Thursday, September 23, 2010
It's been a while since I posted here, and I hope you'll forgive me but it's been a pretty traumatic week.
Lost one of the doggies, Mena, last Wednesday, and it's still very weird going on with life. She was only 12 and seemed perfectly healthy until a pair of masses on her spleen that had metastasized up to her heart burst open and bled out. We had no idea they were there; she was running around and playing fetch three days prior to her death.
There was nothing to be done; she was bleeding internally for a couple of days, but even if I had gotten her to the vet immediately there was no surgery or anything that could save her. Once there are masses on the heart, it's pretty much over.
But I keep telling myself she had a good life--and she did; she came from the shelter after being picked up on the street and was maybe 25 pounds underweight when we got her. She had no idea really of how to be a dog. In such a way that I conjecture that she was a street dog for a long time, or maybe a farm dog who got out. Playing fetch was a brand-new concept, as were sit, and stay.
Her street-life came out in that she was always very clear with other dogs that she was not to be fucked with. She never started shit, but no matter how big or tough other dogs seemed, she always marched right up to check them out, and essentially challenge them to start something if they wanted.
But once the initial posturing was over, she loved to play. She would do that puppy thing where dogs spin completely around in one hop, or she would bump into the other dog with her flank in hopes of getting them to chase her. She did that her whole life, and while she used to hop straight up in the air when we were getting ready to go somewhere, almost getting high enough that she was face-to-face with me, she had somewhat mellowed on that in recent old age.
And she loved people, all people all the time. When we first got her she would bolt all the way across the track at the old Fort Collins High School to go greet some new arrival, just out of sheer enthusiasm for life.
But platitudes and memories are cold comfort. She was a sweet, sweet, gentle girl and I miss her a great deal. There is an absence in my life and my house and both Sabi and Ben feel it too.
I'm just spending a lot of time with those two, remembering to gather rosebuds while I may.
Pet your dog or your cat for me today, please, right now, if you read this. Tell them how much you love them for me.
Miss you, honey.