She Can See Clearly Now...

[Pippin]

It hurts too much to try and detail the last month of my little one's life... the worries, concerns, and hopes that were ended when Doc called me last Thurs night and said "it's time." My little one was in the early stages of renal failure, and I was about to have 3 weeks on the road, so if we waited I might not be around to say goodbye.

 

So today we had one last vet visit. Dee was there, and my little girl was as surrounded with love as it's possible to be. All 3 of us (dee, me and the vet) were petting her and loving on her at the end, telling her how good she was.

 

I've known this was coming since she didn't get her dental on 8/8 due to her kidney values being bad. And I know it's the right thing to do, and the right time to do it (she was barely eating, and not keeping down most of what she ate), but that doens't really make it any easier.

 

We were perfect for each other. I needed a lapdog, and she needed a lap. Once we found what we needed, we called off the search.

 

 

I won't spend my days

waiting for an angel to descend.

Searching for a rainbow with an end

Now that I've found you,

I'll call off the search.

 

And I won't spend my life

gazing at the stars up in the sky

Wondering if love will pass me by

Now that I've found you,

I'll call off the search.

 

Out on my own

I would never have known

This world that I see today

And I've got a feeling

it won't fade away.

 

And I won't end my days

wishing that love would come along

'Cause you are in my life

where you belong

Now that I've found you,

I'll call off the search.

 

-Mike Batt-

 

 

Jessie in May 2004, 2 weeks after moving in with me:

 

 

early July 2006:

 

 

You can see clearly now, little one. And hear the birds sing and the crickets chirp.

Edited September 9, 2006 by Pippin

[Guest argolola]

I'm so sorry that your angel had to leave. May God bless you and heal your broken heart.

Edited September 10, 2006 by argolola

[Guest lds001]

I am so sorry for your loss and yes....she can see clearly now. You are in my thoughts

[Guest DoneRacin]

I am so sorry.

 

What a beautiful girl.

 

My heart goes out to you.

[HopeForHounds]

Oh Mary I'm so sorry.

Godspeed little one. You were loved.

[smday]

I'm so sorry.

 

Susan

[Pippin]

here's the official rememberance post. I'm gonna go hide now.

 

*************************************************************

 

I won't spend my days

waiting for an angel to descend.

Searching for a rainbow with an end

Now that I've found you,

I'll call off the search.

 

And I won't spend my life

gazing at the stars up in the sky

Wondering if love will pass me by

Now that I've found you,

I'll call off the search.

 

Out on my own

I would never have known

This world that I see today

And I've got a feeling

it won't fade away.

 

And I won't end my days

wishing that love would come along

'Cause you are in my life

where you belong

Now that I've found you,

I'll call off the search.

 

-Mike Batt-

 

I was looking for a lapdog; she was looking for a lap. We found each other, so call off the search. Her little stubby body held an over-sized heart. Her opaque eyes shone with love for her human. She was the perfect size for a lapdog, and knew

exactly how to keep my back warm at night.

 

The turbo-tail never stopped, and the retractable tongue didn't fully retract anymore, but these added to her charm. A

companionable nuisance at first, her annoyances quickly became endearments.

 

I'm sitting here thinking about her, and the memories are flooding in...

 

That restless first night in April 2004, when she didn't really know who I was or where she was. She jumped over a babygate

that night, surprising me with her agility and her grace.

 

The struggle to get her weight down while continuing the maintenance dosage of prednisone for her "liver abnormality."

 

Her sheer enjoyment of almost any food. If it was edible, she was pretty much all over it. I learned early on to push in the

chairs around the kitchen table. I didn't have to do that with my big dog, and one day after lunch I looked up and saw her

front paws on the table, her back feet on my chair. She was polishing off the rest of my lunch, that I had intended to have

for dinner.

 

After she learned not to eat from the table, she would lie in wait while I ate, her cloudy eyes alert for any dropped crumbs. I never had to vacuum under my table after she moved in. As her eyes deteriorated, her nose took over, sniffing out every bit of dropped food.

 

She was not a young dog when she joined my family 2 1/2 years ago. She had spent 9 years devoted to a little old lady in Alabama, but the new husband didn't appreciate the value of an IG's love, so she needed a new home. I needed a lapdog and a companion for my greyhound, so it seemed like a good match.

 

And once we got past the adjustment period, it was.

 

Well, except for the time she wasn't looking, and jumped off the sofa onto the sleeping greyhound. (oops)

 

There's a reason someone coined the expression "Let sleeping dogs lie." We did a "peace of mind" visit to the vet after that

incident. I think that was our first peace of mind visit. There were many more after that.

 

Not only was she an older dog when she moved in with me, but she came with her own set of health issues. A "liver

abnormality" that required prednisone to control it, cataracts (that are exacerbated by the pred), and a heart murmur. She

got enalapril every day for that. The adoption lady was afraid no one would want an elderly dog with health issues, but my

only concern was whether I could afford her meds. Thank goodness for the Costco pharmacy. I was unemployed, so she came to me as a "permanent foster." She would live with me, but the adoption group would pay the vet bills. Then I got a job. To celebrate her "gotcha day," I adopted her.

 

My vet told me the "liver abnormality" was hepatitis, and the pred dose was probably too high. We jiggered the dosage until

we found one she could live with. Then one day she wouldn't eat. I got her into see Doc the next day, and we discovered a

severely abcessed canine tooth. She wouldn't eat cause it hurt too much. She lost 5 teeth in that dental, including the

abcessed canine, and was back to her sassy self again. That was last summer.

 

As the summer faded into fall, I realized she was losing her hearing, and her eyesight. It seemed an unfair blow to a little

dog that had already dealt with so much, but we worked around it. She slept more, and would often be sleeping soundly when I arrived home from work, because she didn't hear me come in. She would walk down the hallway like those robot toys that bounce off the walls, adjusting their path each time they hit an obstacle. We joked about getting her a bicycle helmet with curb-feelers on it so she would know when she was getting close to a wall.

 

This summer, it seems that every month brought some type of concern. She wouldn't eat for a day or so, and then would be back to normal. On August 8, I dropped her off for her routine dental, at 8am. Doc called me at 915. Her bloodwork didn't look good - kidney values were up, which is a side-effect of the enalapril. I'd never worried about her kidneys - my concern had always been the liver, because of the hepatitis. We postponed the dental, and put her on a kidney diet. I went out of town on a business trip.

 

My dog-sitter called me Wed night after I'd left. Jessie hadn't eaten for 2 days, and didn't want to come out of her crate.

"Take her to Doc," I said. "Drop her off in the morning when you take Angie for her dental."

 

She did. Doc called me that next evening. UTI. Fixable.

 

Strong anti-biotics and life will be good again, we hoped. But she was apathetic about food still, and it took her over a week to get back to anything like her usual self.

 

I was still on the road, and found myself dreaming about my dogs. In my dreams they were loose, and I could find the 2 big girls, but not Jessie.

 

One night as I was falling asleep, I saw her in my mind. She was standing next to a hedge at the edge of a busy street. There was a gap in the hedge, and on the other side it was green grass and blue skies and sunshine. On my side of the hedge it was speeding cars, drizzling rain, and grey shadows. She looked around at me, and looked through the gap, trying to decide which one to choose.

 

"It's ok, honey," I whispered through my tears. "It's ok if you want to go on. I can't come with you right now, but I'll be along later. I promise."

 

She just sat there, staring through the gap in the hedge. That was the night before doc diagnosed the UTI.

 

After the UTI was cleared up, I dreamt again that she was missing. I wasn't looking for her this time - in my dream I was accepting that she wasn't there. This dream confused me, because she was better. Or at least, the UTI was cleared up. That meant she was better, to me.

 

She wasn't better.

 

Doc called me last Thurs evening, and I pulled off the highway to talk to her, so I could give her my full attention. Jessie had been in for follow-up bloodwork, and it didn't look good. The UTI cleared up, but the bloodwork didn't. The kidney values had declined in the last month, and she had lost 2 pounds since Aug 8.

 

Doc said she was on a slow decline, and it wouldn't improve. It would just get worse. She had told me last week that renal failure is NOT peaceful. That euthanasia is a generous decision. I asked her Thursday "what's our next step?" She said "let her go."

 

Earlier this summer, on one of my many "peace of mind" visits with Jessie, Doc & I made an agreement. She would tell me when she thought it was time to let Jessie go, and when she told me that, I would let her go, whether I was in town or not. I wasn't going to make Jessie wait until I was back home if she needed to go sooner.

 

I was 400 miles from home when Doc called me, figuring to get home either very late that night, or sometime mid-morning Friday. Doc had a 40 minute spot open Saturday afternoon.We booked it. That would give me some alone time with my sweetie, and a chance to pamper her overnight, and to say goodbye to her and whisper into her deaf ears how much I love her, and how much she's meant to me.

 

I picked her up Friday when I got into town, and kept her with me with me the rest of the day. I blew off my Friday night commitment, and we hung out together, watching tv and eating popcorn. She wolfed down some raw hamburger, eating like she'd not seen food in days. A couple hours later, she regurgitated undigested hamburger meat. Saturday morning, I took her out to breakfast. Some strangers at the next table collected their bacon and offered it to her. She ate it with obvious

enjoyment. A couple hours later, I found undigested bacon on my livingroom floor. If I had any doubts about Doc's call on

the timing, these incidents cleared it up.

 

She's a very lucky dog - she's been deeply loved by several people in her life. Her first momma loved her for 9 years, and

her vacation-mom and I have loved her for the last 2 1/2. Eleven years of love for a sweet little dog. It's never enough,

but it's a damn sight more than some pups get.

 

She's seeing clearly now, and hearing the birds singing around her. The sky is blue where she is, and the grass is green. A

brilliantly vivid rainbow is arching across her sky, and a doberman named Burpdog is looking out for her, showing her the

sights in her new home.

 

I'll see her again someday. The God who loves me created my little girl just as surely as He created me, and He doesn't

forsake his creations. Until then, I have my pictures of her, and my memories. I'd rather have my little girl, snuggling up

against me at night, whining and scratching at me in the morning for her breakfast.

 

There will probably be more lapdogs in my life, at some point, but there will never be another Jessie.

[Guest hannahmom]

I am so very very sorry

[Guest DoneRacin]

"""She's seeing clearly now, and hearing the birds singing around her. The sky is blue where she is, and the grass is green. A

brilliantly vivid rainbow is arching across her sky, and a doberman named Burpdog is looking out for her, showing her the

sights in her new home.

 

I'll see her again someday. The God who loves me created my little girl just as surely as He created me, and He doesn't

forsake his creations. Until then, I have my pictures of her, and my memories. I'd rather have my little girl, snuggling up

against me at night, whining and scratching at me in the morning for her breakfast.

 

There will probably be more lapdogs in my life, at some point, but there will never be another Jessie."""""

 

What a glorious sight, Burpdog, the beautiful doberman looking out for her, showing her around that colorful, wonderful scent-filled place, and all the greyhounds flopping behind, ears up, happy to have another playmate!! You gave her what she needed, and she you! A beautiful story, thank you for sharing!

[GreyTzu]

[Devotion]

what a beautiful tribute to your Jessie. Run free sweetie and see clearly and feel young again. You are so loved. may your memories become your treasure.

[Guest Snowy8]

I am so sorry...the comforting thought is that they are no longer blind, hurt, sick...no more fleas ticks or mosquitos to make them ill. They are running & playing, chasing each other, or laying on clouds & couches.

Its comforting to know they're still watching over us also.

[Guest ss556]

I am so sorry.

[Batmom]

Mary, I remember when you brought her home, your delight in your littlest one, the sense of contentment and commitment you had for her. You were exactly right for each other.

 

I'm glad she got to gobble hamburger and bacon -- she got the pleasure of eating delicious things, even if they wouldn't stay down.

 

I'm glad you got to be with her.

 

I'm very sorry you had to let her go. Sending sincere condolences and many many hugs.

[Guest greybookends]

[Cully]

Run free sweet baby girl. You will see your family again someday.

[sonya]

Sending condolences and hugs. So sorry for your loss

[Houndtime]

Thank you for sharing the wonderful memorial for your sweet little girl. I am so sorry for your loss.

[GreyPoopon]

I'm so sorry.

[Guest GreysAndMoreGreys]

Mary, I am so sorry.

I'm glad I was able to share a bit of time with you and hear some of the stories about Jessie.

 

GOD speed little one, there are many friends there to play with and protect you.

[keiko]

I'm so very sorry....

[Guest Becki]

[Guest Tenderhearts]

What a beautiful little girl! I'm sorry you didn't have longer with her, but the time you did have was chock full of love :grouphug

[Guest guinness_the_greyt]

I'm so sorry.... What a beautiful tribute for your little girl!

 

Godspeed Jessie!

[Guest TheStylishHound]

I am so terribly sorry to read about your loss. Godspeed sweet one.