Friday, May 8th, 2009
My plan was to write something perky today. How my 10-year high school reunion was more fun than I expected – even if I did literally walk the heels off my shoes. How my mom, sister and I went to Fort Walton Beach for a few days and the weather was gorgeous and I have ridiculous-looking sunburn stripes because spray sunscreen apparently must be applied VERY carefully. How D is going to be off work for a whole month, so maybe we can get some much-needed maintenance done on the outside of the house.
But. I can’t write about perky things when Margot died this morning. She was one of my sister’s two dogs, but in this family, dogs are not just animals. They are our beloved friends and also our family. Margot – nicknamed Moo Moo – was a sweet girl, a rescue my sister coaxed from being a terrified, abused dog to a comfortable and happy one. She had expressive eyebrows, excessive fur, and a passionate love affair with food. She liked to spring off the ground with all four legs when you were cooking something tasty in the kitchen, hated being crowded on the couch or riding in the car, and loved rolling around and playing with her brother Lewis. For four years, she’s been my sister’s baby, Lewis’ friend and sibling, and just a plain good dog.
Her death was very sudden. One day she was running around with the pack of dogs at Mom and Dad’s house – when my sister comes home to visit, there are four – and the next day she was lethargic, weak, and refusing to eat. For the past two days, she had been on fluids via IV with no response, and the vet said her tests strongly indicated kidney failure. He said the treatments could make her bounce back, but she would never be quite the same girl.
My sister took her home to Georgia last night after a final fluid treatment, planning to take her to her regular vet there this morning. Instead, Margot died in the night. This morning, her brother Lewis was still curled up beside her.
I am glad that Margot died the way she did – at home, next to her mama and her brother. That my sister was spared the pain of having to make a decision about continuing with expensive treatment that might not save her.
But I don’t even know what to say. I loved Margot. I love my sister, and her baby is gone.
We all know this is inevitable when we bring pets into our lives. We know they will only be with us for so long, yet we can’t hold ourselves back from loving them so much. And we wouldn’t want to.
Today, I’m hugging my four babies a little longer, a little tighter. I want to love them as much as I can while I can.