This is a tribute: to my dog Harley. That's right, I'm a sap. But Harley is now dead. We had him for half of my life, 13 years. He was a good dog. Not nasty like some dogs. You didn't walk away with a nasty smelling hand after petting him, he didn't lick his butt, he didn't roll in poo, he didn't eat poo, he didn't have raging hormones (I'll leave it at that), he didn't sniff people's crotches, kiss their faces - he was a curtious dog and wanted to please...most of the time. We found out from neighbors that he wasn't the saint he presented himself as. Example: we thought he was great at staying home: turns out he would go around the block and visit all the dogs before we would get up in the morning. or 2) we thought he was really good with our cat and kittens. Turns out, our next door neighbour took one of the kittens to save it from Harley who, when we were not at home, would play with them but tossing them into the air and catch them on his back.
Harley was a good friend of mine and definitely a reason to go home. Sometimes, you just need a dog and to love and be loved by a dog.
Harley was old and so we knew that he had to be put down. He was deaf in one ear - pretty sure his eyes weren't the greatest - he usually needed to sniff me in order to confirm it was in fact me. He lost bowel control (poor guy), his legs would give out because of arthritis (he did a nose dive out of the car at the vet...very sad) and his body was just wasting away. The problem is, we knew he was in pain but he was a really happy dog who would try to act young, but had a body that held him back.
I went home to be there to put him down. He was my parent's dog but his loyalties were mine. He spent all night trying to console me. Cuddling and licking the salt off my feet and legs - which normally he would cuddle but then leave after a bit because it was "too hot." But he didn't leave me. In the vet clinic - I sat on the floor crying and he came and just buried his head into me. When he actually did get the last shot - it was super fast, (less than a minute) he was lying on the counter and mom and I were standing beside him petting his back turned his head around back to me and nuzzled his head into me and died - I didn't know he was gone. I just stood there, petting him, waiting for him to raise his head. Turns out we got what we paid for...
1 comment:
It is amazing how much of a part of the family dogs become and how hard it is to let them go. I still remember when Snuffles died. I don't know if you do, but it was my CIT summer, and my mom didn't have the heart to tell us over the phone so she told us when we were in P-ville for the night. I remember coming back to campf and when you asked me what was wrong, I proceeded to cry in your arms for like an hour. I still remember that night, and was so thankful that you told me it was ok to be so upset about the death of a dog...
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