12.11.1994-12.02.2008
Aka
11.12.1994-02.12.2008

My dog died on Monday. Noel. I don’t recall the last time I genuinely was this upset. The worst part is I can’t even express it because my mother (who is visiting me until Saturday) won’t let me.

Her health has been declining slowly over the past couple of years. In the recent months she even began to lose her hair. January I left praying that she would make it at least until my return. Unfortunately that was not the case.

She went to the vet a couple weeks ago and there looked to be hope. Her stomach has been descending at a rapid pace and someone actually decided to question it. They found out what was wrong (can’t recall the name) but it dealt with her pituitary gland. There were tumors on it that caused the nutrients to store in her stomach. Wednesday she was supposed to go in for x-rays to determine if the tumors could be removed or if the gland should be shrunk instead. Either would have increased her odds and halted the disease.

Unfortunately, she also developed a bladder infection and it greatly worsened over the past week. During the weekend she stopped eating. My Dad fed her snow as it was one of her favorite things to eat. He spent the entire weekend just holding and petting her. Monday he brought her into the vet. They said she likely wouldn’t make it another day and they suspected her diseases went farther than what was originally suspected and she was likely full of cancer of the pancreas and liver. Dad put her down (as the three of us discussed over Skype the previous day). She was injected with a tranquilizer to be followed with the final shot. The tranquilizer itself did her in. As he put it in his e-mail to me,

“I feel kind of empty but know it had to be done. You would not have wanted to see or be with her during those last hours. Your memories of her will be only when she was healthy.”
It’s for the best. It really is. I just don’t want her to be gone. A part of me knew the odds of her making it until May were diminishing. But I really wish I could have just seen her one last time. The irrational side of me thinks her health started to decline simply because I wasn’t there lately. Like I abandoned her.

This is the first pet where I’ve experienced their full life. I picked her out in 1994 for my Mom’s Christmas present. Our other dog, Tasha died. I remember that day too but I didn’t live through all periods of her life. I remember picking her out and holding her in my little eight year old hands. My mom crying when her Christmas present that year was a small collar. Picking out names. My brother and father bringing her home after Christmas.

Her obsession with popcorn and pizza. (yes, I realize it probably wasn’t good for her health). Her affinity for digging random holes when we lived in Elk River. Following me to the neighbor’s house whenever I’d go over to play. Her hating Buckles when we got him but loving to occasionally sleep on him. Words that got her excited. And even when her health started to decline how happy everyone became when she got extra life in her and would run to us.

“Luckily” she’s being cremated. Dad got a granite box for her ashes and we’ll determine what to do with the remains when I come home. Either keep them or bury them underneath a tree outside. Buckles apparently is doing okay. He was avoiding her the last couple days as if he knew she was very sick. Seems the same except occasionally will wander off looking.

The picture is the last one taken of her; on January 20th as a reminder of home from the parents to me.