Wednesday, May 16, 2007

3 Dogs tonight

I buried Lucky today.

Lucky is the Dalmatian that Dad took in in 1997. She was a stray who showed up (probably) after being dumped, when some dumbass parents with a spoiled-ass child bought a dalmatian puppy after seeing "101 Dalmatians" - and then learning that Dalmatian puppies grow up to be Dalmatian dogs, which the asshats weren't ready to deal with. So they take the dog out into the country, and dump her in a ditch somewhere.

Anyway, she spotted the pawprint on Dad's gate that said "Dogs welcome here", and paid enough attention to Dad that he thought she was worth something.

I remember him telling me about her. I was living in Virginia at the time, and he told me about this Dalmatian who paid SUCH close attention - always watching what he was doing, following him around, etc... enough that he paid to have her heartworms treated. Yeah, the asshat previous owners hadn't given her anti-heartworm meds either.

Vet estimated she was about 2 years old then. She was Daddy's dog for eight years, and then mine for nearly two.

But, being born is a death sentence, sooner or later... and Lucky has been steadily losing strength and coordination for a while now. Today I took her to the vet, to see if there was anything wrong that could be treatable, or if it was just a terminal case of old age... turns out it was the latter.

I took her back to Daddy's this morning, and let her walk around and sniff stuff, and pee on everything that needed peeing on. She seemed very happy. If you don't know what a dog smile looks like, well, this isn't for you.

She got to be a four-footed spotty hobbit also - I took a can of Alpo with me, and she greatly enjoyed her "second breakfast". Walked all over together, enjoying the place where she lived eight great years. Then we went to the vet, and they asked me to leave her there, since I didn't have an appointment and they weren't sure when the vet could see her, but they assured me the vet would call me when he could see her.

He called late this afternoon. We talked, and he said there wasn't anything wrong that could be treated - it was just plain old age. So... there we go. It was time.

I took one of Dad's old sheets to the vet's office with me, and my good friend Tommy went with me also. Good thing; we wrapped Lucky up in the sheet, and Tommy drove back to Dad's. I might could have, but it probably wouldn't have been smart.

Then Tommy and I dug Lucky's grave (I'd been putting that off, in case the vet found something wrong that could be treated). We re-wrapped her in Daddy's bedsheet, and buried her not far from Daddy's house. Bud helped with that part, and thanks go to him as well.

Buster, Buddy, and Edgar don't seem to notice her missing yet... I'm guessing that will change shortly, around dinnertime. I don't know what will happen then.

To quote my Uncle Alex: "Durned old dogs" He's buried a few also... and it doesn't seem to get easier.

Lucky lived a good long time longer than she would have, had Daddy not taken her in... the heartworms would have killed her pretty soon. So I guess that's good. Doesn't make it easier to say goodbye, though.

Goodnight, Lucky... Tell Daddy, Furrball, and Taylor "Hi" for me. Then have fun playing with them.


Blogger Dick said...

It gets no easier.
They are family, no question.
I'm sorry.

7:44 PM  

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