No More Shadow

I can now walk from room to room unhindered.

When I turn I don't have to wait for someone to turn around, too.

Everyone says that fifteen years is a long time. No, it's not long enough.

My depression is really rearing it's ugly head. I am taking lots of naps. When I am asleep I don't hurt. But every time I awake I look for him. In that one brief second I forget that I no longer have a little buddy.

He was my buddy, my little man, my Bubba. He was my reason for getting up in the morning and the one that I spooned with at night. He was my velcro dog. He was my shadow. He was my heart and my life.

And now he is gone.

Mary's Maximillian

November 16th, 1999 to February 12th, 2015

He had Cushing's disease that caused pancreatitis and renal failure. And I was in denial. I took him to the vet thinking that they could give me a fix for his tummy troubles and we would be okay. But we weren't okay.

In the end I could not be selfish, although I really wanted to be.

I do have a kitty, Pinky, but she is not a cuddly kitty. She comes to me a few times a day for pets and to get me to give her wet food.

I am trying to feel better by binge watching Breaking Bad. And that is comforting.

But my heart aches for one more hug, one more walk, one more look into those old eyes that never showed me anything but adoration.

I feel lost and off-kilter without him.

My heart is shattered.

I have no more shadow.

Dealing With An Old Dog

It's official. My little black cocker spaniel has been called a very old dog by his vet.

My Max turns 15 this month. He went to the vet for his shots (he needs his dip-tet - from Raising Arizona) and for him to be shaved in certain areas.

He barely hears. I have to speak very loudly to him. His sight is not the best. When he drops part of a treat I often have to pick it up and give it to him because he can't find it. And I guess that means that his nose isn't as keen as it once was.

His appetite has diminished. It is hard to find something he is interested in eating. The vet says give him whatever he will eat, dog food wise. He currently is eating a grain free lamb and rice dry and lamb and rice canned food. He seems to like it. Since he is getting more canned food than dry I am to mix two teaspoons of plain yogurt and two tablespoons of low fat cottage cheese to his food and hopefully that will even out some potty problems.

His back legs will give out when he is sitting up or standing up. I am to give him a baby aspirin in the morning and at night. Because of his advanced age the vet does not want to give him a prescription anti-inflammatory.

Now that it is cooler we can go out more without the risk of over-heating. He shouldn't get over excited because of his enlarged heart. If there is excessive panting I am to bring him right back to the vet.

He is still the same loving dog he has always been. Everyone who meets him just goes on and on about what a good dog he is. And I agree.

He has been with me through a lot, has gotten me through a lot, and now it is my turn to make sure to do the best for him.


"Blessed is the person who has earned the love of an old dog." --- Sydney Jeanne Seward


I feel so blessed to have him. And maybe tonight as we spoon on the bed (he has to sleep that way unless it is very hot) I will hold him just a bit tighter.

I will hold him to my heart and never let go.

My Little Old Man

My feelings have been hurt for a couple of weeks now.

Max, my 14 year old cocker, is my life. He has helped me through some pretty bad times. When I was recovering from surgery to have my right inner ear removed he stayed by my side 24 hours a day even though I had to crawl for the first two weeks that I was home (I had to learn to balance with only one inner ear).

Well, for a couple of weeks now, when I would go to tousle his little top knot, he would shy away from my hand for a moment. It was really like he was afraid I was going to strike him. Since he has never been hit in his life I was wondering what it was that I could have done.

Then yesterday I was looking deep into his eyes (yes, I do that) and I realized something. Although his eyes have been cloudy with age for some time now I suddenly saw just how bad they really are. So now I move more slowly when I go to pet him on the top of his head and he has no problem. I feel bad, thinking that I was scaring him. My heart hurts knowing that he is going blind. I knew it would probably come as he got older but this is a lot for me to handle. I suffer from major depressive disorder and anxiety and he helps me with dealing with going outside and when I have panic attacks.

He is already going deaf. He no longer hears a soft knock at the door like he used to. I have been around older cocker spaniels before, so I knew this would be a part of his aging. But realizing his blindness in a flash like I did has left me so sad. It makes me love him even more, if that is possible, as now I realize that he will need me to be more careful with him.

That dog bed was the best $36.00 I ever spent! I miss him snuggling on the couch with me but he would no longer jump up by himself and, once I helped him up, I was afraid of him hurting himself by jumping down.

I will try to push the knowledge of his mortality out of my mind until it must be faced. I should still have a few years with him and I need to concentrate on making his life easier in his old age. He has been there for me, now it is my turn to be there for him.

Story In Contest Part 2

I want to sincerely thank everyone who went and liked my story in the contest last week.

It did not win BUT I lost to a woman who is an established author of ebook novelettes. So I think that I did very well for going up against a real writer.

Thank you again for all your help. I really appreciated how many likes I got and I also got quite a few lovely, lovely comments.

Here is the story, for those who want to read it but didn't get to go to the website.

PINKY

It had been a long day. I had spent all morning at a job fair, having recently lost a very good job. I just wanted to kick off the heels and relax but first my cocker spaniel, Max, had to be taken out.

After a quick outing I was in the process of changing my clothes when he told me he had to go out again. Those with dogs know that look. Even though I was hot and tired I decided better safe than sorry and once again attached his leash.

Once outside he began pulling me, something he never does. He was leading me straight over to a neighbor’s truck. When we arrived at the truck he did something else I have never seen him do. He climbed under the truck.

After only a moment, before I could get down to see what he was doing, he came back to me. Following him was a tiny gray and white kitten. She was meowing her little head off. I had not heard a thing, being deaf in one ear. Evidently he had heard her from inside the house.

She was pitiful. Skin and bones. I could see that she had ringworm around one of her ears and she was covered in fleas. The neighbor whose truck it was was outside and I asked him if she belonged to him. When he replied that she was not his, that he had never seen her, I knew that I had to help the poor thing.

I had very little money but I had enough to take her to the vet. In addition to the ringworm and fleas she had intestinal worms and had evidently suffered a blow to the head. She was blind in one eye and only about four weeks old. Why was such a baby outside all alone? I was incensed.

A few weeks later I found out where she had come from. Another neighbor had thrown her out of his house because she had scratched his niece. I told him that I had no intention of returning her to him if that was the way he treated a tiny kitten and he said fine, he didn’t want her anyway, that he had her mom and dad.

The following weeks were tough on the little cat I named Pinky. My older cat, Jasper, was none too fond of her but seemed to know that the little one was sick. It took quite a while to cure the ringworm and get rid of the intestinal worms. The poor thing would growl while eating. I got her over that by hand feeding her.

What Pinky did for me, though, was wondrous. I was extremely depressed and she perked me up, gave me new purpose. She gave me new hope. I started writing short stories and poetry again. When I took her to the vet I learned they were hiring and got a wonderful job in the kennel. How I loved feeding and playing with the dogs and cats!  

All this was seven years ago and Pinky is healthy and happy. She never grew very big, weighing in at only five pounds. The vet said this is most likely due to malnutrition of her mother. She bosses around the cocker spaniel who found her for me.

And a sweet afterthought is – the day he found her was my birthday.

Every Day Is National Pet Day

This morning I awoke in my usual position - one arm flung over my best buddy. He's a black cocker spaniel named Max. I thought that today would be a good day to write about dogs. Then later I was scrolling through Facebook and saw that it is National Pet Day. How apropos.

I have loved and had dogs all my life. In my childhood I ran the woods and fields with a black labrador retriever named B.C.. He showed up one summer day, and stayed. If I was outside, he was right with me. This was a long time ago and the neighborhood dogs ran loose. There were very few fences and even fewer people that kept their dogs chained. B.C. was the best dog a kid could have asked for. He could play fetch, chase after my bike, or just sit and listen as I poured out my secrets. When I was in high school a friend of mine said he was "a dog's dog" and the term fits.

One day there was a knock at the door. It was a neighbor asking if we still had "that black dog". For a moment my heart jumped into my throat. Was he going to tell us B.C. had been hurt or killed? But, no, he told us that he thought we might like to see something. Once at his house we saw that his golden retriever had just had puppies. Every one of them was black! Because my father held B.C. in high regard he agreed to us keeping one of the pups. I named him Ra. (I had just entered high school and had discovered Todd Rundgren.) Ra grew to be a 145 pound baby. He had a habit of lying in the dirt to the side of the front steps and surprising people with his deep, throaty bark when they came to the door in the dark. Of course they couldn't see him so it scared the crap out of them. But he wouldn't have hurt a fly.

There were other dogs in between then and now. Dogs we bought for the boys when they were small because every kid needs a dog.

But my Max is special. He was given to me 14 years ago, a tiny black ball of fluff. We have been through a lot, he and I. He's lived with kids and cats. My first grandson was a toddler when he was a puppy and the two would play and cuddle. When my ex-husband was drunk and took off with him in the car in order to hurt me, it was that that gave me the impetus to leave that relationship. The vet called me later that day to let me know that Max was there. My ex had let him get out of his van and get hit by a car. Max was very bruised but thank goodness it wasn't worse. But since then he has not cared for the vet one bit.

I developed Meniere's Disease. You get dizzy, fall down, and throw up. Leaning over could bring on an attack so Max learned to get up on the back of the couch for me to attach his leash for walkies. When I had to have one of my inner ears removed in order to quell that Meniere's he did not leave my side during my six week recovery. I had to move his food and water into the bedroom because I realized he would not leave my side to eat and drink.

I never let him develop the common cocker trait of barking his fool head off at every little thing. He has disliked only a handful of people, and it always turned out that he was right in his judgement. Everyone loves him. In my apartment complex there are people who initially said they hate dogs that now pet him and coo over him when we meet.

Time passes. I used to joke that my dog was my doorbell but now he often does not respond to knocks at the door. His once bright, glistening eyes are now getting cloudy. The vet says it is just age. Just age. He now uses stairs to get on and off the bed. And I recently bought him a dog bed with orthopedic foam and he enjoys it when we are in the living room. He used to be snuggled against me on the couch but he can't jump up there anymore and I am afraid of letting him jump down. But he is still like a young dog on our walks. He does enjoy going walkies.

So, to Max, happy National Pet Day. Thank you for being my dog, my love, my reason to get up in the morning. Thank you for being a good dog. Good boy.