room. It was time. I decided to hold her so that
the last thing she felt was my loving arms wrapped tightly around her.
I did not want her last memory to be the feel of the cold, unfamiliar examination
table. As I held her in my arms, the doctor injected her with the drug.
I could feel her heartbeat on my left thigh. It sped up at first and then
slowly, stopped. Her body became heavy and limp. Her suffering was finally
over. I continued to hold her. And when I was ready, I surrendered her
lifeless body over to the vet.
Putting "Lady" to sleep was the hardest decision I have ever
made. But just as I had to preserve her quality of life, in life, I had
to preserve her dignity, in death. It was her time and she was ready. She
was a "Lady" through to the end.
It's been two days. Two of the longest days of my life! Things are just
not the same without her. I know, they say, that as time goes on, things
will get easier. At this point, it's hard to imagine that it ever will.
I guess I'm not quite ready to let the world go on without her.
I miss you "Lady!" Mommy loves you!"
Deborah P.