End of an era

Friday was May 28, 2010, the day we lost our dear dog Chewy. Even though we had prepared ourselves for it it didn't make it easy when it arrived. It never does.

Dr. McGhee had put Chewy on a daily does of an anti-inflammatory for two weeks and then we expected to cut back to once every two days. Today would have been the two weeks. Chewy had been getting around better, not limping so much from his arthritis. And altogether acting normally.

Around 1:00PM Friday Ben called from the house to ask what vet we used. He said Chewy had a seizure. He said he foamed at the mouth, stretched his body out stiff and moved his legs like he was running. I called the vet but when Ben tried to load Chewy to take him he was confused and combative. Ben stayed with him for a while and called me later to say Chewy seemed normal so Ben went on into work. I couldn't wait for Randy to get home to check on him.

Turns out Randy was running late so it was me that checked on him when I got home. At first he was fine. He met me at the steps like always, tail wagging, ready for his supper. I fed him and he ate like normal. I guess I'd been home 15 minutes or so when Ran called and while I was talking to him I could see Chewy beginning to have another seizure. I had looked dog seizures up on the internet before I left work so I knew basically there wasn't anything I could do until it was over except remove anything he could get hurt on. The seizure lasted for a little over a minute.

When he came out of it he was very confused. Not wanting to be bitten like Ben I left him alone and watched. He was pointed toward the railing so I assumed he would turn around or back up and come toward me. He didn't. In his confusion he pushed himself through the railing and fell off the porch into the grass and pavers below. I watched him stagger under the porch.

By this time I knew I had to call the vet. I had already spoken to them several times during the afternoon. I went into the house to get my cell and when I came back out Chewy was on the lower terrace behind the house. He was still confused. He walking straight into the house with his head pointed toward the wall. Then another seizure began. He laid down. Before Randy could get here Chewy had another seizure laying there and could not get up. That was a total of 4 that we knew of and by this time he was very much out of it. As soon as Randy pulled up I called the vet to let them know we were on the way that Chewy was very bad.

Randy put Chewy on a rug to pull him away from the house then picked him up and put him in the back of the car. On the way over Chewy had 2 more seizures and his breathing was constantly heavy.

Once we got Chewy into a room and Dr. Lewis examined him he asked us about the possibility Chewy had come in contact with poisons, a sprayed yard or something like that. Of course nothing had changed around the house so that was eliminated but he kept asking us about it. The only way to confirm would be to give Chewy meds, keep him for observation and do a round of blood tests.

Earlier in the day when Ben called me he asked me if it wasn't just "time". As Randy and I stood there looking at Chewy and knowing he was out of it and anything we do would just put off the inevitable we looked at each other and knew what the other was thinking. After 14 years, 9 months and 2 weeks it was time. He was an old man, deaf with only one eye laying on that table suffering and it was time.

I asked Dr. Lewis what would happen and Randy signed the papers. Randy and I didn't leave Chewy. He was faithful to us all his life and we were not about to leave him alone now. After Dr. Lewis administered the shots Chewy passed away peacefully a few minutes after 6:00pm.

We are going to bring him back here on Monday, Memorial Day, and bury him on the property. It's only fitting. This is the home he loved, the only home he ever knew where people he loved, and who loved him, came and went.

I can just see it now

This has been a wonderful weekend. I typically don't go into town on Saturdays but this weekend there were errands I needed to run that took me there and I'm glad they did. Driving through town and walking around reminded me of a Norman Rockwell portrait of Americana. I'm so blessed to still live in one of those small towns that hasn't been gobbled up yet by big box commerce (though we are on the verge).

It actually all started Thursday on the National Day of Prayer. I met my sister at lunch in front of the courthouse where an event had been planned. Several pastors and others were asked to lead us in pray for various areas that touch our lives; our family, local, state and federal government, schools, etc. I expected a bigger crowd but the moderator said there were more here this year than last and he hoped next year would be even bigger.

Then Saturday morning as I drove through the mass of folks out getting their Mother's Day presents I passed a yard sale at the Methodist church. I didn't have time to stop but would have loved to. Up the road at the Middle School parking lot teenagers were fundraising by washing cars. Two guys were by the road waving homemade signs. A block up from there is our small Saturday morning farmer's market where local growers and craftsmen bring their wares. Homegrown tomatoes, beans, corn and handcrafted birdhouses and pottery are for sale.

By the time I got to Kroger I had a smile on my face already and then it got bigger. There were some little Boy Scouts selling colorful wooden rose buds as a fundraiser just in time for Mother's Day.

As I drove out of town I started thinking about all the Norman Rockwell paintings I have seen and concluded that my little hometown would have been a perfect subject for a Norman Rockwell collage. I can just see it now.

Hope is enough for today

I had a good day yesterday. It is not the first good day I’ve had since last summer but is one of the few. I feel like I’ve been in a fog. That is what depression causes. You find yourself in a place you’d rather not be and don’t know how to get out of.

I stopped going places by myself, including church. I felt joyless even around the people I love the most. I had anxiety attacks. It’s crazy. I tried to ignore it for a long time thinking it would just go away. It didn’t. Then I tried to handle it myself. I couldn’t. Then I went to counseling and hoped that would change everything. I learned things about myself that no one else understands. Or would believe really.

Who would have guessed I would be someone who feels insignificant. It was a real shocker to me. I’ve had confidence and a perfectly normal healthy self-esteem all my life. Why suddenly in mid-life would that be shaken??? Don’t know. And the counselor couldn’t help me with it to my satisfaction. I’m not going back at the moment.

But then that is the back-story. Yesterday I actually had a song in my heart. I danced – literally danced – in the living room. I took a walk. I got things done without sitting on the couch all day watching TV. It felt good.

There are some lingering questions, some unsolved issues but today I have hope. And hope is enough for me today.