Friendly Farewell

Fetch thy hanky from yonder dresser drawer … this is a sad one. It took a couple days before I could write about this and, even now, I’m sure to be wiping tears and snot from my laptop (as you might too – consider your keyboard warned).

In late June I posted about taking my dog Dana to the vet for a cough. Fortunately it wasn’t long before we found the right antibiotic to cure it. Unfortunately, as we recently learned, the cough was a symptom of a bigger problem. When he became really lethargic after refusing to eat or drink for a couple days early this week, I took him back to the vet and had my fears confirmed. Blood tests showed that his kidneys were failing.

The docs assured me Dana wasn’t in pain, but made it clear that he was very sick. They gave me the treatment options, none of which sounded favorable for my dog or my checking account. Being the responsible caregivers that they are, however, I was also told that even the most aggre$$ive treatment offered no guarantee of recovery considering Dana’s age and condition.

Everything between the lines was clearly legible.

The trite thing to say is something about this being the hardest decision. Really, the medical diagnosis and my knowledge of Dana’s behavior made the decision itself considerably easy. What’s difficult is the reality of losing a friend and the twelve years of memories that have a nasty habit of rushing back at the most inconvenient time. Especially Thursday morning around 8:15 a.m.

There are a million little details about the past few days that could lend an even sweeter sadness to this post, but I’m not going share everything just to sap it up. Like my conversation with the nurse Wednesday about cremation remains and urn options that seemed straight out of The Big Lebowski. There’s no need to mention that. Or the fact that Dana’s walk to the vet Thursday morning was so comically slow it was almost as if he knew it was The Green Mile. What’s the point of including such a tidbit?

I’m grateful to have this cathartic outlet. If you read the blog, I assume you know me and want to offer your condolences in the comments. Really, though, I’d feel better if you all just go hug your dogs. And if you don’t have a dog, hug a strange dog (assuming the owner isn’t also strange) (or Michael Vick).

Dana was a good dog and a great friend. The last few days have been rough but there is a huge comfort knowing he isn’t suffering. I’ll miss him, of course, but I’ll also have plenty of opportunities to think about him since most of my computer passwords have some version of his name in there. Don’t bother trying to crack my bank login – all the money went to the vet.

For any friends of Dana who may not have seen him in a while, here are links to a few recent photos.

Nursing an injured foot last fall
Reluctantly wearing antlers last Christmas
Showing his spirit on Super Bowl Sunday
Sampling a nearby beach this spring
Hanging out on my parents' deck a few weeks ago