Celebrating Life.

The last time I blogged was on March 10th, the day before what I thought would be Dasher's last day of life. We had the appointment made and of course, our sweet, resilient girl decided to perk up that day. There was no way we'd put her down if her tail was wagging. That weekend, her eyesight became more and more impaired to the point where there was a thick glaze over her eyes and we were sure that she couldn't see. Her hind legs became weaker and walking was a strenuous, difficult task for her. Her blood pressure was so high and she shook constantly. It was a painful, heart-wrenching time for us all. As painful as it was, she was definitely giving us signs that her body had endured enough.

On Monday the 14th, my mom called our vet and made the appointment for 5pm that day. I left school an hour or two early so I could spend some more time with my babe. It was really, really hard. I felt numb, broken and vulnerable. I buried my teary face in her silky fur as I told her how much I love her. Right before 5pm, Dasher trudged upstairs one last time. I followed her as she snuck into my room. One last rest on my bed, that's all she wanted. I willingly helped her up and I snuggled right up to her bony body. I looked straight into her eyes. For a few minutes, we lay there, just the two of us, silent. There was an overbearing sense of calm and so much love present.

5pm rolled around much too quickly. Our lovely vet, Louise arrived at our house right on time. It killed me to force Dasher down those stairs one more time but I feared associating my bed with her death so when she made it to the top of the stairs, I scooped her frail, bony body up into my arms and I carried her down to the living room. Louise sedated her and she slowly collapsed to the floor. With one hand stroking her long, soft ears, I read the poem below.

Native American Prayer

I give you this one thought to keep-

I am with you still-I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints on snow,

I am sunlight on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awake in the morning's hush

I am the swift, uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not think of me as gone-

I am with you still-in each new dawn.

Halfway through the poem, tears started streaming down my face again. The reality of what was happening started to overpower the numbness that had encompassed my body. We sat there for a few minutes, staring at her limp, sleeping body. Memories from the first day I laid eyes on her flashed through my mind. Her short eight years here on this earth were filled with so much love, joy and beauty and the thought of that got me through. It was the first time I had experienced death firsthand. I was amazed how one minute she was with us--breathing, staring deep into my soul--and the next, she was gone. But I guess that's just how death is.

Baby girl, my love for you is eternal. You were the sunshine on a cloudy day and I miss you like hell. I hope your sweet soul is eating endless amounts of treats and dindin, wherever it may be. Until we reconnect someday, remember that I love you. Love, Soph.

Numb.

I have no appetite, my head is pounding and I can't think straight; I'm numb. It was just ten days ago that the vet gave Dasher a month to live and we're putting her down tomorrow.

With her condition, there have been a lot of ups and downs. One day she'll be eating and running around outside and the next day her food will go untouched, she'll shake for fifteen minutes straight and she'll throw up every last bit of what's in her stomach. We've given her three doses (1L each) of hydration fluid at our house over the past week. With her kidneys not flushing out the toxins properly, it was important for us to administer this fluid to keep her hydrated and do some flushing. Never in a million years did I think I'd be holding Dashie's heavy head in my hands while my mom stuck a needle in her back. It was like a dehydrated patient in a hospital except it was our dog and we were in our own house. It felt so wrong. Some of the time she responded quite well to the liquids while other times she would throw it up all night long.

Yesterday she hit one of her low points. I offered her a treat and she just stared at me blankly, looking scared and pleading for help. My mom and I decided that we just cannot do this anymore. We can't do it to Dash. She's miserable. This can't be about us. Sure, I would love to do everything possible to keep her alive but we have to think about how our girl feels. This is her life. This is about her. We're going to send her off to a much happier, more comfortable place. This is killing me, it's tearing me open and ripping everything out of me, but I know this is right.

I love you, baby girl.

She has a fear of cameras so I always have to hop in the picture with her.

I am at loss for words. I cannot explain the wave of grief that washed over me and knocked me down yesterday. My sweet girl, Dasher, was diagnosed with chronic kidney failure and lyme disease. Only one fourth of one kidney is functioning and they gave her a month to live. A month is not long enough for me to tell her all I have to say. This dog has changed my life. She's more than just a dog; she's my best friend. I will never forget the moment I saw her fly out of a dog crate with her huge ears and oversize paws, just bounding with puppy love. These eight years with her have been something else. Just one look into her sweet eyes can totally turn my day around. My friends always joke, "Sophie, your dog is staring deep into my soul!", but that's exactly what she does. She looks at you with such emotion and meaning; it's impossible to look at her without your heart melting.

At this point, I feel like it's just a scary waiting game. I find myself drifting over to where she's curled up in a club chair about every five minutes to get on my knees, wrap my arms around her little body, bury my face in her soft fur, take in her rugged dog smell, kiss her a few times and whisper "I love you, baby girl" as many times as I can. I am determined to make this next month (or hopefully longer!) extra special. I want to store as many memories in my mind as possible and I want my girl to feel so very loved. I'm trying to keep my chin up because I know she's had such a great life but at the same time this has all happened so fast and the thought of not having her here is terrifying. One day at a time, one day at a time.