UPDATE: Sincere thanks to everyone for your kind thoughts and prayers. I just returned from the nearby school where we used to go for walks or throw the frisbee. We spent so much time there over the years, I could see her everywhere - on the ball field, the edge of the running track, over near the trees. She will always be with me.
MORNING UPDATE: For something that was written mostly to fill the hole in my heart, I am glad so many people were touched by this story. Last night was mostly sleepless, as I replayed moments from her life in my mind. Kept waiting to hear the clink of her dog tag on the upstairs water bowl, knowing that it would not come.
Thank you all again for sharing your own stories of your beloved pets, and for your kindness.
Her real name was "Breckenridge," but from her love of catching frisbees, I chose the screen name "frsbdg."
Back in November, I wrote about the pain of watching a beloved pet grow old. My dog of 13 years was beginning to show signs of weakness in her hind legs. At the time, most days were good days. I updated that diary later in the day after we had gone for a short cross-country ski.
Through December, she seemed a little weaker than usual in the back end, but she still managed to get around well. On Christmas Day she sat with us by the tree and helped open presents - some of which were for her. Even a week later, on New Year's Eve, she was in the room with us, enjoying the party.
But the New Year was not kind to her. Almost overnight, she began to have trouble controlling her back legs. She slipped and fell on the tile floor, so I bought a ton of carpet runner to help give her traction. I could no longer trust her to walk downstairs from our bedroom, and had to put up a baby gate to keep her from going up the stairs during the day. In the mornings, I cradled her in my arms like a lamb and carried her down for breakfast.
She seemed to do a little better on the 4 stairs from the deck down to the yard when she went outside to do her business - those steps are wider and not as steep. But then she began to stumble on those, too. So I would take her out and lower her down to the snow and pick her back up when she was through.
As her legs became less and less functional, it would take her more time to get up from a prone position. First, she had to adjust her upper body over her hind legs and then lurch forward to pick her back end up off the floor. If she happened to be on a patch of tile or hardwood, I would help pick her back end up to get her into a standing position.
She did best when she was up and walking, perhaps because each leg only had to bear her weight for a moment at a time. But standing at her food bowl, which we had on an elevate platform, her back legs would sag as she ate, until she would just sit and finish her meals.
Last Friday morning, I knew her time was close. I carried her down to the ground floor, and she staggered into the kitchen for breakfast. She slipped and fell in the back yard while going out for a potty break. Mrs. frsbdg and I talked about it, and we decided that this would be her last weekend. She had reached the point when there really weren't any more good days, only "less bad" ones. And we couldn't risk letting her fall and seriously hurt herself.
We spent her last days doing some of her favorite things. We shared chicken soft tacos from the drive thru at Taco Bell. I took her to the dog park. She got to go for a short walk with her boyfriend, my best friend's black lab who is about 2 months younger than my baby was. That night, our closest friends came over for dinner and spend some time with her.
Sunday was our last walk together in her favorite place. She hobbled along as I held her leash and cried like a baby. Which pretty much describes the whole weekend, actually.
I took the day off from work today. I held her close as she took her last breath, telling her that her legs wouldn't hurt any more. That nothing would ever hurt any more. And then she was gone.
There are so many dog lover here at dKos, and many of you have lived through this yourselves. I know that time will heal my heart, and eventually it will be filled with the joy that comes from having shared almost 14 years with a faithful and loving companion. Hopefully that day will come soon.
I realize that over the past weekend, our nation endured a real tragedy that took the lives of six people and wounding more than dozen more. And although this pales in comparison, writing about it brings me some comfort.
In closing, I'd like to share one of my favorite pictures of my beautiful little girl. It was taken when she was just a year or two old, and we were out playing hide-and-seek in the mountains. She had just found me.
One day, I hope to find her again, too.
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