Paws

I didn't run Thursday. I spent all day at my sister's house. Our dog, Lady, was having a bad day (Cushing's, arthritis). Having trouble walking again. I guess deep down, I knew, but I was in denial about it all night. Finally, at midnight, my sister said we had to take her in. Suddenly, it was Luke all over again. I could see she was dying. We took her to Dove Lewis and they euthanized her. Chris and I were with her the whole time. I had my hand over her heart and felt it stop. She went very peacefully.

Yesterday we took her to Dignified Pets and had what I guess you could call our own version of a dog funeral. We (me, mom, sister) sat with her for a while and tied some fur from our three other dogs plus Chloe, the cat who especially loved Lady, around Lady's leg. We also cut off a small lock of our own hair to put with her. It's something we started doing; just makes us feel better that part of all of us who loved her will be with her until the very end.

I didn't run today, either. I finally got my period and I'm just not feeling up to it. I have no regrets about our life with Lady. Fourteen years is a good run. She had to have been at least 18 years old, but she didn't get old until very recently. It was a good (and dignified) end, but that doesn't mean I don't want her back here where she belongs. She was the glue that held our pack together. The other animals know, too. Bernie, her “BFF,” didn’t eat yesterday. They'll accept it and get on with their lives, but you can't tell me that they don't grieve.

The worst part about having animals (I won't say "owning") is that, compared to our lifespan, our time with them is so short, while our time without them is so incredibly long.


Lady
1992? - 2007