I lost her yesterday

On Monday night we noticed Panda could not stand up. We watched her for awhile and then she got up on her own. The next morning she could not get up and I rushed her to the vet. They told me that Panda probably was having a heart attack of sorts and may have had a stroke. They let me stay with her while the rest of the family rushed over from work and school. I petted her and talked to her, and basically said goodbye. Everyone else got there pretty close to each other and we all talked with the vet about euthanasia. We knew Panda wasn't going to pull herself out of this and since she was twelve and a half years old the vet didn't have much hope of bringing her back around. After awhile, Dad asked if everyone was ready to get the vet, and my brother wanted a little time to say goodbye. Right after he stopped petting her and just as Dad was standing up to get the vet, Panda took a deep breath and left us right there. We were all so thankful that she made the decision for us.

It's strange how her death has affected me. When I struggled to load her into my car, keeping her thirty eight pounds wrapped up in a towel, and when I drove to the vet, I was sobbing. I cried throughout the experience. I think I knew when I came down and saw her that she wouldn't make it that day. But strangely I think I'm okay. I think it's because I got to say goodbye. Tiffy, my first childhood dog who died about two years ago, left us while I was at school and the family was out of town. Just two weeks before that Scout died unexpectedly in our backyard a day before I went back to college for the year. I don't think I've forgiven him yet, as silly as that sounds. But Panda was such a good girl, letting us get in our time with her and then keeping us from making such a hard decision.

This past year that I was home I worked extra hard on her coat to make it better and we made several outings just this past month. Of course, I still have to keep from referring to her in the present tense. And I have to say that I miss her very much. Today Mom and Dad and I took the other dogs for a walk and Panda was notably missing. When Mom came home from work, she didn't bark. And I've found myself wanting to sink my hands into her fur and pet her again. When she died I did that for a long time, memorizing what she looked like, what her fur felt like. I hate that I've forgotten things about some of our animals who passed away. I remember Tiffy well, but when I try to picture Scout, who was only with us for five years, I get his picture confused with our current Rat Terrier mix. The most memorable thing I have is the grunting noise he made when he was sniffing at something. He used to stick his nose in my ear and grunt. I have a good picture of her in my mind, but I cannot seem to translate it on paper. I also don't seem to have a very recent picture of her. Too bad. I wish I had gotten a picture of her carrying her toy. She was absolutely adorable with it.

I'm having some trouble remembering she's really gone. But then, sometimes I think I hear Tiffy's bark when I come in, and she's been gone over two years.