NOTE: If you choose not to read this series I understand. I will resume normal posts on December 8th.
This is part 3 of the toughest post I’ve ever put up on this blog. As you read it you will see why: it details the final week in the life of my beloved dog, Maisie. This is set to go up on the web during the week after we have her put down. I know I won’t be up to writing anything new for a few days.
I started writing this on Friday of the week before her death. When I woke up Saturday I knew there was much more to say and decided to make it a journal of my thoughts and feelings during that last week of our lives together. Her life is so intertwined with mine that where her gray butt begins and my gray beard ended was often indistinguishable. One big lump on the couch, one snoring mass on the bed, one contented ball of fur and drool on the carpet, and one love so deep that my head explodes when I think about it now.
Please hold us in your prayers. There are three grieving souls at this minute and one who’s gone on to wait ahead for us. Because if Jesus can count the feathers on a bird, I know He certainly has a fresh bowl of kibble and some water for a Sheltie. He’ll take good care of her until we can join her down the road.
SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 25, 2012
The march of death and destruction continues to sweep past me. When I got home on Sunday morning I realized that my tablet was about to give up the ghost. The next hour was spent trying to get all of the pictures and video off the thing before it checked out and joined the parade of darkness. I had stuff on there that couldn’t be found anywhere else and I didn’t want to lose it forever. I managed to pull it off, got all the pictures just before it took it’s final power cycle to heart, likely never to brighten up again.
The download was in progress when I realized that my head as almost bouncing off the desk. I was taking serious hits and knew I’d better get up to bed before I woke up stiff from corking off in the chair. I gathered up my girl and headed upstairs.
After getting the bedcoverings just right so she would be comfortable I lifted her frail body up and gently placed her on the bed. Long gone are the days when she’d jump up on her own or ask for a boost. She needs to be picked up and gently set down. Those old joints have no meat on them anymore and a hard landing is liable to break something.
I knelt on the floor next to the bed and just gently stroked her fur for a long time. I knew my decision was the right one at that moment. Any lingering doubt I had was eliminated when I took stock of my Velvetine Rabbit. In the story, at least as I remember it, the rabbit is worn and scarred by the love of the boy. My Maisie looked like the rabbit on Sunday morning. She had a good share of the fur missing from her ears that she’d scratched off. Her scalp had a patch the size of an Oreo cookie that she’d scraped off trying to make either the itching or the ringing in her ears stop. Her joints clicked, she had fearsome itches all over her body to go with her dry skin. She was literally falling apart before my eyes.
I knelt there and gently loved my girl. I knew she was enjoying the feel of my hand on her belly and chest. I tried to scratch the itches on her back and most of all I tried to show her how much I loved her. She’s an amazing girl, a girl who has brought so much love to me over her lifetime that I will be in her debt for eternity. But the beautiful, vibrant little dog that has raised so much ruckus around the house is quiet and subdued. She sleeps deeply and hears almost nothing outside her head. And her eyes are dimming.
On the bed Sunday morning her eyes were full of love. She licked my nose and comforted me in my sorrow. I turned off the lights and crawled into the bed. I felt her tuck in beside me on the bed and I laid there in prayer for all of my friends who were in pain that day. All of my associates with problems, dying loved ones, and challenges. And I prayed for myself and my family. We will be diminished by 1/4 of our strength this coming week and it’s going to be painful.
