Yesterday I said good-bye to my fur baby. I had known it was coming, as he was sick and old. I thought I had prepped myself for it mentally. However, it has hit me hard than I anticipated. I had adopted him from a someone, in North Carolina (where I was living at the time,) who rescued him from a kill shelter at 6mo old. He was formally abused and flea ridden, and for a 6mo old puppy very lethargic, and uninterested in doing much other than curling up in a ball on the floor.
At the time I didn't realize exactly how much Spanky would come to bond with me. I was jobless at the time as we had just moved down to North Carolina. He spent many hours with me curled up on my feet while I scoured the internet for work. After a month or so of him living with me he started to open up and feel comfortable enough to act like a puppy. Curious about life, and wanting nothing more than someone to love him. we spent many hours going on walks, going to the dog park with his sisters, lola, Moose, and his brother Tanner. He became very much a part of the family.
I watched him grow, and when I had my first Child, I watched him become the protector of the "little hooman." I was impressed with the explosive power of your run, the height you could attain when chasing squirrels in the back yard. Always walking around with that Pitbull smile on your face and a happy dog. I always got the feeling that he knew how much better he had it with us than with his first owner (who dumped him off at the kill shelter.) He was always there to greet me at the end of the work day, and always happy that I was there, curled up in the shape of a horseshoe and wiggling your butt. You were quite the welcoming committee. I feel that he helped me as much as I helped him. No matter where my mental state was he was always there to lift my spirits. He always knew if I was in a bout of depression and was off. he was always down to snuggle, or for me to get my ass off the couch and play ball.
Through out the years, the locations may have changed, and he wasn't a fan of leaving the warmth of the south to return to the north east where the winters became hard on his joints. But he had the perfect place to spend his golden years. Coastal, rural Maine. Surrounded by many acres of woods to roam, a woodstove to warm his bones up to in the winter, and with many family members in the area, no lack of love in his life. Hell, he even became a shop dog. Spending many hours in the hair salon lounging and greeting patrons as they entered.
He was , by far, one of the most kind, gentle souls that I have had the pleasure of having in my life. Even though he couldn't speak he said a lot. Then the cancer came around. I watched it take the energy away from you and knew that the bad days were going to be more frequent, and I didn't want you to suffer. After providing so much joy to the family over the years I couldn't see you go through that. It wouldn't be fair. You took my suffering away, I couldn't let you suffer.
Your morning started off normal, until I showed up with your final breakfast of McDonalds sausage mcmuffins and a hash brown. Sitting in the vet yesterday was incredibly tough, as I knew what was coming and you did not. taking the long walk from the car , and watching you be hesitant about where we were going. Then the door opened for us to go into the room and you were even more hesitant about going in. It broke my heart. Although tired and old he was still inquisitive as to what was going on. interested in the catheter that was in his paw, sniffing the palm tree printed medical tape they had wrapped around to keep it in place. Big, sad, tired eyeballs looking at us.
The doctor had said that it would be quick, but I wasn't expecting it to be as quick as it did. It was so fast, honestly, it caught me off guard. The first injection was a sedative, and the next was the shot that ended his life. with in two seconds of administering the shot, I saw his head drop, followed by a final exhale, and it was done. like turning a light switch off. At 40 years old this was the first time that I had anything ever die in my arms. It was at that moment I realized that we are always a light switch away from not being here. No matter how strong we think we are, no matter how big or tall or broad shouldered we are, we are still extremely fragile. Everything can be taken away at the flick of a switch. Maybe that was your final lesson to me. Live in the moment, and enjoy what you can, because it can be taken away so fast.
I was heartbroken to see you go. I could only hope that Lola, and Moose were there to bring you into the afterlife. I know that you're not suffering anymore and that you can finally rest those tired bones of yours. I look forward to reuniting with you in another form in a few weeks. I have the perfect spot picked out for you next to that woodstove that you loved so much. Thank you for all of the years of loyalty and Love. you'll be missed dear friend.
Rest In Peace Spanky
aka "Doodle Butts"
2009- 2022
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