Saturday, May 30, 2009
To My Sweet Porter
Saying goodbye to you today was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I remember that the last time I had to say goodbye to a dog was in the 3rd grade, to Charlie, who looked a lot like you. I went to school and I was so upset that my teacher recommended that I write him a letter. I did and I felt much better. So here is my letter to you, my sweet sweet boy.
I'm sorry you were in so much pain today. I can't imagine what it must have felt like to have to fight so hard for every breath. You were so brave. I feel lucky that, until this morning, you were doing so well. I feel lucky that we gave you a lot of treats this morning. I feel lucky that we had so much fun playing in the yard on Thursday. I feel really lucky that, despite what all the vets predicted, you lived for 3 whole years after your chemotherapy. I feel very sorry that we couldn't take you swimming or for walks for the last few months because it was so hard on your body. But, our last walk through the trails and playing in the creek at McCollum Park will be a favorite memory.
You've only been gone a few short hours, and already life feels a little unrecognizable. The silence in the house without you here is deafening. You were such an integral part of this family. I was making a sandwich this afternoon and I was waiting for you to run up to me so that I could give you cheese--maybe your favorite food. I tiptoed into the room where Maizey was sleeping and I didn't hear the thumping of your tail. We took Louise outside to play and the yard felt so empty. Someone rang the doorbell and there was silence--not your protective bark. That someone was delivering flowers to us, because we lost you.
I want you to know that you had the whole vet's office in tears this afternoon. They must have remembered the time that they took you back to cut your nails and it took 5 people to hold you down, and somehow you managed to snap the bra off of one of the techs--you silly boy. I am devastated, and so is daddy. Maizey doesn't know it yet, but she will someday. I am worried about Louise and Allie. They both loved you so much. We are giving Lou some holistic anti-anxiety dog meds, I'm hoping that will help minimize the grief that she already so obviously feels. We're going to get her a new bed today, so she can snuggle up and think about you.
You were such a good dog, Bubba. You brought us so much joy in your short 9 years. I hope that wherever you are right now has lots of cheese. I hope there is a big lake, full of big rocks for you to dig up. I hope that someone is throwing you a stick in the water so many times that you will sleep for days after. I hope that you get to tuck in the snow. I hope there are squirrels and birds to chase. I hope there are houses for you to protect and cars with the windows down for you to stick your head out and smell the air and let your ears flap in the wind.
I miss you so much. I will always miss you. Today, when I came to see you, you were panting so hard. They couldn't do anything to get your airway to reopen. I held your face in my hands and put my head on your head, and for just a moment you relaxed. I know you loved me as much as I loved you. Daddy said that right before you passed away, your breathing got back to normal for about 20seconds and that you peacefully fell asleep in his arms. I'm glad that you are at peace. I love you.