Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Ch Golly G's Kicks Sky Hi: June 28, 1994–January 29, 2008

Kicks died in my arms this morning at 6:25 a.m.

She had started feeling poorly yesterday afternoon, and when I took her to the vet, an x-ray showed a new growth in her abdomen and other signs that the cancer had spread. She did not seem to be in distress, just generally less enthisiastic about the world than usual. The vet took some blood, and the plan was to wait to see what those tests showed and to see how she was feeling the next day before making any decisions.

We went to bed early (she hopped up on the bed like she always does), and during the night I heard her occasionally waking, breathing heavily, and then falling back asleep. At around 5:00, her breathing became more labored, and I began to realize that I would probably have to euthanize her soon. Over the next hour, she became increasingly weak, and I made plans for a friend to come over so I could take her to an emergency vet (I didn't even want to wait until my vet's office opened).

I sat with her on the bed and pulled her into my lap. I stroked her and told her how incredibly grateful I am to have had her in my life for the past five and a half years. I told her that it was okay to go, that I would be all right and that she wasn't really leaving me because we would always be together. I thanked her over and over for giving me all the joy and happiness and love she has shown me in our brief time together.

After a little bit, her breathing became lighter and shallower, until it just quietly stopped and I saw the light fade from her eyes.

I looked up into the air above the bed and said, "Goodbye, my girl."

I have known for some months now that this was imminent, and although I have been saying over and over that I didn't know how I was going to get through it, I began to realize that Kicks herself has been showing me how all along: wag your tail, be happy, and make the most of today. When you don't feel so great any more, lie down in someone's arms. When it's time to go, go knowing that those you have left behind have been enriched by your love.

2 comments:

Mali said...

I'm sorry you lost a good friend. But you have given me words to live by. "When it's time to go, go knowing that those you have left behind have been enriched by your love."

Aslo White said...

Thanks, mali. The pain of loss is still sharp. She is my lifetime dog. I will have other dogs, but never one like her.