Good- Bye to Belle

Dogs are as much a part of my life as are my children. Loosing a pet is sometimes compared to the loss of a child. Having known several people who've experienced a child's death; I can say that I cannot really agree, but the grief for both is long-lasting. That is the part that I can agree with.

Last week, Belle, our little terrier mix started having intestinal problems. We dutifully took all the steps that one would when dealing with a sick dog. I didn't, however, call the vet. Deep in my heart I knew that she was dying and I hoped to keep her comfortable and at home until the end came. I prayed that she would go to sleep and not wake up. My prayers were answered, but not the way that I had hoped.

For several days we gave her Pepto-Bismol because I had read an article online about using it on dogs. She improved enough to eat and drink as usual, but the problems came back. We bought a nutritional supplement which she hated, but we kept dosing her hoping it would help. It didn't.

Yesterday morning she woke up and as I picked her up, she squealed and stiffened. I think that she had a small stroke, but afterward she rallied a bit. I knew that it was time for help so I called the vet. All day I watched and waited, wanting to savor every minute that we had with her. Belle slept curled up beside me while I checked my e-mail and read the newspaper. Unlike our human counterparts, she never complained about her ailments.

At the appointed time, we wrapped her in an a towel and made the short trip to the vet's office. On the way there, Gene said that he thought that maybe she had a virus or a bug of some sort. Hope, as is said, springs eternal. I just held her while silent tears rolled down my face. Pulling myself together I carried her into the waiting room. Now, anyone who has ever known her, would have marveled at Belle! She was never a lap dog nor was she a snuggler. That is until yesterday. She let me hold her close to my heart while we waited. Our time finally arrived and we took her into the examining room. Dear Dr. Jenni told us what we both knew; It was time to let her go. So, yes, my prayers were answered. Belle slept in our arms until her little dog heart stopped beating.

I've heard it said that one's hearing is the last sense to go. Remembering that, I told Belle how much we loved her and what a great friend to us she'd been for her 16 years of life. I don't know if she understood any of those words, but I said them anyway.

We will miss her, of that I'm sure. We already do. Her dish is banished from my sight as is her bed (rarely used since she slept at my feet in our bed). I looked for her when I took a shower because she always waited for me on the bath mat. There is a hole in my heart where once lived a fuzzy little terrier. Good-bye my sweet baby, Belle. We will love and miss you forever.

Lost

Ginger has not come home. I know in my heart that she is dead. Why? Because she was old, almost blind and deaf and lately, like me, she was having trouble with her legs. Animals will go away to die. People don't usually have that option. Dogs have it right, I think. They just go and slip quietly into the other world.

Lately she had been running a lot. I like to think it was a late rally. Maybe, when she slept she dreamed of being a puppy again and when she awoke, for a time, everything was working the way it did once upon a time. Last week she kept me awake with her running laps in our bedroom. I got out of bed and let her outside where she ran some more and then came inside. It was a sweet moment ; just she and I sharing a little dark time. Looking back, I wish I had cuddled her more. I hope she knew how much I loved her. She was never more than two feet away from me, even when I showered. Always waiting for me, always there. I know that she missed the hustle and bustle of the kids, but then so do I.

The highlight of her day was dinnertime. When Lars and Belle left her alone, she would lap at her dish and then rest for a bit. In her advanced age, eating required a lot of energy. Gene souped up her food so that she could sip most of it. Loosing some of her teeth was another sign of her age.

Last Sunday she wandered outside for her nightly business trip and didn't come back. We don't know how she left, but left she did. She wandered out of our lives as quietly as she wandered into it. We love and miss her and will always.