I have cried my eyes during the day- when the Doctor called to tell me that she had a growth in the colon that had extended to the liver, that it looked like cancer and that her prognosis was very poor- that no treatment was really available for her. I walked for an hour thinking about her, how much she had given me, how happy she had made me and how much I needed her. And I cried more than once during that hour.
As I talked with Barbara and with Sara, I cried- I could not hold back my tears knowing the pain felt by my wife and my daughter - the pain of losing a member of the family.
When I saw her for the last time and held her I cried- knowing that I would miss the petting, her rolling over on her back to be petted on the belly, the paw in the air asking for more. That I would never see her wag her tail when I came into the room and she saw me. That I would never be able to sing "Good Morning Zoecita, Good Morning Perrita" as I came into the kitchen every morning to find her waiting for me, most of the time wagging her tail, sometimes, still in her crate, laying on her back waiting for her belly rub.
No more Zoe, getting on top of Barbara, early in the morning, waking her, to let her know that she was there and that she wanted to be touched.
No more Zoe waiting for my by the door, waiting even when I was not yet there - she waited because she wanted me home.
No more Zoe, running up the stairs to be at the same level of my head, so that I could pet her head so I would not have to bend- or maybe to be able to see into my eyes.
I cried as I held her that last time, the way I had held her so many times, with her comfortably nestled in my arms- she really liked to be held like a baby.
She died peacefully, comfortably, humanely and with Barbara and I close to her. I know she was aware of our love
Dog owners have only good things to say about their dogs- I am no different.
For 9 + years she brightened our lives, she made us feel needed and she gave us her unconditional love, asking nothing in return. She forgave us when we, without malice, would hurt her, when injecting incorrectly her insulin, when stepping on her when she was not visible in the kitchen floor- she never held any grudges. Short memory, maybe- I really think it was a big heart - unconditional love.
She trusted us all the way and communicated with us with no difficulty.
She was happy when we got home- just because we were home (the treat that I gave her had nothing to do with it) and she cried when we left. She liked to be with us, made us feel special. She would go up and be with Barbara in the bed, or, sometimes, come down and lay on the basement when I was in the basement.
She always was happy to go for a walk- she was so excited! They were long and, generally, satisfying walks- she had to smell every spot where another dog had left their mark.
