Category Archives: Dogs

Pearl

This is going to be sad.

Pearl has been gone for two months, just before her thirteenth birthday.

I’ve been putting off writing about this because it hurts, and because it feels like it just happened. When I get up in the middle of the night, like I did an hour ago, I’m still taking care not to step on her in the dark, even though she’s not there. This house is unbelievably quiet, and I miss her terribly.

Pearl ran this place, even when her arthritis and hearing loss meant she stopped meeting us at the door. She pawed at the refrigerator and stared a hole in me as a reminder that I hadn’t given her an after-breakfast treat. Pearl loved her leather couch, and chest divot rubs, and licking chins. She had a switchblade back right leg.

She wanted to know where everyone was, including the little dogs whom she tolerated but secretly loved. When she couldn’t make it out to the yard, she watched us from the patio, or from a patch of cool grass. Pearl was 100% Momma Dog.

She snorted and snored and farted and panted all the time, and as the invisible tumor made it hard for her to breathe, she only got louder. This is why our house is so quiet now, and I remember that the quiet is actually a good thing.

Before her last trip to the vet, Simon gave her a hug and a kiss and said “Bye, Pearl!” And at the vet, I rubbed her ears and held her head for her last breath and said the same thing.

My mother told me that when I was going through a rough time, she knew that Pearl was taking care of me. This is absolutely true, and a wonderful tribute to a truly unique soul.

“Why do I call you Peach? Because you’re round and fuzzy on the outside and sweet on the inside!”

Maggie

This is going to be sad.

Maggie is gone.

She had been sick for the last several months with nearly every horrible thing that can happen to a Boxer dog, and finally it just became too much. We took her to the emergency vet on Sunday and she didn’t come home. She’s better off, the pain is gone, she has found peace, and so on. All the standard things people always say absolutely apply here, and as usual, none of them help very much.

Maggie knew how to press the top of her head right into my chest when I needed it. Maggie smelled like maple syrup. Maggie loved having her belly rubbed, and cheese, and her big pillow on the couch. Maggie hated thunderstorms and wanted to hide under my office desk until they were over. Maggie limped out on arthritic hips and a bum leg to hop around in the yard under the giant oak tree with me because no matter how old she got or how much it hurt, she was still a puppy on the inside and she wanted to play.

Maggie was the first dog to notice Simon in his crib as we brought him home, and I will never forget the amazing look on her face when she saw him.

For eleven years, this beautiful, soulful dog loved me and I loved her. I have a 77 pound hole in my chest, and it hurts. I hope it always does a little bit; in that way, she’s still here.

Shady Might Be Four

Yesterday was the day we decided to call Shady’s birthday. She’s considered four, though she’s really a Permanent Puppy, and those are ageless.

One year ago yesterday, we miraculously got her back after this sequence of events:

Horrible life with previous owner (she lived under a bed for a year)
Return to the Humane Society
A couple of months alone in a visiting room with little attention (the main kennel was too stressful)
Nine days as a foster dog with Molly and Tess
Twelve hours placed with a potential adoptive home
One stupid decision by that potential adoptive home to put a special needs dog alone in a backyard with a crappy fence
Three weeks on the street in and around Cooper-Young in below-freezing temperatures, apparently including a few trips to some truly scary neighborhoods
A heart-stopping moment where we followed up a great tip from someone who saw one of our 200 signs and we actually laid eyes on her
A frustrating couple of hours of being chased by us and neighborhood kids around train tracks and abandoned scrap yards (she was too scared and freaked out to come to us)
Three days of being actively hunted by us around the clock
A full-on canvassing effort by several generous Humane Society dog-walking colleagues to locate and help catch her
Me seeing her cornered in a mess of scrap metal, climbing down in there, picking her up, and handing her to Molly

And now, she’s a wonderful, happy, well-adjusted snugglepuppy. Her meds certainly help, as does being part of a pack in a protective and loving environment. She sleeps between the pillows in her puppy pocket, she snores and grunts and yawns like a beagle, she chases Tess around a huge (and extremely secure) backyard, and most of all, she truly seems to enjoy her life.

A life that started all over, one year ago yesterday.