Day 3402

Godspeed Dash. I'll see you on the other side. As Janet and I prepared to say our final goodbyes, I couldn't help but think that we'd done this way too often. We got up early this morning and prepared to make the long drive to the crematorium. These places all seem to be located in little rural communities, far from the city. It was still raining when we left the house and I was hoping that we wouldn't encounter a hailstorm. Our first stop was to pick up Dash at the cancer center. Two of his favorite nurses helped us place him in the car. They'd been with him through thyroid cancer, vestibular disease, a blood clot in the heart, and much more. We all knew this was the end of an era.

I wish pets didn't have to be placed in a freezer after they died. It must be a health regulation. Dash's fur was still soft and silky, but he was very cold. Death still seems strange and mysterious to me. The body looks exactly the same. It seems natural to want to talk to the dead, but you never get an answer. I read an article recently saying scientists now think that the brain lives on for a short time after death. I'm not sure if I like this. If Dash was still aware for a few additional moments, I hope he was comforted knowing that the two people who loved him most were still right there with him.

When we arrived at The Pet Loss Center, we wrapped Dash in his favorite blanket and sat quietly in a dimly lit room with him for a while. We remembered the good times and the bad. We probably only remembered a very small fraction of our time together. The other memories will come and go for the rest of our lives. Life with Dot and Dash was unique and special. Although both Dot and Dash were sick toward the end of their lives, they were basically very healthy dogs. We did so much together.

Since we didn't want to make the long drive to the crematorium twice, we stayed in the area while Dash was being cremated. After watching as Dash's body was placed in the retort, we had lunch in a small country restaurant the crematorium staff recommended. While we waited to pick up Dash's ashes, we enjoyed one of the best meals we've had in a long time. This family restaurant has been in the same location under the same management since 1956. The menu and prices were like traveling back to our childhood in a time machine. Our Moms made this kind of food.

There are now six little urns on our coffee table. Each dog had their own personality, but they were all definitely Dalmatians. There's something special about a Dalmatian that you're not going to understand until one of these dogs joins your family. Fun times. I just wish dogs lived longer.

I took a long walk after we returned to Dallas. I need to get some better walking shoes, but I think I'm going to be doing a lot of walking this year. While I was out today I met a photographer who was taking pictures of owls. There were two large owls, a Mom and a Dad, who were keeping guard over a nest with two baby owls. The guy said the babies weren't ready to fly yet, but that occasionally they  would stick their heads out of the hole in a dead tree where they were living. We traded stories about animals we'd seen in the park and then I continued on my way. Maybe I'll come back and take pictures of these owls someday.

I took the trash out to the curb tonight. It was the only thing that seemed normal about today.

Mattie is today's Dalmatian of the Day

Watch of the Day

Day 2726

I'm tired. I mowed the grass, I went to the gym, I did some laundry, and I took Dash on two walks; all on very little sleep. Basically, this was just a typical Sunday, except I substituted mowing the grass for vacuuming the house.

The rat is gone. It didn't end the way I wanted it to. In fact it ended horribly. I was awakened about 3 AM by an awful commotion in the atrium. Instead of heading for one of the two Havahart traps where he would have been completely safe, the rat activated the kill trap. Even though the packaging on this trap said "guaranteed to kill rats instantly," the rat was still alive. It was making a terrible sound and dragging the trap all around the atrium.

I guess this shows that you'd better be careful what you wish for. I wanted the rat gone, but not this way. I got dressed, found a large bucket in the greenhouse, and proceeded to catch the dying rat and put it in the bucket. I had to bring the rat inside the house to take it out the back door, because the only entrance to the atrium is a large sliding glass door in the living room. There was no way to comfort the injured animal. I just had to watch it die.

I had trouble going back to sleep. I felt like this was my fault. I had the best of intentions with the Havahart live traps, but once the rat managed to escape from the live trap that first evening, it would never go inside them again. I've had to deal with a large rat inside the house once before and I didn't want to face this challenge again. Once, a rat fell down a standpipe on the roof, swam through the plumbing and jumped out of the toilet. It scared the hell out of me. I had a hard time catching that rat, so you can understand why I wouldn't want another one in the house. At least I wasn't sitting on the toilet at the time.

I felt melancholy for most of the day. Nothing really happens the you expect it will. I've been surprised again and again. If you had asked me in my thirties what I would be doing at sixty-nine, my answer wouldn't have any relationship to what I am actually doing today. Sometimes I wonder if there is any point in planning at all. Like the poet Robert Burns said, "The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry."

I definitely don't have a plan for tomorrow. There is certainly a long list of things that need to be done. I think it's time to test Dash's triglyceride levels again. I need to ask the vet whether he needs to fast for 12 hours or 24. I sure hope it's just 12. I need to make an appointment for my annual physical as well. I've been so busy taking dogs to the vet, that I've kind of been ignoring my own health. I need to call the landscapers again. They seem to have forgotten about us. So many things to do and I can't get excited about any of them. I'll make my coffee in the morning, drink my fruit smoothie, and we'll see what comes next.

Willa is today's Dalmatian of the Day

Watch of the Day

Day 2717

We got up early this morning and took Dot on her final journey. For as long as we've had dogs, we've always wrapped them in their favorite blanket when they passed away and driven them to be cremated ourselves. It was a long drive this morning, but it gave Janet and I a chance for closure. We talked about our favorite memories with Dot and when the time came, I lifted Dot up and placed her on the brick floor of the retort as we said our final goodbyes. Maybe it's just a silly symbolic gesture, but I always feel better knowing that I was there until the very end.

Death is such a strange process. One minute you're alive and then a few seconds later, you're not. The body looks exactly the same, but the spirit has vanished. As I stood next to Dot at the crematorium and stroked her soft ears, it seemed like she was just sleeping. She looked peaceful and remarkably similar to the dog I've watched sleeping next to me on the floor for the past year.

I have no idea how a dog's mind actually works, but I hope that Dot had come to terms with the temporary nature of life before she passed away. I not sure either of my parents came to terms with death and I'm not sure I will either. Life is very fragile. I think all of us should embrace and make the most of the gift of life, but I don't think we should fear death either. It's going to happen to all of us.

When my Dad died, I was the only one who sat in a room and talked with him just before he was cremated. Nobody else in the family wanted to face death that closely, but I found this time peaceful and comforting. I had a long conversation with my Dad. I thanked him for all the opportunities he'd given me over the years and chided him for being such an idiot to fall for one of those Nigerian prince scams toward the end of his life. We weren't always close, but this was one of the better conversations we'd ever had.

Dot knew that we loved her, but as I talked with her in the crematorium's viewing room, I wondered if she realized what a huge influence she had on me. This small dog had made me a better person. Janet and I were quiet as we returned to Dallas. We both knew that there was a large hole in our lives that would take a while to fill.

I'm glad we made the trip when we did, because later in the day there was a horrendous thunderstorm that caused localized flooding all over the place. If we'd been on the road in that storm, our trip would have taken ten times as long. I had planned on returning to pick up Dot's ashes later today, but I'm glad I didn't. Dash was terrified of the loud thunder and I spent a good part of the afternoon sitting under a makeshift blanket tent on the bed with him.

The power flickered this afternoon, but it didn't go out. Janet's drive home from work took forever, but at least the road wasn't underwater like it was in some parts of the city. We had a nice quiet dinner as the storm subsided. As we looked around a house strewn with traction rugs, dog beds, gates, and improvised pens designed to keep Dot safe, we realized that it was going to be a long time before life returned to normal.

Charlie is today's Dalmatian of the Day

Watch of the Day