I wrote this April 30th, 2014 after our first dog, Maximus, passed away. As we are moving homes I found some of his old stuff and it brought back a lot of good memories. I thought this was a good time to recapture his passing and add in the newest member of the family, Chappel (below):
Dogs are commonly referred too as "Man's Best Friend" and I can attest to the truth in that statement. I have also seen a poster of a rescue dog & its' owner with the comment "Who saved who?", and there is a very deep truth in that statement.
Without the pain and grief of loss, how would we know the joy and happiness of love. There is a finite impermanence in every living being, an impermance which is unpleasant to face and impossible to prepare for. An impermanence which also reminds us of our own impending impermanence one day.
Maximus was 2 years old when diagnosed with Epilepsy, I remember his first seizure and thought he was dying. There were feelings of panic and the utter helplessness of not being able to help. From there we did phenobarbital treatments, some other medications, but the seizures continued. A side effect of either epilpsy or the meds was he became ravenously hungry and form there gained weight which resulted in thyroid problems. We stopped all the medications and I became a dog food chef (er, cook) and apparently a bad one b/c he would only eat my cooking for a few months.
The longer lasting effect was he developed Diabetes about 2 years ago. He dropped 20 pounds in a weekend, lost bladder control, could not walk and almost died from ketoacidosis.
As a pet owner (I hate "owner", we were family) there was the dreaded moment when faced with the costs of treatment versus the cost on non-action (death). I thankfully was able to afford the treatment, yet left that experience having empathy for those that cannot afford to save their pets, or have to make the decision to put them down.
We started the next treatment for diabetes, Insulin injections twice a day and prescription dog food. Repeat trips to the vet for blood glucose monitoring and insulin adjutments. The diabetes quickly showed it's affect in him developing sever Glaucoma, and within a few days was pretty much blind.
Sunday night Max passed away in our living room next to me. Even after multiple near death experiences with him, the routine thoughts of him dying or dying in the near future, knowing the medical stuff and all of that, I have found there is no preparing for that moment when the certainty of the end and the reality of impermance is reached.
I am grateful he passed quickly & painlessly, and selfishly glad he did not put me in a position to have to put him down or choose between money and his life. Maybe he knew and that was his last gift.With all of his medical conditions and ailments, he never once whined or complained, even in the last hour. He looked outwardly normal and people seemed amazed he looked so good after I told them his issues. I believe there is something to be learned from that, no matter what he faced he was strong, chest out, head up and tail wagging.
8 years goes very quickly, too quickly. The days roll by, live moves by faster and faster and it's normally not until times of loss that we take the time to reflect on all we have and how much we love, appreciate and cherish those around us we love.
It never really occurred to me how much a part of my daily life he was a part of. When I wake up, no Max to let out, no Max to feed, no Max to give meds, no Max to greet us when we come home, no Max to walk or let sleep in the bed. Liam asks about him, wants to feed him and get him water, wants to walk him. He doesn't understand, sometimes I wish I was 3.5 years old too b/c sometimes not understanding is easier.
I've had and have a lot of human friends, but until he came into my life I'm not sure if I ever had a "best friend". Good or bad he always accepted me and I always accepted him, even when I was cleaning up poop in the living room. We had our issues from time to time, he would usually win b/c he has sharp teeth, but we always worked it out. I believe that's what it's like to have a best friend.
I wish I was more creative and could write a poem or draw some art, but I think writing is sufficient and surprisingly cathartic, while slightly torturous going through the photos and memories. If there was ever such a thing as good pain, this might be it.
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