I must write something for Sandy, while the memories are so real. Sandy, one of our dogs, died a week ago Sunday night. We knew it was coming. He was sick, failing fast. In his last days I found so much compassion for him, and I kick myself for not being so much more so for longer. I feel like I somewhat failed as a pet owner in the last part of his life. I was so consumed with my marriage and watching it ebb out to sea, that the dogs, at times, were just so much for me to even deal with, which is awful to say.
Sandy and his brother, Shelly, Australian Blue Healers, were with us for 14 years. Shelly is still here. Sandy was the "baby" of the two. He always needed so much attention. Would bark at you until he got it. We had such a journey with them over the years. The last couple of years it was like they aged decades all at once, becoming much more feeble, unable to take long walks, getting sick (throwing up) losing their hearing, not even hearing the door bell any longer. I have had the pleasure the last year or so, that while I worked they sat on the couch next to me. Sometimes they were so asleep, I worried they had died. Often when I would go downstairs to lunch, Sandy would follow. He would sit and wait for his treats. Treats, it is what their life is about. If they went outside and came in, a treat was in order. The last couple of months Sandy did not follow me downstairs all the time, often either did Shelly. I would bring biscuits up to them, and sometimes could not even wake them to get them to eat it. I could see them falling away before my eyes.
The last month with Sandy was achingly sad, as I saw him falter so much, almost overnight he became a shadow of his former self, unable to walk far, panting for air, his backbone starting to show. It became really obvious he was not long for this world. And my marriage was falling away, so I was just so confronted with grief it was so hard to watch it. I am happy to say that in his last week, I made him chicken and eggs with cheese, and was delighted to see him gobble it up, and up, and brought him water right to him. I felt like for a few days I was giving hospice care to him. I knew these were the last days. It was beyond hard for me to have my husband move away, and then two days later to learn that Sandy died at the vet on a Sunday night, he did not even need to be put to sleep, he just went on his own, he was gone.
I recall him as a puppy, cute beyond words. He and Shelly were even "show and tell" for my daughter Megan when she was in the 5th grade. They were so small, they could both curl up on the front seat of my mustang. They shook with fear in the classroom.
Sandy loved frisbee and ball, and was a bit obsessed with it in his younger years. He always was jealous of Shelly, if you noticed Shelly, Sandy would come running over. He had to have attention. He would bark incessantly when my husband came home, like he was like a little kid who had to talk about his day. I miss him so much now. When I saw Marley and Me this past December, it made me so sad. I wished I had been a better pet owner. I felt like I had failed them in some ways. I always thought my husband was the better pet owner. I mean he adored them. He loved to cuddle with them, talk to them, kiss them, it was inspiring, always.
I did see Sandy two days before he died, almost comatose on his pillow in the truck, looking like he was at death's door. It was sobering and certainly the ending. Endings, they are brutal.
It is said you see your pets when you die, they come running. I hope so. Now Shelly lingers on, so lost and alone and I wonder when his time will be. So the end of an era.
Sandy and his brother, Shelly, Australian Blue Healers, were with us for 14 years. Shelly is still here. Sandy was the "baby" of the two. He always needed so much attention. Would bark at you until he got it. We had such a journey with them over the years. The last couple of years it was like they aged decades all at once, becoming much more feeble, unable to take long walks, getting sick (throwing up) losing their hearing, not even hearing the door bell any longer. I have had the pleasure the last year or so, that while I worked they sat on the couch next to me. Sometimes they were so asleep, I worried they had died. Often when I would go downstairs to lunch, Sandy would follow. He would sit and wait for his treats. Treats, it is what their life is about. If they went outside and came in, a treat was in order. The last couple of months Sandy did not follow me downstairs all the time, often either did Shelly. I would bring biscuits up to them, and sometimes could not even wake them to get them to eat it. I could see them falling away before my eyes.
The last month with Sandy was achingly sad, as I saw him falter so much, almost overnight he became a shadow of his former self, unable to walk far, panting for air, his backbone starting to show. It became really obvious he was not long for this world. And my marriage was falling away, so I was just so confronted with grief it was so hard to watch it. I am happy to say that in his last week, I made him chicken and eggs with cheese, and was delighted to see him gobble it up, and up, and brought him water right to him. I felt like for a few days I was giving hospice care to him. I knew these were the last days. It was beyond hard for me to have my husband move away, and then two days later to learn that Sandy died at the vet on a Sunday night, he did not even need to be put to sleep, he just went on his own, he was gone.
I recall him as a puppy, cute beyond words. He and Shelly were even "show and tell" for my daughter Megan when she was in the 5th grade. They were so small, they could both curl up on the front seat of my mustang. They shook with fear in the classroom.
Sandy loved frisbee and ball, and was a bit obsessed with it in his younger years. He always was jealous of Shelly, if you noticed Shelly, Sandy would come running over. He had to have attention. He would bark incessantly when my husband came home, like he was like a little kid who had to talk about his day. I miss him so much now. When I saw Marley and Me this past December, it made me so sad. I wished I had been a better pet owner. I felt like I had failed them in some ways. I always thought my husband was the better pet owner. I mean he adored them. He loved to cuddle with them, talk to them, kiss them, it was inspiring, always.
I did see Sandy two days before he died, almost comatose on his pillow in the truck, looking like he was at death's door. It was sobering and certainly the ending. Endings, they are brutal.
It is said you see your pets when you die, they come running. I hope so. Now Shelly lingers on, so lost and alone and I wonder when his time will be. So the end of an era.
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