I knew it would be hard saying farewell to you. I minimized so much, thinking it would be the big things, like your presence. Last night when I went to bed, the same night that I let you rest my sweet dog, I felt your absence. And I miss you so much. The little things that are just routine for me are the hardest: Telling you I’ll be right back while I go upstairs and back down a couple of times while I carry my snacks and water and whatnot upstairs. And then I’m nervous while I’m upstairs about what you’re doing, if you’re scared, if you’re pottying in the house. When I come back in, I look for you and find you. And I say, hey bud, I’m right here. As I flip from the video I’m watching back to my book on my phone, setting it on the counter. Then I scan the counter to put everything I need to bring upstairs in one spot. I usually find you and pick you up first, then fill up my hands and head upstairs. I set you down and put the gate up. Then we come into my room and I lean on my bed. I look over to the treats and get your nighttime treats ready. Close the bag and give you one of the 3-4 treats you get every night at different times.
But tonight is different. I do all the movements, looking for you, listening for you, moving to grab your treats. And I don’t find you there, like you always were.
You were my forever 2-year old. Still not quite potty trained. Needy and needing my confirmation, affirmation, attention, help. But sometimes aloof like a teenager. You were always hot on my heels, following me around, tripping me up, all up under my ass all the time.
I thought I’d miss the big things. And I will. Like when you’d run with all your might and throw your tiny 12 pound body into me when I just got home – from work, a night out, a trip, or a walk to the mailbox. You always ran to me, hurling your little body at me, knowing I’d catch you and pick you up for some mashing on. And how you made your body so heavy as you hurled yourself through the air felt like a lot more than the 12 pounds you were – it felt like 40 pounds being thrown at me. You’ve been slowing down significantly over the last year though, so you threw your body at me a lot less and with less force. The last six months went by so fast and your decline was noticeable and sometimes jarring. You’ve been slower and sleeping more. You’ve been a bit less bouncy. But you didn’t complain. So I didn’t know if you were in pain until you were just done.
I notice how I move through the house now, expecting you to be there, predicting where I need to put my next step to avoid stepping on you or tripping over you, hitting my head on something, and dying alone. I notice that I’m trying to hurry with my bedtime routine because I know you’re tired and want to snuggle it up. And now, I’m doing these things without even thinking about it. I’m putting laundry away and expecting you to pop out from under my bed, me trying to avoid accidentally kicking you in the head as I move my feet. I woke up at 4:30am worrying about you, you hadn’t moved for a bit and I was worried you needed to go out to go potty. I’ll probably be doing these things for a while. You got me trained up good.
I’ve worked to be more gentle with you. I think I’ve always been gentle with you – except for yelling at you when you were being completely ridiculous. I know there were times that my behavior was scary or threatening to you and I am sorry about that. But, damn were you stubborn and ornery sometimes. The default operating system of a doxie. Oh my god! Remember when you were put on steroids? Good lord were you an asshole. It’s a good thing you were small cuz a large dog being an asshole would be hard to deal with. You would walk up your ramp to the couch, stop right beside me as I open the curtains, and start pooping. Yeah, steroids. Oof. Certainly the last year or so, I’ve been consciously more gentle with you and I regret nothing. You deserved to be spoiled. You had a rough little life before you came to live with us. That hoarding situation of 17 other dogs. Holy cow. How you survived that, to just end up in septic shock from having burns all over your body, I’ll never know. You wanted to live.
And because of your hoarding situation and probably being neglected and abused, you had some interesting behaviors and some annoying ones too. You hated men when you came and lived with me. You weren’t ever too fond of them but you stopped trying to attack them eventually. Children. You did NOT like small children. When you’d hear babies crying on TV, you’d growl and bark. When small children came by the house and vibrated their small child energy, you’d bite them – or try. You only got a hold of a couple kids and a few men. You did a good job protecting me from anything you thought was a threat. You were also a gulper of your food. I couldn’t feed you the same way I fed Rusty. I had to find ways for you to not inhale your food. But after your last dental, when you lost a bunch of rotten teeth, that dish was hard for you to get to your food. So, I started mixing in canned dog food with your kibble and putting it on a saucer for you. You really loved the rabbit stew canned food. It took you a little longer to eat but you made sure to clean your plate every day. Every night you got your treats, and you could count. If I shorted you on treats, you’d pace and whine until you got caught up on them. If someone had food in their hand and you could get to it or food was in a place you could reach, you’d snatch it up and eat it. You never missed a meal either. On your last day, you were disinterested in your food. That’s how I knew you weren’t going to be coming back from what was happening to you.
I still remember when we first brought you home. You were so curious about everything. The TV came on and you were all ears and eyes. The outdoors was weird for you. At first, you were so scared and didn’t like grass. But you were smart and it didn’t take long for you to get potty trained and love being outside in the sunshine. Whooowheee, did you HATE the rain. You don’t much care for snow either, but if I shoveled down to the grass, you were fine but you didn’t dawdle around either.
You were so naughty. Remember knocking over the kitchen garbage can? It was so full. And we’d just had ham for dinner, so there was a hambone in the garbage. Rusty knew better. He knew that if he fucked with what was in the trash, he’d be so sick. Rusty did that when he was a puppy and got so sick. I thought I was going to have to put him down, it was real bad. So he mostly stayed out of it. Sydney was so pissed. I came home from work and you looked like a cartoon fat wiener dog balloon, you were so bloated. You were shitting like a goose and farting it up for days! It was our second foray into how gross Oli could be. That first day when we brought you home, I was holding you and Rusty on my lap while I sat in grandma’s rocking chair and when I got up to move, I felt something wet on my leg. At first, I thought it was dog slobber but nope, it was diarrhea. You and your pooping problems. Little did I know at the time that this was my introduction to your weird pooping issues. I won’t miss that part for sure!
I know I did the very best for you that I could. So, while I am sad, I regret nothing about bringing you home with us (yeah, I know I’ve bitched), spending shit tons of money for your care (dog sitting, vet visits and tests, special food and more than I’ve spent on my own care), or letting you go today. I have no guilt. I’m just sad and miss you. You’ve been the best friend a girl could ask for, a little snarky sometimes but I get it. Me too.
There will never be another dog like you. Oli, you were an original weird ass little loveable dude and I miss you. The little things are the ones that sting. I expected the big things would level me, like not having you to snuggle up with but it’s the small moments, movements, and just your presence. And I’m sad because our last night together, you were so uncomfortable and miserable, we didn’t get to snuggle in peace. I’m sad that we didn’t get to snuggle much these last 36-48 hours. I just wanted you to feel safe and loved once you came to live with us but certainly I felt this more so these last couple years. And you felt those things. You wanted nothing more than to be with me, right next to me or as close to me as you could be all the time. It was so bad that if you were a human man, you’d have been kicked to the curb so long ago because it was a lot. It would have been too much coming from a human. But you were special and needed the extra love and assurances.
I hope you feel freer and that the other dogs like you. I hope there are no dogs that pick on you wherever you’re at, you deserve peace. And I hope you feel safe and are loved because I will always love you my little one. I love you and miss you buddy.
Grouchy in Paradise 