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hizgeorgiapeach -> RE: Goodbye, old friend... (7/23/2008 6:37:54 PM)
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I keep reminding myself that what got done was best for him. He Earned a good long uninterupted sleep. (and maybe if I remind myself of that frequently enough for the next few days, while I adjust to having a house devoid of him where he's been for so long, I'll be able to cope without getting emotional about it again. I doubt it, but I can always hope, right?)
I don't know whether I'll replace him or not. Every time I have one of my various furbabies die for whatever reason - illness that can't be medicated back to health, accident, old age - doesn't matter what the reason, really - I tell myself I'm absolutely Not going to put myself through it again. So far, through all the various pets over all the years, I haven't Quite managed to stick to that resolve. Cats inevitably find their way to my doorstep, and then inside after I start feeding them telling myself I'm NOT going to take them in and make them part of the family. With the dogs, it's been a bit different though. When I had Dorthey and Ruby - half wolf littermates that I got when they were weaned - they were given to me as a birthday present. (The litter had been born on my b-day, and the person who gave them knew that I have a "thang" for Wolves.) Dorthey wouldn't stay in the yard, and got herself hit - Ruby got into a fight with a stray that jumped the fence into her yard (yes HER yard - and while it was Her's she let Everyone who trod there know they remained through her good will!) and the wounds were to severe to save her.
Griz was originally Daddy's Dog - what he has been to me for the past 2 years, since dad's illness - he was to dad for the first 13 years. He liked me, tolerated my kids, liked my mom, didn't much want anything to do with my brother - and by all the gods created by humanity, it was NOT wise for anyone other than us to even Consider going into the yard when he was outside. Lil frufru type dogs - he considered those a high protein snack. But up until they died, my mom's cats had him Thoroughly intimidated - he watched where he walked when he was in the house, and gave them plenty of berth going around them! Up until mom's last cat died a few years ago, at the ripe old age of 25, I had never considered the possibility of a dog Mourning for a cat - but he did. When Bobby was gone, he moped around for 3 weeks not wanting to play and reluctant to eat, looking for her. I put off letting Griz go to his rest as much because he was Dad's Dog as because the idea was so painful. I finally went to the nursing home that dad lives in now, told him what was going on with Griz's health, and asked him if he wanted a chance to come home and say his goodbyes. I went over there Monday and picked him up and brought him back here for a couple of hours, and he and Griz just sat there for most of it, Griz's head in dad's lap while he drooled a bit (the dog, not dad) looking each other in the eye. Dad finally nodded, pointed to the back door, and when Griz went to wait there told me "Take me back to the nursing center - then come home and do what needs to be done." and headed out to the car to wait for me. It was like... I don't know how to describe it. Like the two of them sat there in physically silent yet completely active mental communion, reliving the parts of the past 15 years while Griz has been with us. And once what needed to be "said" had been - they went their seperate ways and neither one looked back.
Several years ago - a few years before my mom died - a rather amusing incident happened. Well, amusing looking back anyway. At the time, Griz tended to sleep in the hallway in front of the bedroom door. He was a very BLACK dog - if the lights were out at night, there was Absolutely No seeing him where he was laying. Mom got up - 2am - headed to the kitchen to get a drink. She knew where Griz was because she could hear him Snoring (yes - he snored - frequently, and to the point of rattling windows at times.) She got her water, turned the kitchen light back off, headed back to bed - and promptly fell over Griz, who had moved from the hallway to the living room while she was in the kitchen,without ever once stopping snoring according to what mom told us the next day, after the doctor had finished putting her broken arm in a cast.
He was a nut. He was a bit of a pain in the rump at times as well - because like most old men, about half way through the night, he'd need to get up and go piss. Only since he slept right next to my bed, he'd get up and start nudging my elbow (or the small of my back, or my leg - whatever he could reach without actually getting On the bed!) to wake me up - wait until he was sure that I actually Was Awake - then head for the door to the backyard. But ya know - the nights of lost sleep, or interupted sleep - were worth it for everything else that he brought with him, in the way of joy.
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