Life meanders like a path through the woods. We have seasons when we flourish and seasons when the leaves fall from us, revealing our bare bones. Given time, they grow again.

KATHERINE MAY

During my formative years my parents always kept a dog. Four years ago Bob and I adopted a small beagle from a rescue shelter. She was very, very timid. The shelter had brought her from the wilds of Kentucky. They believed she had run away from a breeder. When they spayed her somehow the vet knew she had delivered two sets of puppies. They also had to pull many of her teeth. It is believed she had chewed her way out of a metal cage that the locals there called a coop. She broke off many of her teeth doing that.

We brought her home and did our best to get her settled. We gave her toys and she had no clue what to do with them. We would roll a ball and she would watch it as if to say, “So?” Eventually she relaxed in our company.

She thoroughly enjoyed her first pup cup of Starbucks whipped cream!

She learned how to help Bob drive.

About 4 months after we adopted her she was attacked by a pit bull in the neighborhood. We rushed her to the vet for an emergency Sunday visit. It was my birthday. She had head trauma, puncture wounds and soft tissue injuries. It was terribly frightening. She recovered and so did we. Bob followed through on getting that dog out of the neighborhood.

When we moved from Siesta drive to Platform street, she really came into her own. She began to think that yes, everyone could be a friend. She was convinced that certainly those visiting our house came to see just her.

Time rolled by. We loved her dearly and she in turn began to show a little affection for us. She has only barked a few times over the years, usually going many many months in between episodes. Even as a beagle she never bays or howls.

She is like my silent companion until we put her on a leash. Then she becomes the nose on legs. She has grown front shoulders like a football player and can hold her place while she reads her “pee-mail.”

About a year ago she began to show some pain in one back leg. Then it subsided and we thought no more about it. We did get her canine glucosamine chondroitin tablets. We bought a new couch and put a fabric cover on it. Her favorite place has always been lying on the couch and we allow that. She asks for so little.

I’ve taken to calling her “Beagley-beag.” She is also known as Luck-Luck and a variety of other terms of endearment. I talk to her throughout the day. If we have been gone from the house a few hours she greets us with little whines as if to ask, “Where have you been?” If we had reason to kennel her while we were away she comes out of her crate giving us a piece of her mind. It sounds like, “How dare you? Don’t you know I will be good?” She knows how to bawl us out without a single bark.

When I had shoulder surgery in January she would sometimes want to get up on the couch and had difficulty doing it. She would even cry for me to pick her up but I was unable to lift her while wearing the sling for 6 weeks. I made her a pillow bed on the floor. Occasionally she would screw up her courage and jump up on the couch. That became more and more rare.

She needed a bordetella injection and I was concerned about her refusal to jump up, so I took her to a new vet in March as the other vet had stopped offering boarding and gone corporate. The new vet put her on two medications for her leg pain and asked that she come in for more blood work before they would refill the one Rx. They wanted x-rays of her legs. We refused the x-rays as we do not plan to submit her to surgery.

When we went to the Smoky Mountains in April we boarded her with our granddaughter who likely takes more indulgent care of her than we do! We were shocked when we returned after 4 days. She had declined drastically. She could barely walk. When she did walk she held her tail with a strange bend in it as if trying to improve her balance. Whereas in the past this dog always had to be on a leash or she would take off, now we could drop the leash in the yard and she would not move. A couple times I took her out to “do her business” and she would just lie down. Bob used to walk her about a mile every morning. Now she can barely make it three doors down the street and back.

I began to grieve sensing that her time on earth without suffering had passed. I know, I have messed up this blog with past tense and present tenses all intermingled. Suffice it to say it is just simply difficult to write this out.

We decided to return to the vet that we had left. They have treated her the entire time she has been in our care. They agreed that she is definitely suffering. They offered a monthly injection for osteoarthritis (which the other vet had offered, too). We decided to try it for one or two months to see it is improves her particular condition. The vet says the problem seems to be in her back “knees.” We are weaning her off one medication. Once that is out of her system they might try a steroid medication if she still has not improved from the injection.

The quote at the top of this blog set me off on this telling. Here are a few of the bare bones of my grieving. I never mean to get attached to our pets, yet I do and I love them freely. I have a better understanding now of why farmers say they do not want animals in the house. Once you name them, and house them, and live day-to-day with them it is that much harder to let them go when the time comes.

One neighbor said she wished her 12 year old Corgi could just out live her. Too hard to let go. Another said it is not fair that they die while in our care. I do not want to embrace the alternative of not having a pet. Bob has stressed repeatedly how difficult it is at our ages (read 70’s) to walk and care for a pet. This particular beagle refused to just go outside and “do her business.” She insists on being walked. So there is the conundrum of what to do when she passes. Bob said I can have another dog I really want one. I know if we get another it would need to be half of Lucky’s weight. At 27 pounds she is just too heavy for me to carry.

Recently the Lord reminded me that Lucky is on loan to us. I will try my best to trust the Holy One with her future. I am praying for grace and strength to release her peacefully when it is time. Watching her suffer is so very difficult.

A righteous man has kind regard for the life of his animal,
But even the compassion of the wicked is cruel.

Proverbs 12:10 AMP