It was May 15, 2013. This is the first time I've been able to write about it. I've thought a lot about it. I've told people about it. But for some reason, I needed time before I could share it here on the blog.
I watched my husband leave for the school bus with the children in tow. As he left the yard he bent and said one last good bye to our old dog, Baka. He snapped this picture.
I loaded up the two little kids and got them in their car seats then loaded Baka in the front seat next to me.
The seizers had started coming so fast that he didn't have time to recover. He was unaware of where he was or who we were. He had paced the small fenced area for three days without rest. Each time he did try and go to sleep he would have another seizer and the cycle would start all over again. It was time.
He paniced in the car. He usually loves the car. He was eager to meet the "new" people at the vet. He usually panics in the vet.
We buried him under a tree in the back yard. I planted bleeding hearts over him.
He was 14 years old.
I didn't realize how much of my daily life was spent making sure Baka was ok. Anyone who has delt with epilepsy knows. It was harder to not have him there than I thought. I wanted another dog.
It was in July that I learned that a neighbor had puppies. Golden retrievers. Exactly what we wanted. We had looked and looked in the local shelters all over Montana. But the shelters around here have fewer dogs than we expected. We knew we wanted breed that would be great with strangers. This is a guest ranch after all.
Jessy came home just a week later. The last week in July. A crazy week for us because we were running back and forth from town with kids in summer theatre camp plus we had company.
As I told my daughter after we first picked her out, she doesn't fill the hole that Baka left in our hearts. She just helps our hearts fill with more love.
Now if we can just get her potty trained! And to quit jumping on us, Knocking Bunny down, Biting, Oh those teeth are sharp!
Kristen: thanks for sharing. We said goodbye this winter to Gus Lucky, our 13.5 year old black lab that we'd found tossed on the road when I was pregnant with my son (Emmit, who you met at the Ranch and is now 13). We named him Gus Lucky because we were all lucky to have found him--and, as luck would have it, when Emmit was 18 months, Gus saved his life. We had to have Gus put down and I am grateful to have said goodbye to him and to all that he brought him over the years. Goodbyes bring new beginnings. I like the bleeding hearts memorial--I have to find something to remember our dear dog too.
ReplyDeleteThat's the hardest. I remember having to put our dog down that we grew up with and it was the hardest thing ever. Thinking of you today!
ReplyDeleteSo sorry for the loss of your fur-baby! And welcome to the new one!
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