Why Can’t Dogs Live Longer? 4

Why Can’t Dogs Live Longer?

The End of a Life

Tarps all over to protect the carpeting, every part of the living room covered looking as if we intended to paint. A once over energetic puppy that ran daily, had now turned grey. He used the walls and the furniture for stability as he walked as his lungs and heart filling with fluid. It was difficult for me to see him as anything but the overly anxious frisbee fanatic. My hugs on him always included the phrase, “You’re just a bay-bay!” and still did. Then he turned and gave me that look. If you’re a pet owner, you know the look. It’s an unmistakable look of desperation. “Help me”. I can’t imagine they are thinking, “please, bring me to the vet, and have them put me to my eternal rest.” No, they just look up to us humans as having all the answers. I imagine to them; we are a strange companion. We don’t age in comparison, always know where the food and toys are at every moment, and seemingly have all the answers. Not in this situation. So, I make the call. To the person on the other end of the line, it’s just another pet, just another day at the office. To me, this is my best pal of umpteen years. He’s been with me to support me during the loss of both of my parents, my father-in-law, friends, the loss of a pregnancy, three other dogs, one horse, and one parrot, one chronic illness diagnosis, and knows me better than most human companions.

I felt as we arrived as if I were in a dense protective fog. I held on tightly to my nine-month-old puppy and breathed into her freshly shampooed soft white coat. I noticed that due to wearing a mask, I could barely smell the soft rose scent of her. Ahead of me was my dear husband with my old Labrador Frisbee Retriever, Bongo, just a baby, a very old baby. It felt surreal and impersonal. No, it’s not that I’ve not had to do this before, it just never gets any easier. A complete stranger takes his leash, one with a fun chili pepper print all over it, that I had gotten because he was always such a hot energetic dog. I’m thinking this person has no understanding of what that old dog means to us, I overhear the receptionist on the phone nearby chuckling. I want to run over to her and yell at her to stop being so damn happy. A few minutes go by, and they roll my old boy back in on a stretcher. He’s been sedated and given a contraption inserted into a vein to make it easier to inject him with his final shot. We hug him and kiss his greying brown fur. I feel his soft ears, so soft, his ears are always so soft. The vet introduces herself and is very kind and understanding. Her tightly braided hair is pinned all around her head Swedish style. I’m not sure why I’m even noticing this. The places that the mind goes in such times truly baffles me. She mentions how much more our animals understand than what we could possibly know. I nod in agreement and allow my small white puppy a last kiss goodbye to her companion. We agree that he’s in pain and she needs to complete this morbid task as soon as possible. She injects him, and I hold him. My husband says, “it’s over, let’s go.” I refuse. Death doesn’t happen in an instant. She explains to us, as she walks away, that he may make sounds as his body releases life. I place my hand on him to feel his life release into the unknown. He takes his last breath, and I feel a very slight vibration on my hand and keep it there. The vibration gets quicker and quicker until I can no longer feel it anymore. At that point, I release him.

Where do they go?

So where did that energy go? Is he really crossing some beautiful rainbow bridge where he will be able to meet up with all his old pals? Will he see my parents? Will I be reunited with him again once I die? Why do we ever have to say goodbye in the first place? Why does it have to hurt so damn bad, and why can’t dogs live a whole lot longer?! This entire system feels so unfair. I must believe that he’s in a happier place or I don’t really understand what the point is. It’s times like this that I really have to recall all the times I’ve experienced signs and communications from the other-side of this world, as insane as some people may believe them to be. It’s this “insanity” that keeps me okay with anymore participation in this game of life. Right now, feels like a great time to recall a few.

Signs

Well, I did ask for a sign of course. Today, I woke up with eyes that are swollen from tears, a slight headache, and logged onto my computer to drink some java and logged into Facebook. The first thing there was a memory of past days, specifically a song. A very special song that I used to sing along with my father about every single time we were together: “Zippidy-do-da” That’s one heck of a sad song to me these days, it’ certainly doesn’t feel like a “wonderful day” to me. Then I think that perhaps it is a wonderful day in heaven. He’s no longer in pain. What are the odds that this song would pop up this morning of all days? Random? Maybe, maybe not.

Other experiences I’ve had have been more visual. One day after a shopping trip, back when we had two chocolate labs, myself and a friend had been pulling into my driveway, and my friend noticed the two dogs looking out of the window. Clear as can be I saw them too. Two labs not inside their crates but looking out the large front window of my home. I quickly assumed that my husband must have stopped at home for lunch, and not put locked them in their crates. I assumed that a couch or curtains or the garbage would be chewed up to bits and strewn all over the house. These dogs loved to play rough, and being young dogs at the time, enjoyed a good chew of about anything they could fit inside their mouths. Upon entering the house, the two labs were locked inside their crates and Bongo was bouncing up and down ready to get out. I know what I saw, and I know I wasn’t alone in what I saw. The friend that saw them was more of the scientific minded and had noticed the dogs first. At the time she had been a CSI investigator and not one to make things up either. It was clear to me then that yes, I saw the dogs, but not the dogs I had thought I saw, but the two previous dogs we had owned until their passing, just letting their presence be known named Sam, and Charlie. They just needed to say hello, perhaps so I would remember this now.

I could probably write a book of all the experiences I’ve had with pets, but some of the other ways we get hellos from them are hearing their names unexpectedly. I recall a week after losing my dear horse, Tiga, I was shopping at Sally’s Beauty Supply. Walking in the aisle, a little girl walked up to me and said, “Hi, I’m Tiga, what’s your name?” I about passed out. This was so random! From the other aisle, what must have been her mom, yelled, “TEEEEEEG! Get over here now!” I had to chuckle because that was exactly how I would yell out in the pasture to call to my mare to come in. Coincidence? I can’t believe that it was. Such a rare name, and I’ve never heard of anyone else with it, let alone a week after the passing of my dear beloved girl.

I know they are not mad at us after they go, so if you happen to be feeling that, please let it go. Just like us, they must focus on the happier times too. Otherwise, they would not be so eager to say hello to us. The veterinarian that helped us with Bongo was correct in that they know much more than we give them credit for. They feel deeply, they love deeply, and they communicate from the other side in the same way that people do. Most loved one’s that come through in my mediumship have a pet along with them. It may be a first dog from years and years ago or it may be a daughter or son’s pet they are with until we can be there to join them. Again, I don’t really understand why it must be so painful a process, but I imagine it is so that we appreciate each other while we can, because we don’t get forever with each other. At least not here.