Paw Prints

Josie the Dog, rest in peace January 7, 2007

Hi out there. I am logging on to explain that this blog’s author, Lady Josephine Elaine, or Josie the Dog, has passed on to the next realm and won’t be posting here anymore. We had started the blog both for fun and as a bit of catharsis. You see, the last year and a half have brought us many doctor visits, dietary changes, sleep schedule changes, new symptoms and behaviors, medication changes, major surgery, and well, of course, fun too. We wanted to share some of these experiences and insights for anyone else who might have been going through the same. But perhaps that goal was a bit high… the truth was that after all the care and time, on top of managing the other aspects of life (work, school, work, chores) well, we were a bit tired. Ah well, live and learn.

Josie was a gift from my mother when I graduated from Cornell… a dog friendly campus that had thankfully changed me from a critter girl to a dog person. I hadn’t grown up with dogs but there I began to understand that I wanted to have a canine companion in my life.

I brought Josie home on July 4th of 1993. She was 6 weeks old. Following the advice of many experts, we’d made her a space in a special room, with a bed and water and food, and toys. I awakened deep in the middle of that first night to hear the puppy yelping. I couldn’t bear her tragic cries. Against the counsel of books and dog people I picked her up and put her in my bed. As I walked by my housemate’s room she grogged “don’t do it, she’ll learn and be ok”. Too late. I had taken this being into my life and home, and that meant certain responsibilities as I interpreted them. And thus began one of the most fulfilling journeys of my life.

Our companionship has essentially symbolized my entire adult life. I’ve been in various relationships, lived in a couple cities, lived in many apartments, changed careers, lost friends and made new ones. Guitar lessons. Yoga. Astrology. Breakups. Library science school. All the while this gentle beasty, every night, slept at the foot of my bed or, yes, by my side. She’d climb up next to me and begin to dream of running. Kick, kick, kick. Snore.

I was very down when I graduated from college. My degree seemed to mean very little in a town where it feels like you need to know somebody or be related to them to land a good job. I was seeking full time work and having pretty bad luck. Friends and family worried about me. I wasn’t eating or sleeping and watched TV all day. One day while looking through the classifieds (as usual) my eyes wandered over to the pets section. “Chocolate lab puppies!” I exclaimed with a wide-eyed smile. My mom said, “that’s the most enthused I’ve seen you about anything in weeks. Look into it.”

I began an intensive research project at our local library and days later emerged convinced I could handle it. I knew all the rules and procedures, I was ready. (All the real learning took place once we got her however…). There was to be no sitting on the couch watching TV. The puppy needed to be trained. She needed to go outside and be taken for walks. Rather quickly I was emerging into my neighborhood… meeting people and running into friends, learning dog socializing behavior, and soon… being pulled at high speeds toward interesting scents. This is the first time she saved my life.

Months later, in a new city, she alerted me to an impending intruder climbing into my bedroom… scared the creep off with her deep authoritative bark. “Wuh-oof”. This, of course, was the second time.

There are many many stories to tell. Stories of funny games, a lab who could outrun a “show” Australian Shepherd (and lost a tooth doing it… but oh was I proud of her for getting to the ball first after that guy bragged and bragged about how great his dog was!), selling your soul for the chance to chase a tennis ball, bounding through snow drifts like a deer, and the day jennimi discovered liver treats. And maybe I will tell those stories. But right now I am mourning the loss of one of the best friends I have ever had. Dan Bern wrote in his beautiful song, Estelle,

You know, the best friend I ever had was a dog
It sounds like a cliche unless it’s happened to you
Some days that dog was the only reason I even got out of bed

I know what he means. Josie got me up and out of bed more times than I can count. She was always ready to greet the world, and her enthusiasm was contagious.

In recent months Josie’s arthritis kept her from climbing up into bed with me. It also began to interfere with the walks and ball toss she loved so. I was awakened throughout the night by her panting, pacing, quicker bladder, tummy ails… dutifully and (usually) without complaint I tended to her needs. Sometimes I knew what she needed and sometimes I had to guess. More and more, it was the latter. Frustrated by my inability to always solve the problems, I didn’t mind continuing to try. But I finally had to ask myself that most difficult question: did she mind? When she began refusing her favorite foods, not holding anything down, not making it down stairs, and perish the thought, letting tennis balls roll limply out of her reach without trying to catch them, I knew in my heart what the answer was.

When I brought Josie into my life, I carried her that first night into my bed because I couldn’t bear her pain. On the morning Josie died, I became aware she was in the most pain she’d ever endured, and trusting me to carry her to comfort. My mom, Scott and I spent the rest of the morning giving treats, taking photos, taking a short walk together, and most importantly cuddling. She was such a cuddle bear, to the very end. We rolled down the car window and she rode as she always did, with her beautiful face out the window and her ears flapping. At a red light at Amherst and Parkside, the woman in the car next to us smiled and coo’d at her. This was my Josie. She made everyone smile. And this is the image and thought that I cherish as my eyes tear and heart aches. The house is so quiet.

I posted a retrospective on my flickr site, here (http://www.flickr.com/photos/jennx/sets/72157594464819206/). I would also like to thank everyone at Central Park Animal Hospital in Buffalo, NY – Drs. Latson and Persico, Katie, and the entire staff, for the superb advocacy and care they provided to Josie for 13 1/2 years. Thank you also to Dr. Kimberly Stanz who performed her eye surgery and gave Josie another year and a half with us. Thank you also to anyone who ever asked about her, petted her, taught her something, gave her a treat, smiled at her, or was patient when she jumped on you. It just meant she loved you.

If you have found this post because you are going through the death of a pet, my sympathies on your loss. I found a nice collection of resources for dealing with the loss of a pet here (http://www.ability.org.uk/pet_loss.html). Thank you for visiting and reading.

tag: josiethedog, petloss, deathofpet, lossofpet