I have been deeply touched by this woman’s story. I wanted to share it in order to raise awareness of flying with pets.
Bea, perhaps you are playing with my Bay, frolicking happily in God’s Garden above. May your death not be in vain.
Category: Dogs
I’ve Never Felt Pain Like This Before….
On August 29th, 2012, at 8:30 am, my beloved dog passed away in my arms.
It was so sudden I didn’t want to believe it.
Still don’t.
I can’t remember when I’ve cried this much.
Continuously.
I love her. Always will. She is in my heart. But I still yearn for here by my side.
I have not known pain like this before.
I have a small family. Those who have passed away around me I was never close to.
Haven’t lost my mom or my dad yet.
She was my heart. My first baby. She was the one everyone wanted to take home.
I remember picking her out. She ran from me, chasing after her sisters and her brother, and I grabbed her.
And didn’t let go.
Until that day.
But I haven’t let go. Still clinging to her as if she were here.
But now it’s to her brother. Who has just as much (if not more) of a broken heart as I do.
I told him I’d cry for him. But I know he’s crying on the inside; I’m only crying on the out.
I tear up every time I think of her. I try not to but it’s hard. So much reminds me of her.
We took pictures the day before we took her to the vet. We clung to the vet’s positive words (which weren’t many) but we hoped and we prayed and we prayed some more.
And I, at least, begged.
That morning I knew she wasn’t getting better.
I prayed over her to get better for ME. Not for her. But for ME.
Selfish, isn’t it?
She kept following me (like she always did) and I told her not to. To rest and get better.
But God granted me the privilege of holding her as she left this world. Of crying, “Please, God, no. Don’t take her.” Of showering her with my tears as her heart took its final beat.
But it was time. I just didn’t want to admit it.
I love her. Always will.
And I just wanted to share some pictures of her.
I wish I could share more.
Pictures of her and my kids. Pictures of her and me. On the day before she died.
But those are sacred. Just between her and me and my family.
These are pictures of just her.
I love her. Always will.
One of the Hardest Things in Life is Knowing Your Dog is Dying and Watching Her Do So…
My dog is old. Very old for her breed.
Starting about a month ago, she started not eating a lot. Then she refused the dog food she’s been eating for years so I switched. Now, I have to spoon feed her to get her to eat. I have to call her out of her bed. She struggles to get up. I choke up every time…
Last night, her breathing became labored. I scoured the internet, looking for hope.
All I found was forebodings.
I realize every passing day is borrowed time with her. I pet her every chance I get. I pray over her. I beseech God for a miracle even though I know it’s a pipe dream. I wish I could do something to make her better.
She has been with me for almost 1/3 of my life. She has seen all of my most cherished moments in life: getting married and having my three beautiful children. She was there through it all. I cannot imagine her absence in my life…
The depth of my love for my dog is indescribable. Her passing will devastate me. It absolutely will.
I pray, “God, let her be the first thing to greet me in heaven when I arrive.”
It’s the only comfort I get.
And that’s not any at all…
Hachiko: The True Story of a Loyal Dog
Some of you may remember my previous review of a similar book entitled Hachiko Waits by Leslea Newman.
This is a much shorter picture book version of the same story written by Pamela S Turner and illustrated by Yan Nascimbene.
It relates the major details of the story about a dog named Hachiko owned by Professor Ueno who waits for the Professor every day at the train station to arrive home from work.
One day Professor Ueno does not come home, having died at his place of work, a nearby University, that day.
But still Hachiko waits. And he waits and he waits and he waits.
“Hachiko comes back to the house (Professo Ueno’s house) every night to sleep on the porch. But in the morning, he walks to the station just like he did with Dr. Ueno. When the last train leaves the station, he returns home.”
He waits every day at the train station until his death at the Shibuya Station almost 10 years later.
A statue now stands in the station very near where Hachiko used to wait, honoring his loyalty and undying devotion.
This site has great information on the story and if you scroll down to the bottom pictures of the real Hachiko:
http://www.vickiwongandhachi.com/
This is a good site as well: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hachikō
I love this story. It illustrates why many of us are dog owners in this country and what an integral part they play in our lives. It appeals to us because I think as humans we struggle with loyalty; whereas, dogs don’t. They don’t think about it. They just are.
Something we deeply desire as well.
This is how I picture Hachi waiting:
What Do You Do if You are Awakened by Your 200-lb Baby?
It hit me like a ton of bricks.
My chest suddenly felt weighed down. I opened my eyes and didn’t see anything. I moved my hand to rub the area that hurt and then I felt it: fur.
Suddenly, the room lit up, a BOOM resounded in my ear, and hail was hitting the roof with a steady pounding.
I began to pet my 200-lb male English Mastiff who was lying across my chest and shivering in fear.
The room continued to be intermittently lit up. Thunder roared. The rain continued.
I forced my dog off of me and he followed me into the kitchen where I have the best view of the night sky. Yep, definitely a lightning storm. The kind of lightning storm you only see once every 3-4 years. Lightning was zig-zagging everywhere, lighting up the Heavens. Thunder was almost constant. Hail would mix with periods of just rain.
I went back to bed, my baby close behind. He jumped back up, stepping on my foot in the process, and laid right next to me, his massive head on my side.
Then he jumped down, stepping over me once again and this time missing me somehow, and after a minute was back with his head in my face.
He jumped up again (after nuzzling me for a moment) and laid back down again.
This repeated itself for the entire length of the storm (about an hour).
I couldn’t yell at my poor dog. After all, he didn’t understand. I often wonder what goes through his mind when he hears those loud booms from Heaven. I know he doesn’t have a concept of dying so it’s not that. But what does drive him to seek me out? Maybe it’s like Chicken Little–The sky is falling, the sky is falling!!
Maybe it’s pure instinct; instinct that drives him to his leader and protector (me) when he’s scared, confused, or befuddled.
If he could, he would have climbed up into my body and cowered until he deemed it safe to emerge.
I did the only thing I could do: tried to sleep in-between his antics.
Poor thing. This is my dog whom we got at age 4 months from a breeder and when we got him he had a huge gash on his ear. So, I’ve always inferred he was either abused or left outside with other dogs. He’s also afraid of people. Most find this amusing as he does weigh 200 pounds.
He’s a big dog with just a big of heart. But you have to earn his love. He stays away from everyone excepting those in his inner circle.
He’s a big lump of fur who’s precious when he’s scared and needs his mama.
Just like my other human babies. But he’s my baby too.
The Mightiest Heart
The Mightiest Heart is a kids book by Lynn Cullen. It tells the tale of a loyal Irish Wolfhound, Gelert, to his master, Prince Llywelyn. One day Gelert stays behind while Prince Llywelyn goes hunting. When the Prince returns, Gelert is all bloody and his son is missing. He blames the dog who runs away only to rescue the Prince once more when he is in danger. The Prince finds his son and the body of a dead wolf nearby.
When the Llywelyn’s son grows up and finds a puppy (presumably Gelert’s child), the Prince tells him he may keep him only if “You never let him go.” He continues, “The mightiest heart can come in the humblest vessel.”
I have read this story before where instead of Gelert running away, the Prince kills the dog with his sword before he finds out his son is alive. This is the traditional tale. I like this version better merely because my daughter can’t stand it when animals die in stories but the traditional one is much more poignant.
It highlights how we all jump to conclusions, react when we shouldn’t, do things we shouldn’t, only to find out later we were wrong, and regret our choices made. I especially like this one because this dog had shown no reason to doubt it in the past and yet our human mind still thinks the worst.
This is based on a true story. The Prince really lived in the twelfth and thirteenth century and he had an Irish Wolfhound named Gelert. In fact, the town of Beddgelert in Wales, United Kingdom is named for the dog where an actual grave site exists purported to be the resting spot of the real Gelert. Fascinating stuff.
Irish Wolfhounds were prized in the Middle Ages for their hunting capabilities and given to royalty as gifts.
Dog owners know how loyal dogs are and uncharacteristic behavior usually has a very good reason behind it.
Personally, I like this tale because we almost got Irish Wolfhounds instead of English Mastiffs. They are one of my favorite breeds and are still on my short list of dogs to own in the future. I love loyal breed dogs, guard dogs, and big dogs–all of which describe these breeds best.
Here’s a link to the story with photos of the grave:
http://www.rohan-irishwolfhounds.com/Myths%20and%20Legends.htm
A Dog’s Life
As I sit here typing this, my male Mastiff is lying by my side (he’s really in my way but he’s too cute to make him move).
There are many days I want a dog’s life. How rough can it be when your food and water appear magically every day (free room and board), you can sleep wherever you want whenever you want, you lie around in the sun and throw out a few barks here and there, and you have no worries? You lead a great life, loved by the family, and petted every now and then.
You really don’t have to do anything. Looking cute helps and being adorable. Barking when the doorbell rings helps to alert your owners. Wagging your tail when your owners return home. Occasional lick here and there to show appreciation.
Then it’s back to bed until dinner time.
Quite an easy day, wouldn’t you agree?
The Greatness of Dogs
I can always tell couples who don’t have kids by examining how they treat their dogs. If you don’t have kids, your dogs are your babies. I know because I used to be one of these people. Once kids come along, however, dogs disappear into the background. No more long walks or endless games of fetch. You just don’t have the time anymore.
For quite a while, my poor dogs got ignored–extensively. My first two kids are only 16 months apart so I had no time there for a while. Yet the great thing about dogs is they are loyal to the end and take what they can get. My dogs still loved me every bit as much as they did before kids. Yeah, their lives weren’t quite as exciting as before but they didn’t care. As long as they had their owners, they were content with life.
Then I read “Marley and Me” by John Grogan a few years ago, which really awakened me back up to the importance of dogs in my life.
Yeah, they are old and just one more thing to do on top of the endless chores of taking care of babies. But I love them–love them to the day they die and beyond–and so do my kids. If you even mention how our dogs are close to death, my oldest gets upset. She defends her dogs to the bitter end and since she has never known life without them, she wants nothing else.
I am definitely not looking forward to the day we all have to say good-bye. I think the whole family will be down in the dumps for quite a while. But it will be a good life lesson–for all of us. How you should cherish the days of your life before one day you are gone. How you can live in the moment, content with whatever you have and whatever you are given. “Creatures of Being” as Eckhart Tolle calls them.
I firmly believe all dogs do go to heaven and I tell my kids that. They may be gone for now but they will be in heaven waiting for us just as loyal as they were on Earth. I’m sure we’ll get a huge tail wagging and licking when we arrive. Maybe even we’ll be able to talk to them too and they can tell us what they really think (scary, huh?).
So this is for all the loyal dogs out there who can’t imagine life without their owners and their owners who can’t imagine life without their dogs.
I Wish Dogs (and God) Could Speak
I’ m up early with the goal of finishing The Whiskey Rebels since I’ve finished my final edit on my book when I’m bothered by my male mastiff. I just took him out and I couldn’t tell what he wanted so I shooed him off. He kept doing this and I thought he just wanted to go sniff around outside. He was acting absurdly weird the other day and we went out 10 times. So I ignored him and he pooped in the middle of my floor. Poor puppy! Next time, I’ll know.
During this time, I was petting him, wishing he’d speak and tell me, “Hey, Mom! I gotta poop!” Then, it would have been easy. I would have known what he had wanted from me and what he was trying to say.
So I wish God (whom I know does speak and very similarly to my dog–in cues and such) would speak as well. I just finished my editing book again and am facing querying again, which I am not looking forward to. I just wish God would lead me to the right agent. I keep praying this, over and over. I’m just so frustrated right now with a lot of things with regards to getting my book published that I do want to quit (although I doubt I ever will). Quitting is definitely easier. Yet, I have worked so hard on this project, I have to try, even though I have no desire at times.
Ode To the Dogs in My Life
Isn’t it amazing how our pets always know what we are feeling?
My male English Mastiff just came up to me and wanted some pets (he doesn’t kiss though). So, I petted him. It’s like he knew that his Mommy was dealing with some things and wasn’t in the best of moods and needed some love.
The thing about my male mastiff is that no other family would take him. He’s almost 200 pounds, scared of people (we think he was beaten as a puppy), and in his old age, not favorable to other dogs. He slobs, drools, sheds like no tomorrow, and in general takes up a lot of space. Yet, he’s loved in this house, especially by my kids. He belongs here and even though I sometimes complain about how much trouble he is, no one wants him gone.
His undying devotion and love is proof that he is worth it. I have no doubt he’d die to protect his family. His love is unconditional, even when Mommy accidentally slammed the door on his tail. He’s always there when you need him.
The same goes for my female mastiff. She’s the lover in the family. She kisses and likes other people. But she’s old too and spends a lot of time on our bed. Yet, when my son curls up with her at night, we can’t imagine our lives without her. Despite the fact we now like in an apartment where I have to pick up their poops and have no dog door so I have to take them out myself, I do it willingly for all they do for me and my family.
Aren’t pets the greatest?