On Saturday, August 21, 2010 I had to put down my beloved doggie girl, Gracie.
On August 1, I euthanized Lucy Lou, my wonderful dog. Lucy Lou was an older girl (see previous post) and in ill health. I had been expecting this day and while it came a few months sooner than I had hoped, it came never the less.
Two weeks later I adopted Sam, my goof ball, 1-year old pup from the local shelter. Gracie hadn't been eating and had been very lethargic since Lucy Lou died. I thought another dog might cheer both of us up. I also knew Gracie was over 10 years old and while she looked and acted like a pup, I figured she still had 4-6 years left. If I got another younger dog now, when Gracie died at a ripe old age, I would still have the other dog. Sam's charm took a few days, but in less than a week, Gracie was returning to her own self and eating again.
They had just started to play together. Sniffing each other and doing some little chasing of each other. While at my sister's house, having a wonderful early birthday celebration, I had both dogs out. While I am still now quite sure what happened, they either collided while running together or Sam jumped on Gracie in play, but whatever happened, Gracie's back was broken.
I knew immediately that she was seriously hurt. Hysterical and crying, I scooped my Gracie-girl up in my arms and ran into the house. Sue called the emergency vet clinic and Marlon and I drove. I knew it was bad. I had heard of this happening with two dogs playing. My worst nightmare came true. They could operate and she might be OK after a long recuperation. The cost would be well over $4,000 and there were no guarantees. So, wrapped in a little blanket, in the same room I had put Lucy Lou down less then 3 weeks earlier, Gracie crossed the Rainbow Bridge. I held her and the vet sat on the floor so she could die sitting in my lap. She pressed her head on my chest, looked up at me and licked my arm right before the injection. My sweet little Gracie was gone.
I won't go into how devastated I am. The sense of "why me?" with losing Phil in May and then two my dogs in less then 3 weeks. That is all my own personal pain. What I do want to write about is all that Gracie taught me.
Gracie was spoiled rotten, pampered, adored and loved.
Gracie was a smart, loving dog. She was half poodle (her smarts) and half Lhasa Apso (her protectiveness). While she could appear very aggressive when first meeting people, within 5 minutes she would be on their lap wanting their undivided attention and devotion. She could do darling tricks and I was still teaching her new tricks. She followed me around into every room and slept in my bed, curled up next to me.
But, what Gracie gave me - what she taught me - goes far beyond tricks.
Never having children, Gracie taught me how to really care for another little life, other than my own. For the first time in my life I had a little soul that depended completely on me. It changed my life for ever and for the good. Gracie taught me to put someone else before my self - a concept I knew and had done before, but now I lived every day. She depended on me. She taught me to be less self absorbed, less selfish.
Gracie's needs came before my own. This was a new concept for me. I couldn't be selfish with her. She needed to be fed, let out, groomed, played with, taught and loved. My life changed. I had to go directly home after work. I walked her, I played with her. I bought her food and treats. She sat next to me on my chair when I watched TV. Gracie taught me responsibility.
When I first got Gracie, I went bonkers. I had little outfits for her, I had winter coats made for her, she had Halloween costumes. She was the "child" I never had. Poor dog. She tolerated all of it. In fact, she knew how adorable she was and the dog clothes and coats made her feel even more like the princess she was becoming. Gracie taught me how to care for another being. She taught me tolerance.
Besides teaching her many tricks, Gracie knew probably between 40-50 words. Play, go get it, sit, stay, dance, bye bye, walk, car, night night, squirrel (her nemesis) to name a few. Plus she knew names of people such as Auntie Susie, David, Daddy, Auntie Mary Sue and momma. Although, I have to admit, Gracie learned fast and was so smart, this all took time. Gracie taught me patience.
Then there is the unconditional love. Gracie and I adored each other. As I walked in my house every night there she was - her little tail wagging so hard she could hardly stand. I talked to her like she was a person and on some level, she understood. She stayed closed to me though much laughter, many tears, my joys and my sorrows - she was always there, never judgemental, always understanding - always seeming to say, "I know, Momma, I know. And, I love you no matter what." Gracie taught me to be kinder, to listen better, to give my love more freely. She taught me not to judge others too harshly.
Pre-Lucy Lou, Gracie went every where with me. She loved riding in the car and visiting people. I joked, "Gracie is here to spread her love and to be adored!" And, she was. Gracie spread her love throughout my family. We are all grieving her untimely death. My friends, too, are shocked and saddened, both for little Gracie and for me, too, knowing how much I loved her. We all did.
I do need to mention what Lucy Lou taught me. Lucy Lou was completely deaf the last 2 years of her life. Yet, it didn't slow her down. She loved her walks, she played and she loved her belly rubs. She still gave great hugs. She adapted. She learned hand gestures and relied on facial expressions. She lived her life. She loved to sniff everything she possibly could and really enjoyed sitting in the yard enjoying the outdoors. Lucy Lou taught me perseverance and how to over come obstacles.
I loved Lucy Lou and now Sam, too (he makes it very difficult not to love him!). They are great dogs and enrich(ed) my life immensely. But, no matter how many dogs come in and out of my life, they will never be my little Gracie.
There is a little stepping stone with engraving outside my front door that I will always strive to live up to. It reads, "
May I always be the person my dog thinks I am." When I purchased it I thought of Gracie and how much she gives me and asks for so little in return.
Thank you, Gracie, for all that you gave me and all that you taught me, for all the love and for all of your crazy antics (and for putting up with mine). I know you are with Uncle Billy, Grandma and Grandpa and Phil and they are all giving you belly rubs and telling you just how adorable you are. I know Lucy Lou was waiting to welcome you and while she is sniffing, you are chasing squirrels around doggie heaven to your little heart's content.
I also know when it my time to pass the first spirit I long to see will be you. You, waiting at the door, your little tail wagging and wagging. We will take long walks together, snuggle like crazy and I will give you belly rubs as long as you like, forever and ever.
I love you and I miss you, my sweet little dog.
