A Wee Bit Jealous

I've been noticing lots of dogs in our neighborhood lately out for walks or runs with their owners.  I'm sure that there are no more dogs out than there were about a month ago; I'm just noticing them more now.  I'm not crying when I see dogs so much any more.  I've moved on to the jealousy stage of grief.  (Is there one of those?)

I'm jealous of those owners who are so loved by their animals.   I knew that love once and now it is gone.  There is nothing quite like the love of a dog.  They are always glad to see their owners.  Unless like Petey, the suddenly remember that they've been left alone, then they pout for a while.

They are always forgiving and gentle.  Unless they are Petey and have just been given a snuggi or pet steps or a treat that wasn't a bacon treat.  We eventually got forgiveness and didn't do it again.

They like to snuggle, or is it take up the whole bed.  I never understood how a 12 lb dog could take up more room in a bed than two full grown humans!

OK.  So, it wasn't always a bed of roses with Petey.  But that is what made him so unique.  And I still miss him and his affection whenever and however he decided to dole it out.

When I Miss Petey the Most

We had to let Petey go three weeks ago yesterday.  I still miss him, and I know I'll miss him for a long time.  The memories aren't as piercing now.  His absence doesn't loom so large and the silence is no longer deafening.  Healing is happening.

As I was eating lunch today, I decided that I didn't really want the last couple of bites.  Three weeks ago, a little white dog would have been watching my every bite and I would have handed him nibbles all along.  I would have given him those last couple of bites as well.  It made me sad to toss it in the trash instead.  Nevermind that the odds were pretty good, I would have wound up doing that anyway because it was hard to know if Petey would take table scraps or not.

Little stuff like that pops up all of the time.  At least now, I don't cry about it, at least not every time, or as much.  There are two times that I miss Petey the most and it is going to take longer for me to get over.  Those two times are when I leave the house and when I come home.

Long time readers will remember Petey's very strict rules.  All Petey rules were very strict!  One of them was about leaving the house.  Simply put, don't do it.  If however it is unavoidable, do it only once per day.  Coming & going, particularly in rapid succession were just not tolerated well.  Heaven forbid, that we get to the car and realize we left something inside.  We'd actually discuss if we really, really needed it and if so, who had to go inside and get it.

Once I started working from home, I tried to limit myself to one trip per day still, trying to pile up all my errands in to one trip.  I'd sneak out while he was asleep and leave treats in the kitchen floor for him.  I hoped that would make up for the fact that he didn't find me when he woke up.  If I left while he was awake, I'd tell him how long I'd be gone and give him a treat.  Often he wouldn't take it because he knew what that meant.  I guess he hoped that if he didn't take the treat I wouldn't leave.

Coming home is harder still than leaving.  When Petey was in his prime, we'd be greeted with the Petey Dance.  He was just so glad to see us that he couldn't keep still.  He'd have been waiting on the back of the couch where he could see out the front window.  He'd race to the kitchen door the minute he saw the car and prance around excitedly until we came in.  It felt good to be so loved and welcomed.  As he got older, he didn't greet us at the door so much and his hips didn't allow for much dancing, but he always was obviously glad we were home.  

On the drive home from wherever, even a quick trip to the store, my mind would always be casting ahead to what Petey would need when I got home, or what he might have done in the house, or maybe he was still asleep and didn't know I'd gone.  My first thoughts were always of him.  

For 12+ years, my mind headed that way.  It will take a while to retrain my thinking.  That's OK.  I like remembering Petey.  In time, I'll smile more at the memories rather than cry.

What Happened on Monday

This post is for me.  I want to get the memories down while they are still fresh.  I've waited until now because it hurt too much to relive the experience.  I want to document the final chapter in Petey's life, even if I never read it again.

John came home from work about 12:30.  He wanted to spend some time with Pete before the vet was schedule to arrive at 4:00.  I was anticipating a gut wrenching afternoon.  It was.  We told Petey again and again that the doctor was coming and she would help him out of all his pain.  It gave us time to discuss what of Petey's we wanted to keep as mementos of his life and what we wanted to donate.  Even though we agreed to get rid of his beds, I left them right where they were until he was buried.  I didn't want to risk him seeing his beds gone and get upset like he always did when I decided it was time to wash them.

It was clear that the medication for his back legs wasn't getting the job done anymore.  I'd already doubled the vet's dosage, no longer fearing kidney failure or liver damage.  Even with that, it took several tries for him to stand and walking was an iffy proposition.  He had little control over those back legs so he wasn't steering so well.  John was convinced that he was deaf.  I admited that his hearing had diminished, but I still contended he had selective hearing.  In the last few weeks, he'd become night blind.  We were having to leave lights on in the house at night so he could see to get to his water bowl.  Between the night blindness and the bad back legs he was a hazard to himself at night in the dark.  We were up with him a good bit, much like parents of a newborn.

As we would tell Petey that this was for his own good, we were trying to convince ourselves as well as him.  Petey was calm and took the news well.  He licked my face as I cried.  Maybe to comfort me, maybe the salt water tasted good.  He was happy those last few hours.  He had his two favorite people with him with 100% of our attention.  It was what he loved the most.

We gave him all the bacon treats he could hold.  He seemed to enjoy them again.  (In recent weeks, he'd take or leave a treat when offered.)  As I was eating a dark chocolate peanut butter granola thin, and holding Pete, he acted very interested in it, so I gave him a taste.  He liked it and clearly wanted more.  So, I fed him a whole one.  Then I got another and gave it to John to feed him.  Petey ate with gusto we hadn't seen in ages.  It did the three of us good.

The vet's office called just before 4:00 and offered cremation services which we declined. The vet arrived promptly at 4:00 and I just lost it.  We were all outside enjoying the lovely afternoon and I knew when I saw the car that this was it.  John was holding Petey and Petey began to bark like he hadn't barked in ages.  (At our yard sale just a few weeks ago, he was quite docile and let strangers touch him.)  The Petey that prompted the start of this blog was back.  The vet was kind and compassionate and hugged me.

We all went in to the house.  I held Petey like a baby up on my shoulder while John signed the necessary paperwork.  John sat by me on the couch and the vet knelt in front of us and administered the first dose of medicine.  This was just to help him relax and go to sleep.  In typical Petey fashion, he fought it.  He tried to keep those eyes open.  I handed him to John.

John held him up on his chest like a baby too.  He had his left hand on Petey and his right arm around me.  I rested my head on John's chest with my face next to Pete's.  I had my right hand on Petey and my left under John.  I cried unashamedly, as Petey closed his eyes for the last time.  The vet went in to the other room to give us time alone.

When she came back into the room to give him the lethal dose, Petey's eyes eased back open.  I think he was already gone then.  I think his little body was so fragile, that the sedative took him.  At the time, however, I thought he wasn't quite asleep and asked the vet to wait for him to close his eyes again.  She told me that it was OK, that he was relaxed.  She gave him the last injection and within just a few seconds checked his heart and it was no longer beating.

She kindly stayed with us a while.  When she left she gave us a burial bag for him.  We took him to an undisclosed location and buried him. I was strangely emotion free by then.  I was hollow.   We buried him with what remained of his beloved green ring and a bacon treat.  We marked the spot, even though I knew I'd never come back to that spot of ground to talk to Petey.  It is not my style.  I don't want to think of Petey there.

I think of Petey every morning when I get up and his yellow blanket isn't beside the bed.  I think of him all day long as I work and he isn't on the discarded mattress pad, or isn't following me from room to room as I move about the house.  I think of Petey when I walk in the front room, where he used to go pout when the baby arrived.  I think of Petey when we are watching TV and night and he's not on his pillow in the floor supervising us, or angling to go out once it gets dark, or herding us off to bed.  I think of him when we actually turn off the lights at bedtime rather than turning them on.  I think of him when I come home and he's not there to greet us and I don't have to look for pee in the floor.  (Petey did pee in the floor right in front of John and me one last time Monday afternoon!)

Petey's old worn out little body will return to the earth, but his memories will live in our hearts forever.  In time, the memories will make us smile and laugh rather than prick our hearts.  We had a good run with Petey.  I have no doubt we made his life better when he came to live with us.  But, Petey made our lives much richer and fuller.  I think we got the better end of the bargain.

RIP, Pete.

The Post I Never Wanted to Write

When I started this blog, I knew it would not last forever.  I knew that one day I would have to share the news that Petey was no longer with us.  I really thought the day would come sooner than it has, so I am thankful for that.  I've known since the end of July that the end was nearer than it ever had been before.  Now, I know that Petey is in his last hours as I type.  By the time this is read, he may already have crossed the rainbow bridge.

I've called the vet and scheduled his final appointment.  They will come to the house this afternoon and administer the medication required to end his pain.  Petey had a hard weekend.  His back legs just aren't getting the job done any more.  He'll try to stand only to fall repeatedly.  Once he finally gets up, he has little to no control over his steps.  He walks into stuff, big stuff like walls and furniture.  John and I have resorted to carrying him.  He lets us.  The young Petey would not have allowed such an indignity.  Now, he's content to be carried.  As hard as it is and will be for us, it is time to end his misery.

We have many fun and many frustrating memories of the little goof.  Our life took a dramatic turn that we never anticipated when we took him in.  In spite of his many little quirks or maybe because of them, he wormed his way into our hearts as well as our lives.  Memories of Petey will surround us for a long time, even longer than it will take to get rid of the last bit of his fur on the furniture.  We'll hold those memories near as we miss his presence with us.

I'll leave this blog up and welcome comments of any memories of Pete.  I may post my own memories from time to time.  I will miss him, more than I care to admit.

Petey the Babysitter

Petey's not too keen on the baby coming over.  He's getting accustomed to it though.

Petey's Beds

Petey loves a good place to burrow down and nap.  That is nothing new.  I've blogged before about all of the beds he has all over the house.  He has a bed or presence in every room in the house with the only exception being the hall bathroom.  (The only place he'll drink water is from a bowl in the back bathroom, not in the kitchen next to his food bowl!)  Never mind that the humans only have one bed and they share it!  Of course, there is the bed in the guest room, but still; Petey has more beds.

He has a bed in the bedroom:

Here he is making good use of it.

He has a bed in the guest bedroom:

His beloved yellow blanket.

He has a bed in the living room:

A pillow and a couple of blankets where he can rest while we watch TV.

However, even with this many beds, it isn't quite enough.  Not for Petey.  Yesterday, he took his bed obsession to a whole new level.

It started first thing in the morning, when he wasn't in the bedroom bed.  This is odd, since his first rule is that no one sleeps alone in the house.  Even though his back legs prevent him from actually sleeping with the humans, he stays in the same room if at all possible.  I looked in all of his typical spots and a few that weren't and couldn't find him.  I was just about to call John at work to see if he's left him out when he went to work.  Before I made the call, I remembered one last spot in the guest bedroom.  

I found him in a corner behind a rocking chair on some pillows.  We'd pulled the pillows out from under the bed to make room for a mattress.  We had not yet found a new home for the pillows, but Petey made good use of them in the meantime.  (Sorry, I didn't think to take a picture.)

A little later in the morning, the baby came over.  To say Petey is jealous would be a understatement.  He is, but he has not been aggressive towards her at all.  He would just rather not have my attention divided.  Nor John's, for that matter.  

The baby has a nice floor play mat:

She spends hours and hours rolling around on the floor on or nearby this.  Yesterday was no exception.  The first time she rolled off of the mat itself and was on the floor playing, Petey eased himself on to the mat and acted as if it was right where he belonged.  The baby really was happy to share and reached over to express her joy by grabbing his tail.  Petey cut his eyes around at her, but never even moved his head or make a sound.  She patted his back leg and he let out a heavy sigh, but never moved a muscle.

I moved her because I didn't want to push Petey too far.  We were going to get the camera to take a picture of Petey on the mat, but he followed us.  So, I put the play mat on a bigger blanket in the floor.  I put the baby on the play mat and Petey got on the blanket next to the mat and all was well.

Finally, during the night last night, the blanket we have on my side of the bed fell in to the floor.  I did not know it happened, but Petey did.  His bed is on John's side of our bed, but still he realized that the blanket was in the floor.  He repositioned himself on top of that blanket, after scratching around on it some to make it more comfortable!

I'd like to conclude by saying that we learned a valuable lesson about Petey and his bed needs yesterday, but I can't.  I don't think we can fully comprehend just how many beds a dog needs, nor where they need to be.  At least he got a long a little better with the baby.

Petey's Pills

Old man Petey takes three doses of medicine each day.  He has half an arthritis pill in the morning and the other half in the evening.  At bedtime he has a quarter of a calming medication so that we can all sleep all night long.  Most of the time he takes the arthritis medicine straight from our hands.  Most of the time he'll take the beddy-bye pill with a little peanut butter.  We think it might have a bitter taste once it is quartered.  It is a good thing that the old dog is so good at taking his meds, or else we'd all be upset a lot of the time.

Some days, however, Petey exercises his right to be contrary and doesn't take his pill when it is offered.  Most of the time when this happens, we just stop trying for a while.  On the second or third try he'll generally give up and take the pill.  There are those times when he just won't take it, no way, no how.  Those are the times, when he starts trying to be sneaky.

This morning, it appeared like we might be in for one of those times with his morning medicine.  He came in from outside and I handed his pill to him.  He turned his head.  I tried again telling him that he liked this pill, so he yawned real big right over my hand, but did not take the pill.  I think I was supposed to believe that he took it when he opened his mouth.  But I was on to him, since the pill was still in my hand.

I told him that I didn't fall for it and tried one more time to get him to take the pill.  This time he lapped it up from my hand much like he was getting a drink, then he spit it right back out, in to my hand.  He's a clever little thing.  If he could just figure out how to spit the pill back out with out it going in to my hand, he might be on to something.

Knowing that he was in a defiant mood, I let it go.  I kept the pill with me waiting for an opportunity to spring it on him when his resistance was down. I tried again in a while. but once again he tried the fake take and the pill wound up right back in my hand.  I wish I had a video of the process, because he really thought he'd fooled me as he trotted off.

This time, I let him think so.  I went on about my business as he settled in to his ring bed to supervise.  After about 30 minutes had passed.  I left the room and he did too.  He has this rule about following me around.  I handed him the pill while his mind was on where I was going.  He swallowed it and is now resting once again in his ring bed.

Matching wits with a dog.  It is how I spend entirely too much of my time!  The good news is, I almost always win.