owl&bear

My brother called me at work this morning to tell me that our decrepit 17-year-old dog had a seizure that left her completely blind.

I decided to take a few hours off from work to have some time with the living (although blind) dog before they took her to the vet. I wanted to have a chance to touch her one last time, to feel her fur attached to a living, warm body, to give her some comfort in one of her last hours.

When I got home, my mom was upstairs drying her hair, and I waited at the bottom of the steps until she saw me. I hadn’t told anyone that I was coming home. When my mom saw me, she burst into tears. In 25 years, I’ve only seen my mother cry twice (including today). My brother was in the family room holding Penny on his lap. At that point, I realized that I was home less for the dog, more for my family.

We’ve been preparing for this for some time (three years, maybe?) as the dog’s health continued to deteriorate, but we could never bring ourselves to take her to the vet, justified as it probably would’ve been. I think it’s human nature to prolong events like these, even with the knowledge that we could put her out of her misery vs. risk a traumatic end (like today).

My brothers, who are three years younger than me, were especially opposed to euthanasia. I think that, in many ways, they saw it as an unwanted way to shut the door on their childhood. And it is.

She was never the greatest dog in the world. In her younger days, she was mainly attached to my mom, she barked loudly at strangers, and she wasn’t terribly affectionate (though never mean). Even in her later years, when she was only a shell of the energetic terrier that she once was, even when I swatted her sometimes out of frustration, even though her breath smelled like dead animals, even though she had little self control anymore, I still loved that little dog as I had for 2/3 of my life. She’s been my dog since I was 8.

So my mom and I dug Penny’s grave and then I went back to work.

When I came in, I checked my email. A co-worker had sent out about 14 emails with pictures and prices for her semi-recently-deceased mom’s furniture. Weird timing. Anyone want to buy a stinky old dog cushion and a hair-covered blanket with US Airways embroidered on it?

Anyone else have any relevant stories?