Here Comes The...

Usually, most of my blogs will be of a critical or satirical nature. Today is different, as a member of our family was lost yesterday. Some people consider dogs to be a possession. Our family, however, does not. Though they can not speak, dogs are just as loyal and trustworthy as any friend could ever be. They do not judge; they do not hate. A dog doesn't care if your hair is messy, or if you have put on a couple of pounds. All a dog needs to be happy is the occasional treat or maybe a belly rub.

Yesterday afternoon, Our family was forced to put down our one-eyed Boston Terrier, Puggy. This is not the first time that our family has had to make this decision before, but this was different. For over ten years, this dog has been through more trials and tribulations than any dog should have to go through. She was born to be a show dog. Unfortunately, she was born with an under-bite that would prevent her from ever appearing as a show dog. The breeders decided to give her away. Fortunately, she would be discovered by my aunt, who would come to love and spoil this dog unlike any other dog I have ever seen.

With her bulging eyes and under-bite, she was destined to forgo a life filled with adventures and setbacks. Early in her life, she would be attacked by another dog while trying to defend her little sister, Sassy. This would leave her bloodied and in pain, as Puggy would need dozens of stitches to begin the healing process. This would begin her disdain for unfamiliar dogs, and yes, she would try to hump some of them to establish dominance.

Years later, she would fall off of our porch. For this injury, she would need a metal rod placed in her leg. She would never walk the same way again. From now on, she would be forced to walk around with a limp. This would be the last time she could sprint across the yard. This would not detract her, however, as she would learn to adapt and adjust. Instead of sprinting (she could still trot), she would learn to play tug-of-war with her toys. For hours on end, she would keep her toy in her mouth, waiting for a suitor to play with her. She would even fall asleep with the toy in her mouth at times. She would relish the feeling of a challenge, and would often refuse to let go of her toy even after she had been lifted completely into the air.

There would be another tragedy that would befall Puggy in the next few years, as her cataracts condition that would leave her with little to no sight in both eyes. On top of that, her tear ducts would begin to stop producing tears. After about a year or so, her right eye would have to be removed. Considering the fact that Puggy is the only dog that I have ever known that could actually watch television, this would be a cruel punishment. She used to love to watch television. Especially the ones with cows or dogs.

Still, she would not give up. Again, she would learn to adapt. As her sight began to diminish, she began to find other ways to entertain herself. Basketball became her new passion, as it was large enough for her to find. After trying to bite the basketball, she would decide to jump on top of the basketball and roll it across the yard. I would have to say, this might be the thing that I will miss the most about this dog.

As the years wore on, she remained in pretty good health. She did have to have surgery on her colon, but she definitely looked cute while wearing a cone on her head and drugged up on painkillers. That was nothing. She learned to adapt with her disabilities. No, she could not see, but her hearing and sense of smell began to improve quite drastically.

For the next two years or so, she lived a happy life. Sure, she needed help to find food, but that did not curb her appetite. If she thought that you might play with her, she would place her toy on your shoe until you had played with her, or until she had fallen asleep. She was so full of energy, so full of life.

Nine months ago, however, things changed. About two weeks after my college graduation, Puggy suffered a slight seizure. About three days later, it happened again. This time, Puggy was rushed to the hospital. The doctors said that there had been a tear in hear heart. Blood had been pouring out of her heart, and had begun to fill her chest cavities. This had begun to cut off circulation of oxygen to her lungs as well as put pressure on her heart. The doctors were forced to perform an emergency procedure. The doctor said that there was only a fifty percent chance that Puggy would live through the night. Luckily, she would make it through the night. The next few days would be filled with a series of tests. This would determine the cause of the injury.

Before the week was over, however, it was confirmed. It was cancer...

My family was told that Puggy had less than one month to live. The options were discussed. Finally, my aunt decided that she had to try anything and everything to save her dog. The only thing that could save her would be to pursue an aggressive chemo regiment. The next few months would be filled with bi-weekly trips to the vet. The hospital became her second home. She began to lose weight rapidly, but her spirits remained upbeat and cheerful. She would still attempt to play, and would never pass up the opportunity to lay in the sun. Her outlook became better as well. The doctors now predicted that Puggy could survive for six to eight months.

After the chemo was finished, my aunt decided to spoil Puggy for her final months on this earth.

She made it through her birthday... to celebrate, we let her eat all of the cake she wanted. She made a mess.

She made it through Thanksgiving... To celebrate, we filmed her eating corn on the cob. She made a bigger mess.

She made it through Christmas... She was showered with presents, with pictures, with love. Yes, she made a mess.

She made it through the New Year...

She made it through my birthday...

She even made it through Valentine's Day...

[For those of you who do not wish to hear the rest, please move on to the final paragraph.]

A few days ago, however, she could no longer summon the strength to go on. Her heart was failing and her kidneys were shutting down. It was time for her to go. My aunt, who had spent more money on this dog than I had spent on my entire college education, had to make the hardest decision of her life.

The doctor was nice enough to travel to my grandparents house during his lunch break; it was better that way. Puggy never liked the hospital. Hell, who does? At least she could enjoy her final moments in her house, surrounded by her family. As we waited for the doctor to arrive, the final hour was a mixture of emotions. Though the pain and heartache was palpable in the room, there was also laughter. In between the sobs, our family shared our favorite memories of Puggy, as well as what we would miss most about her.

Just as my mother was talking about Krystal, my family's dog, the noise chip in her old toy began to go off. This was weird, because no one was in the room when the toy began to go off. This is not the first time that Krystal's presence has been felt. In fact, Chris has even seen Krystal twice after her passing. At that moment, however, I would like to think that Krystal was watching over her. I would like to think that Krystal was showing her which way to go.

The next few moments will stick with me forever. Puggy had been pretty lethargic the entire day. She would not eat, drink, or even go to the bathroom. Also, though she was not struggling for air, she was breathing heavily. As the doctor arrived, however, she summoned the strength to rise up and bark like she had in the previous years. It was reminiscent of a lion's last roar, yet it is a moment that I can not fully describe.

When the time finally came, it was peaceful. It was over in a second. There was no struggle; no last gasp of air. We each had our turn to give her one last kiss goodbye. It didn't even take a second for the medicine to take effect. In her final moments on earth, Puggy was resting comfortably in the arms of my Aunt. She was wrapped up in one of her favorite blankets, surrounded by her family. As I watched it all unfold, it was quiet. She was at peace now... I wish we could all go so peacefully. Time seemed to stand still as the realization sunk in. We thanked the doctor and began to throw away everything that reminded us of her battle with cancer. All of the medicine was donated, all of the charts were thrown away.

She carried herself as if she were royalty. In a way, she really was above the normal dog. She had been given a bad break in this world, yes. There was never a dog, however, that ever lived so happily. Yes, she was spoiled; she ate like a queen. For a dog who lived such an extraordinary life, it seems only fitting that she would pass on Fat Tuesday. Yes, she was expensive; but she was worth every penny. At this very moment, I would like to think that she has just had her fill of cake, and is lying in the warm sunshine, waiting for someone to rub her belly. There are many dogs that live in this world, but this one was different...