So life has taken a weird little bend for me. There are no dogs at my feet, waiting to be fed, to snuggle up with, barking at who knows what, etc. No furry little friends in my home.
I can't remember another time in my life when this was so.
Nikko, who was a hyperactive little schnauzer mix became ill after 16 years of driving me crazy. Her 17th year was a painful one for her and 40 days before she would be officially 17 she had stopped eating, was skin and bones and it was apparent that she would not survive this. I wanted her to die at home, so loved and nursed her, but after a week I couldn't bear her suffering and Sean and I brought her to the vet's to end it for her. I cry as I write, even though it was many months ago.
Wrapped in a blanket, with me holding her, we were brought into a special room in the back of the veterinarian practice. The vet explained the procedure. She was first given a sedative, after we loved on her and told her to say "hello" to all our furry loved ones that had gone on before her. We cried, and the sedative was administered. Then the fatal shot. We couldn't hold her during that one, so watched as she slipped into death on the sterile stainless table.
Sean and I fell into each others' arms and truly and sincerely bawled. We were graciously left alone during this. Eventually, the staff returned and offered us a little coffin shaped box the put her in so we could bring her home. I dropped Sean off at work, and returned home to bury her. I found a nice place in the yard and dug a deep hole, put her into it, covered it and then made it pretty with a border.
I was glad she wasn't suffering anymore, but my heart was broken. Is STILL broken. There was a space that was empty in our daily routines, constantly reminding me that my constant companion of almost 17 years now lived in my memories and heart. My companion, moving and living with me in three states, growing up with my children, comforting me through one divorce was now resting.
Rocko was a little lost when Nikko didn't return. Nikko was already with us for several years before Rocko entered the picture, so waited patiently for Nikko to go outside, or get treats or cuddle up for bed or to watch TV. He wandered around outside, having no one to find the treats I threw out into the yard with. He waited by the food bowl for Nikko, so he could start eating.
This fall, Rocko. who was close to 13, became suddenly ill, and within 24 hours, I found him dead on my bedroom floor. As hard as it was for me to watch the slow decline of Nikko, the suddenness of Rocko's death was a shock. I'm glad he didn't suffer as Nikko did. I miss him.
My home, my life, well, they feel strange without Nikko and Rocko. More than just the lack of happy greetings when opening the front door upon returning. More than missing our morning rituals and the constant adoration in their eyes as they watch from their napping places as I putter around the house, or our cuddle snuggle scritchy scratchy times. I don't ever remember not having a furry little love underfoot in the kitchen or at my feet under the table, tripping me. Ever. For the first time in my life, there is no dog friend wagging his tail when I finally wake up, excited to start the day, rushing me along to join in the fun.
I learned some things from watching my dogs age and die. Nikko evidently suffered the agonies of arthritis, but she still had work to do...chasing the squirrels out of the yard and sniffing the boundaries and telling the neighbors where those boundaries were, with tail wagging and eyes sparkling. Despite the pain. As I age, I know I will not be immune to the aches and pains either. Nikko reminds me that I can let that stop me, or still chase squirrels and be happy. Or take an extra nap, and still be happy. Or enjoy my people and still be happy. Nikko taught me perserverence. Rocko taught me loyalty. He never left my side if he could help it. Rocko wouldn't eat if I wasn't there, and I had to be in the same room for him to drop his guard and eat. No matter where I was, there he was. It was his job.
As my dogs aged and I was mindfully preparing for just this time, I told my brother I don't think I would ever have another dog. He laughed and replied he just couldn't see that happening, that I was one of those "dog people" who would always enjoy a dog companion.
I think I was right. I don't want another dog. I think I am done with pets. The cat is old. We are not looking at a long future with him and I think he will be our last furry companion. I always wondered about people who didn't have pets, how they could live a fulfilled life without one. Guess I'll be finding out.
Peace,
Elfscooter
I
No comments:
Post a Comment