Saturday

When it's Time - I was wrong


Photo Credit: Travis Patenaude

"Pets, it turns out, also have last wishes before they die, but it's only known by veterinarians who put old and sick animals to sleep. Jesse Dietrich asked a vet what the most difficult part of his job was.

The specialist answered without hesitation that it was the hardest for him to see how old or sick animals look for their owners with the eyes of their owners before going to sleep. 

Veterinarians ask the owners to be close to the animals until the very end. ′′It's inevitable that they die before you. Don't forget that you were the center of their life. Maybe they were just a part of you. But they are also your family. No matter how hard it is, don't leave them.

Don't let them die in a room with a stranger in a place they don't like. It is very painful for veterinarians to see how pets cannot find their owner during the last minutes of their life. They don't understand why the owner left them. After all, they needed their owner's consolation.

Veterinarians do everything possible to ensure that animals are not so scared, but they are complete strangers to them. Don't be a coward because it's too painful for you. Think about the pet. Endure this pain for the sake of their sake. Be with them until the end."

- Tricia Moore


I wrote this after I recently saw this post on Socal Media that struck me very deeply.  As a deep thinker, I have learned because of my mistakes, but sometimes it was very painful.

I have made many mistakes in my life, but one stands right up at the head of the class.  Over 35 years ago, I went through a divorce, and my son lived with me.  I loved him very much, and as all parents do, I tried to take care of any needs.  In the absence of a mother, I purchased a dog for him to care for and help him learn some responsibilities.  Patches, better known as Patchy Doodly, was purchased from a breeder who was my friend.  She was a black and white cocker spaniel and was cute as a button and the love of everyone's life.  

We got her before I was married to Elaine, and for several years, it was me, Patches, and my son.  They always were running through the house, and Patches would sleep with him through the night.  He loved her, and I loved her too, but she was his dog, not mine.  When my son would visit his mother a couple of times a month for the weekend. Patches and I would sit on the couch in front of the fireplace with a bottle of Chardonnay, I would feel sorry for myself, and I told her all my troubles; she was a great listener. Patches was always there for me, always.

After nearly four years, I fell in love with Elaine, and she moved into our house after we were married.  Now it was five of us, and Patches loved Elaine and her children too, but Elaine was a little unsure about Patches.  It never causes a problem except once.  I got a call from Elaine at my work, and Patches got into a garbage can in the kitchen, which wasn't her first time.  During that phone call, I got that ultimatum; "Patches needs to go."  Knowing not to say much to Elaine, I stopped at my cousin's house before returning home from work to vent my anguish.  Being an avid dog lover, and in a very clear voice, my cousin said. "you do know you can get another wife," and was serious.  After our talk, I drove home wondering what to do.  When I got to the front door, Elaine met me and said, "we'll work this out.  I know how much Patches means to the kids."   Whew... 

Over the years, Elaine and Patches became best friends and best buddies, and life was good. After a few years, Elaine and I retired early but went to work for a good friend of ours who was a veterinarian.  Because we worked at the Vet's office, health care cost for the dogs was next to nothing.  We had Patches groomed, along with any medical needs which seemed to be increasing with her age.  One issue that cocker spaniels have is ear infections because their ears don't get nearly the ventilation they need.  Getting the best vet care possible wasn't helping; in fact, her condition was getting worse. After many attempts to help her, she kept getting worse.

Patches was tired; we didn't know how tired she was.  We took her in one morning to get groomed and some much-needed medical attention.  She stayed in the office with us, but when everyone was gone but the Doctor at lunchtime, we took her to the examination room and sat her on the table and after a thorough exam. he said.  "We can't help her anymore; she is suffering; it's time."  My heart exploded with pain; I was dimmed with anguish; this can't be, I thought.  Elaine spoke up said, "I know," my heart said no, but my brain said yes; it was time, and it was.  Elaine looked into my eyes through tears, and I looked back with the same.  The Doctor gave us a moment to be with her, and when he came back into the room, he was carrying the evilest injection we had in the office, which was known to the staff as the blue shot because the serum was blue, which meant death.  Standing at the table and knowing what was coming.  He said, "are you ready?"  "NO, I can't do this, I can't be here," I turned and, through tears, said to Elaine, "please be with her; I can't, I just can't."  After it was over and with everyone still gone to lunch, I carried her body to the grooming area, where I cried over her body.  My first thought was that I was a coward and thought of how she was always there for me.   My mind flashes back to when it was just Patches and me, and we would sit on the couch and watch the fire in the fireplace.  I had nobody but her, and I let her down when she needed me the most. I was wrong, very, very wrong with the decision I made that day.

Elaine and I had purchased property in Brown County, Indiana, to build a house on.  We were a few years away from starting construction and the day Patches died, I stroked her face and told her I was sorry through tears, but she was going home. She was cleaned and wrapped in a new blanket.  With the utmost care and as gentle as I could, I got her ready for her new home.

Elaine and I drove Patches to our land in Brown County, and she was buried there with the utmost love as could be.  That day changed my life!  Three years later, Elaine and I moved into our home, and it became known as Dogwood Ridge.  Patches was the first to reside on the farm, and many of our dogs have followed.  

Since then, I made a point to be with them when that time came, including any of our rescue dogs that passed. Many years ago, I was told by a friend that lost their dog what helped them when that time came.  Since then, for every dog that passed, I was with them to the end.  The Doctor waited until I was ready, and I would bend down and stroke their face, rubbing their ears and look into their eyes that always pierced my heart and soul.  After I knew they were comforted and at peace, I gave the OK, saying to my beloved pet, "it's OK, I'm here for you just like you were always there for me, I love you." I position my face next to theirs and breathed in their last breath. 

 The death of a loyal companion is brutal, I know.  Number 10, the most important lesson from 10 Life Lessons from a Dog's Point of View.

"Please go with me on that difficult journey.  Never say I can't watch; it's too painful.  Everything is easier for me when you are near me, even death, this is when I will need you the most. Your face will be the last thing I will ever see, and then I will know you loved me as much as I loved you... and through it all, always remember I loved you."  Patches, I'm sorry.  Ken


Sunday

Memorial Day 2022

Last night while sitting in my recliner, I looked at one of the dog beds in front of me and remembered that it was Dutchess's bed, and just a week or so ago, she was in it.  I then floated back several years ago, and that same bed was Mollie's bed.  It struck me pretty hard that they are gone because I could see them still there.  In my mind's eye, I looked around the room and saw all of our dogs that had passed in their favorite spot while we were relaxing and sitting at the end of the day. I could see them so clearly; it was bittersweet because I missed them so much and still do.

All of us will "go home" at some time; it's inevitable. When I was a kid, my parents drove for what seemed like days to visit my Mom's family in the country for "Decoration Day," which is also called Memorial Day.  It was an annual trip that we took to decorate the graves of family members that had passed before us.  As kids, we had such a good time, and it was a whole weekend of fun, excitement, and things I had never seen before. There were 13 children in my Mom's family, of which my mother was the youngest. We were the city folk side of the family; everyone else lived near that homestead.  


When we would visit, we would stay at Aunt Maggie's house because it was the only home with indoor plumbing, something that I took for granted at our own home. On Sunday, after decorating the graves, we would gather at the homestead for the big potluck/pitch-in dinner.  I remember that if we needed to "go," we had to go to the "barn" to do our business, which as a kid, I thought
was pretty cool. All in all, it was a great weekend, and I got to see my many cousins and play in the fields and get dirty. We always brought home fresh eggs and homemade butter, something my Dad always said reminded him of his youth when he was a boy.

Several weeks ago, and with the help of Google Earth, I went back home to the farm my mother grew up on, and sadly, everyone had passed on some time ago. Not knowing the address except for RR2, I scowled the location from a satellite.  Low and behold, I found it, I saw the farm, and I was thrilled. Things had changed, and my mind flashed back to when I was 12 years old. I will always remember the well that we got the water from by dropping a rusty galvanized bucket down into the well and cranking it up for some cold, clean water and going to the bathroom in the barn. When

 I expanded my Google Earth search; I also visited the graveyard where we always went to decorate our family graves. With the technology today, I was at the very spot I was at for many years in my childhood. I could even rotate my view to see the graves of my family. There is no one left to have a reunion, and it's sad, and my visit was bittersweet, but I did enjoy it and the trip down memory lane.

As I walked that long road down the driveway at home last night, I stopped and sat at the grave of my dogs; I remembered the moments in my life when they were here, hovering for attention.  Abbie with a ball in her mouth, Clancy watching from a distance, and Molly laying at my feet. Dutchess getting into some mischief with Meggie running as fast as she can, life was good. Life can be harsh at times, but when I remember them, I try to visualize them running and playing and the love we shared together.



As for this Memorial Day, remember to honor the men and women of our armed services who gave everything for us to keep our freedom, but remember our past pets too and the funny, cute, and loving way they loved us. Take a minute to look into your present dog's eyes, stroke their fur, and assure them that they are everything to you because someday before we know it, it may be too late; trust me, I know because just a few weeks ago, Dutchess with my help crawled into my lap one last time...  Ken.