I Hate This Dog (Part II) posted 12/30/2007 2:20:58 AM | 6 kudos what's this?     report abuse tagged: dog, pets

Daviator

We’d go to see mom almost daily. At first Flower couldn’t wait to sit in mom’s lap. Mom, suffering from dementia, didn’t really know who I was, but she never forgot Flower. She’d just sit there stroking Flower’s fur (the little that had grown back) and talk to this strange man who somehow had her dog. Over time, Flower wanted less and less into mom’s lap. She wanted to stay with me and if mom didn’t notice, I certainly did. I kept forcing her into mom’s lap and she kept coming back. I don’t know if mom enjoyed the game of Pekingese ping pong but it was obvious, Flower was my little buddy.

Mom got to the point where she could no longer get in a wheelchair and sit in the living room. She stayed in her bed and so when we visited, Flower would curl up next to her much the same way she did back at home when mom would fall asleep on the couch. It wasn’t too much longer after that that mom passed. And we were all there: mom, my sister, me and Flower. It was as it should be. We were all family and we were together to the end.

And that’s when Flower achieved superstar status. She was now the last living link to my mom. When I looked at her, I saw mom. When she curled up next to me, it reminded me of mom. She was my “mom-line.”

And she was a goofy dog. When we went for a walk, she had to smell everything! That’s how she got her name. The evil caregiver’s kids saw her smelling everything and they called her Flower. Perhaps it was the fact that she was “nasally challenged” but, even a simple walk around the block would take at least forty-five minutes. At times it drove me crazy.

There was one time, on St. Patrick’s day, when I finally lost it. I wanted to get home and she wanted to sniff everything. I kept dragging her by the leash and finally said the heck with it. I unclipped her and walked home, figuring she’d follow along behind. I walked into the driveway and hid, waiting for her to show up so I could scold her. I waited and waited and nothing. I finally retraced my steps and there she was, sitting in the middle of the street, looking for me. As soon as I called, she came running. To say I was shamefaced and guilt-ridden would be an understatement. Even now my face is burning at the thought that I left her and that she very easily could have been hit by a car. What an ass! That was the first and last time I ever let her off leash without keeping her in sight.

When I took her to the dog park, she would hop up on a bench and bark at the other dogs. I swear she thought she was human and was scolding them for being dogs. Every so often during our walks, about two blocks from home, she’d take off like a bat out of hell. If you’ve ever seen a Peke run, you know it’s not all that fast but she ran like a dog possessed. Jumping on the porch, she’d look behind as if to say, “What took you so long?” I had trouble keeping up I was laughing so hard. When I tore my tendon and was confined to the house, she took the first opportunity to run through the open front door and down the street. My poor eighty-year-old neighbor volunteered to chase her down. It looked like the circus was in town as Flower led the way, my neighbor coming in second and me hobbling on my crutches taking up the rear.

In early 2007, I came home to find Flower standing up. It was strange for her because she normally slept. In fact, since she lost her hearing, she wouldn’t even stir when the car pulled up in the driveway. I used to sneak into the house and pounce on her. I’m not sure she appreciated this game as much as I. I was immediately concerned as I let her out and she just wasn’t her normal self. I took her to the vet clinic and they ran all kinds of tests. She was one very sick puppy and spent the next few days shuffling back and forth between her regular vets and the emergency ones. At the regular vets, they improvised an “oxygen cage,” because she was having trouble breathing. Seeing her cowering in the corner, panting for all she was worth, I was right back to her first night at the kennel. When the regular vet closed, I had to take her to the emergency vet. We rode in the car together just like the old times. She slept flat out in the passenger seat breathing very peacefully. I think she was exhausted but also seemed at peace. She was very sick and the emergency vets wanted to try all kinds of exotic procedures. I said yes and went home. At 12:57 AM, Tuesday morning, I received a call saying she didn’t survive. I thanked the vet, hung up and cried.

There are those who might say she was just an animal, that it really doesn’t matter. For me, she was one of the most powerful life lessons I’ve been shown. And one of the purest, simplest forms of affirmation I’ve ever experienced. I hated her in the beginning. In the end, well…in the end there’s still a hole in my heart from this silly little ball of fur. But at least now mom has her dog back.

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Blogs by Daviator: Let's Get Together A Trip in Time Saves Mine The Summer of Love Stars and Stripes Forever Jog My Memory – Why Am I Doing This?! On The Nose! Saving Ryan's Privates I Hate This Dog (Part II) I Hate This Dog (Part I) The End Is The Beginning?