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This is a piece from the Marley and Me website. My sister lost her golden heart dog of 13.5 years in January. This is one of the things I sent to her while I grieved with her. I was also thinking on my 13 year old malumute/wolf Tammy that I lost three years ago.

"I acquired a brain injury in 1988 but I didn't get Sonny until 1996 at 5 weeks old. While I was improving with time, it wasn't until he came into my life that I had the courage to venture back out in the world and I bloomed. My gaiting and speech improved because I was forced to practice .. Sonny would accept nothing less and he would literally push me into people if that's what it took.

Well, my big, beautiful companion/friend/therapist/caregiver/assistant, Sonny, is gone. To say I'm bereft would be to understate what I'm feeling. I'm also scared because, on top of all the other things my boy did, he had taught himself to alert to when my suicidal depression was getting active again. He knew before I knew it was happening myself.

When I came home Saturday evening from a gig at a Christmas event (thanks to the work Sonny did, I have been able to return to singing jazz & blues), it was obvious something was wrong. I, with great difficulty (because of one aspect of my disability), got him into the truck and to the emergency clinic. By the time we got there, my boy was in big trouble. The vet came in to let me know that he had lost any feeling in his back legs. She also suspected that there was something else going on as well. She thought that one of his tumors had probably ruptured and that he was bleeding internally hence gums the color of putty. I had to make the decision that I've been dreading .. and that was to put him down. They brought him into a different room so that I could spend time with him. I told him how much I loved him and what a wonderful dog he was and then they came in. I had my nose on his nose and we were looking directly into each other's eyes and I was just telling him how much I loved him and how great he was. I heard him stop breathing and a few seconds later his heart also stopped and suddenly my dog was no more.

They let me stay with him and I did .. for about 30 minutes. I stroked him and kissed him and just wrapped my arms around him and held him. Walking out leaving him there was horrible. Actually, it took me 4 trys before I could look back and not return for a final hug/kiss/touch. The vet told me that she felt I'd made the best decision for him but that felt like small consolation driving away without him.

We didn't get to look at Christmas lights this year, **** it! He loved doing that .. people thought it was positively weird but I'd ooh and aah about particular houses and he'd charge over to that side of the truck to look. Big ol' 113 pound Sonny was a push-over for moving reindeer and twinkle lights.

Now comes responsibility of picking up toys and blankets and bowls and trying to decide what to do with them ... I want to pile them on his bed and lay next to them and cry til I have no feeling left but if I did that I would never again leave my bed and that's the last thing Sonny would have wanted. So as Rudyard Kipling so eloquently said, "I am wounded but not slain. I shall lay me down and bleed awhile and then rise again to the fight."

...thinking of you Jackie, Bill and Miss Shadow. I also pray daily for Texas Tank and his Mom.

 

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:'(

That was beautiful.
 

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I can't read it. I'll start bawling at work and we don't want that.
 
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