So it's been almost a week since we tearfully but dutifully escorted Dana to dog Since last weekend, friends and family provided many comforting phone and email greetings as well as a very thoughtful card (pictured above) that came in the mail yesterday. Everyone – especially those who have been through this – did a fine job providing counsel on dealing with the grief, but no amount of advice can completely assuage the sadness of little reminders.
Perhaps the most unexpected pang came when I arrived from work last Friday. Since I got Dana while still in college, I never knew coming home from a day at work to an empty place. It wasn't as fun as trying to keep an excited dog from shedding on dress pants, but I'm adjusting. I'll also catch myself instinctively keeping food out of reach (Dana was a notoriously resourceful scavenger) and closing our bedroom doors on the way out of the house.
The other striking thing about the last several days are the flashes of crippling guilt over minutia. Looking back, it kills me to think about how mad I'd be when Dana decorated the kitchen floor with the garbage. Or those times I complained about having to take him on a walk because I was exhausted or it was raining. For as much as I hate to reduce the human experience down to a mechanical "process", it's some comfort knowing such misplaced guilt is part of a grieving process and will subside with time.
Meanwhile, of course, the good news is that those regrettable moments are far outnumbered by fond memories, several of which I was reminded of through friends' recent correspondence ...
... like the time before Dana was "fixed", when my friend Patrick and I walked in the living room to find Dana defiling a pillow to the thumping beat of Lenny Kravitz's "Are You Gonna Go My Way?" which blared from the stereo speakers. As we laughed hysterically, puppy Dana looked up at us like "You guys gotta try this!" That day Dana became a man ... and a proud owner of his very own pillow (thereafter known as Daphne).
... or the night my old roommate Matt made sure to put a newly-purchased Entemann's cake far back on a high kitchen counter before he and I went out for the evening. As we left, Matt actually dared Dana to reach the thing. When we returned home that night, sure enough, the floor was littered with ripped-up box and Dana's bed was covered with incriminating cake schrapnel. To this day, forensics experts have no idea how he did it.
... finally, there was the time a few years ago during a killer thunderstorm when I couldn't find Dana anywhere in our small two-bedroom apartment. After a frantic search of our place as well as the stairwells and back yard, I pulled back the shower curtain to discover a trembling dog hiding from the thunder in our tub. It was far too adorable not to preserve the moment in pictures (click).
If you made it through this post, thanks again for letting me get all cathartical.
I promise this won’t turn into a year-long online memorial to my dog. And if it does, I’ll at least change the name to DeceasedDogDailyBlog.com.
11 comments:
oh how this makes me cry and cry. I'm so sorry, bud. I think it's awesome that you are writing down the memories. That's the way to go I think. I'm always way to wrecked to do that and always regret it.
hang in there.
I won't be able to hear a Lenny Kravitz song without thinking of Dana - and Daphne. I don't care if you like dogs or not; that has always been a funny story!
Glad to hear you and Brooke made it through the week okay. Take care . . .
Dana will be missed. Ollie dog is handling it better than expected, and is giving Betty (his dog bed) some good lovin in Dana's honor.
Dana had only been around for about a week when he tried to strangle himself. This was before the pillow humping incident (which went, I admit, from incident to regular show).
He and I were sitting in the family in our crappy student house right off of Dana Avenue. I was on the giant couch watching tv and he was spread out over a heating grate on the floor taking a nap. I don't remeber if John or Albaugh was there. One or the other was but I don't remember which.
Anyway, omething happened and caused him to jump up.
Unfortunately, the collar he had at the time was a little too big (because he was tiny)and the ring on the end of it had slipped down into the grate and gotten caught, effectively turning his collar into a noose.
A noose he was now pulling against and wailing like a dog-banshee (a dogshee). At least for the first couple of seconds until the air supply ran out.
I scared the crap out of him further (not literally) by spring across the room to him. That (thankfully) made him flatten down so he could breath again, which in turn made him stand up and start choking.
All the while I can't get the damned collar loose. Finally, after what seemed like a hour but was probably only 10 seconds I just pull the whole grate out of the floor and pick him and it up, which freed him.
We were both so traumatized that we just sat on the couch and ate Doritos for the rest of the day.
Poor buddy. I did love the picture of him in the bathtub. Every now and again.. our dog Taxi will 'make a bride' of one of his pillows. The crazy thing is.. he doesn't stop when I enter the room or even act embarrassed. Ahhh.. dogs their dedication to all calls of nature astounds me.
You know John, sometimes after a loss, and because you're so used to him being there.. you will see him out of the corner of your eye, and catch yourself thinking he's actually there - or, you think that you hear him prancing down the hallway, and have to shake yourself back to reality. I find that those times can be most difficult once you realize it's not him.
Hmmmm.. or is it? He could just be visiting from the other side....
(you know I'm not kidding)
Either way.. it is so incredibly sad to lose a loyal and dear friend.
We're keeping good thoughts for you!
Love you,
Aunt Corry
way TOO wrecked. My mom would kill me for that error. And they last thing we need is more death.
To Dana-
May the road rise to meet you, may the wind be always at your back, may there be endless amazing smells everywhere, and when I next am owned by a dog, may he be your equal.
Godspeed, good doggy.
Also, and this is the last thing I promise (until I think of something else), Dana kept a woman from getting raped once.
She was being assaulted in the yard next to our and he went all batshit snarling and barking, to the point where the guy ran off.
He got a steak that evening.
I was there for the grate incident.
Next time you're out & about, have a St. Pauli Girl in honor of the Monster. 'Twas his favorite malted beverage.
Oh Dana Monster. You will be missed.
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- Norman
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