more than half of her storied life happened in this house, on the bike path, in the back yard.
A counter surfing, compost eating, school bag destroying, 75# lap dog, and my youngest's snuggle buddy, my wife's running partner, my friend.
Nothing really more awful or emotional right now.
She came to us from a friend all grown up... the last few days have been not easy, but this summer she had more time with the girls than any other time, she was intensely loved all the way to the end.
I didn't sleep much at all last night and when i did it was dreams of lucy, or dogs... the smell lingers.
I laid her in the back of the wagon to drive over to the animal hospital, on four soft layers of packing blankets for the tearful less than 1 mile drive. Pulled in and parked in the shade, opened the passenger door and gave her some love and they came out, expecting our arrival. brought a blanket out for me to wrap her still up in. I've carried her up the stairs most every night, and down in the morning, and sometimes right outside. Lots of carrying of the big Lucy dog. For a dog who you essentially couldn't pick up a year ago (she wouldn't let you and would fight and shake and claw to get free) the only way to get around is with me carrying her.
Dogs are different. The connections we make are special, the bonds unique. She was my constant cooking companion, my shawdow as soon as I got home. Always wanted to be in the same room with me or Erin.
I don't really have to explain it most people get it.
I've never had to make this decision before. Never had to decide when it was time. Analytically, it was time, I can pull back the emotions and know she was suffering, her mental capacity was diminishing fast and her physical capacity was nearly gone.
She lost most of her hearing a while ago. For a dog who barked defensively anytime a stranger (or the postman) got w/in 20' of the house (outside even with all the windows closed) to be surprised when I opened the door from the bike room and woke her up 3' away. She didn't like being surprised, she gave her guilty sheepish smirck like "oops i was supposed to know you where here first."
So many stories I guess. How do you capture them all. You can't. I can't. Well not true, I could maybe capture quite a few of them. Like the Friday before NBX when LVG drove up to stay with us. Both of us perked up when we hear the familiar rattle of a B4V TDI turn onto the street. We knew that sound.
This winter in Virginia she was left in our bedroom there. She opened the door and let her self out (and pooped in the basement on the rug). RUGS. Man did she ever prefer to pee on Rugs. I think it was the lack of spashing maybe. She was very particular.
Looking back, she's been in old age decline for a year or so, maybe more. Slow, nothing acute, just getting old. Thirteen and a half is pretty old for a big dog. Sure there are plenty who live longer, but maybe more that don't.
A full life did Lucy have. A life full of love and affection.
She was a perfect fit here.
The void here now is huge, indescribable.
I completely doubled over in tears when opened the door and caught myself looking for her in her spot when i got back to the house this morning... how many days or weeks will that habbit take to fade.
At the Vet I carried her in from the car wrapped in the old soft blanket brought out for her. Lucy hated the vet. Had to be dragged in there, literally usually. She's too big to lay on the table in the room, so an extra blanket was placed on the floor and I gentely set her down. She was relaxed. Maybe she knew. They know don't they. All the snuggles, her face was damp from my tears by the time I left. The sedative was almost enough... It was her time, I don't want to go through the painful last week/few days. mostly last couple days. Her body had more or less shut down.
The process was gradual i guess, sitting here reflecting and sharing the full impact on how much she'd changed is sinking in.
But there was always that warm Lucy love, that spirit, it was there. But this morning especially, and some last night, a new painful stress was there.
It was time. I said good bye.
I rubbed her soft ears, forehead to forehead, crouched on the floor and cried. She passed quickly... she shuffled easily and painlessly off this mortal coil. I left the room. A side exam room, where the old entrance used to be. The door Lucy had gone in and out of the last time she was there. Today with the vet's remodel this was a small exam room, maybe for this purpose, but there was an outside door. I was given as much time as I needed with her after she drew her last breath and was told to just slip out the door when I was ready.
I did. and sat in the car, and cried again.
When I could see clearly enough I started the car and the radio came on, a song that Lindsey called her favorite song as we were driving to the Farm on Monday... as soon as i started the car the lyrics were at this part of the song:
"My summer, summer, my sweet summer is gone. My Sweet Summer is gone. Yeah she left in the morning..."
Lindsey and Lucy, inseperable, and that song comes on, at that spot, as I'm leaving the vet this morning.
Seven Years ago pretty much to the day this photo was captured of the two of them:
Seven amazing years...
We said good bye to her today... a for real good bye.
But the love she's left with us will never go away
heddwch
G
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