The Death of Chelsea

We "put down" our dog of almost 15 years last Sunday.  Saturday we walked with her over a mile.  That night her breathing was haphazard, and by the next day she refused to eat or drink water.  We knew she was going, but it was still traumatic.

We all got to say goodbye to her for a few hours out on the lawn, with the sun shining down on beautiful spring day.  We told her we loved her, and it was ok for her to leave.  That we appreciated her, and we discussed why, and that we would see her again.  We all cried and laughed, and it was obvious her spirit was leaving.

I had never had a dog growing up, so she was a treat for me.  When I wanted to do my hikes of 5 miles or so, my wife and kids had no interest, but she was thrilled to join me, and was always so well behaved, I usually had her off her leash for the whole walk.  She even patiently waited while I did my tree hugging thing, and then bound about as we started to walk again.

I also had never been present when a pet was put down.  She really disliked the vet's office, or any office, and the vet was nice enough to come out to the back of our vehicle and administer the shot.  Then we drove out to my wife's sister's farm and buried her in some of the richest dirt I've ever seen, surrounded by trees.  The sunset on our way back was incredible, and we felt at peace.  Like, everything happened in divine order, which it did.

Yet, when we walked in the door, her ghost still roamed.  Not only were her things still there, but we, on some level, expected her to greet us at the door.  When the doorbell rang, we missed the bark,  When my daughter dropped food on the floor, I had to catch myself from calling "Chelsea" to have her clean it up, and get a treat.  My wife heard her nails on the wood floor at bedtime, waiting to come in and lay by the bed.

The grief was a beautiful, deep river running under the surface of our day, but occasionally surfacing to release some of it's water from our tear ducts.  I received a condolence card from a neighbor, and I'm not even much for cards, and I cried when I opened it; both for the thoughtfulness and to let the river spring forth for a while.  The grief has a rhythm of it's own, unrelated to our wishes and perceived truths, and we just have to be with it-see what gifts it's waters offer to our souls.

I received this email a few months ago, and I thought it was perfect to add to this blog entry:



A Dog's Purpose (from a 6-year-old).




Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine
a
ten-year-old Irish Wolfhound named Belker. The
dog's owners, Ron,
his wife,
Lisa, and their
little boy, Shane, were all very attached to
Belker,
and
they were hoping for a
miracle.

.

I examined Belker and found he was dying of
cancer. I told the
family we couldn't do anything
for Belker, and offered to perform
the
euthanasia
procedure for the old dog in their home.

As we made
arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it

would be good for six-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They

felt
as though Shane might learn something from the
experience.

The next day, I felt the familiar catch in
my throat as Belker's
family surrounded him. Shane seemed
so calm, petting the old dog
for the last time, that
I wondered if he understood what was going
on.
Within
a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away.

The
little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without
any
difficulty or confusion. We sat together for a while
after
Belker's death, wondering aloud about the sad
fact that animal
lives are
shorter than human
lives. Shane, who had been listening quietly,
piped

up, "I know why."

Startled, we all turned to him. What
came out of his mouth next
stunned me. I'd never heard a
more comforting explanation.

He said, "People are born
so that they can learn how to live a good
life -- like
loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?"
The
six-year-old continued, "Well, dogs already know how to do
that,
so they don't have to stay as
long."

Remember, if a dog was the teacher you would
learn things like:

When loved ones come home, always
run to greet them.

Never pass up the opportunity to go
for a joyride.

Allow the experience of fresh air and
the wind in your face to
be pure
ecstasy.

Take naps.

Stretch
before rising.

Run, romp, and play
daily.

Thrive on attention and let people touch
you.

Avoid biting when a simple growl will
do.

On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the
grass.

On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under
a shady tree.

When you're happy, dance around and wag
your entire body.

Delight in the simple joy of a long
walk.

Be loyal.

Never
pretend to be something you're not.

When someone is
having a bad day, be silent, sit close by and
nuzzle them
gently.