When is it Time to Say Goodbye?

            I don't return home to a loud bark or a wagging tail anymore. These days I go into the house with bated breath, wondering if the curled up ball of orange fur is going to open her eyes and gingerly arise so that I can lead her to the door to go out. I know there will come a day when her eyes won't open; when she won't get up. Actually we are hoping that will be the case. Neither Tom nor I have it in us to make the decision to end another pet's life. We did that with our cat and it was simply too traumatic for both of us. In fact, we swear he is haunting us because of it, but I'll save that story for another time.

Molly, our 14 year old Golden retriever/beagle mix has had several near-death episodes and yet death eludes her. One was nine years ago when she ate enough indoor-outdoor carpet to snake through her entire intestines and leave a loaf of bread sized ball of it in her stomach. But she was only 5 then and we couldn't end the life of a good dog just because of a little carpet-eating habit. Major surgery and about $900 later she was home and on the mend. In 2007 she had a severe injury in to her back that had us thinking "this could be the end" and yet again, with a little bit of doggy Motrin, she was back to her old self. About two years ago we started finding her standing in front of walls just staring, unresponsive. A trip to the vet came back with a diagnosis of dementia (we didn't know dogs got dementia either). The prognosis was 6-8 months and we sadly went home with another prescription to help manage pain. Once again she miraculously recovered. About a year ago she began leaving us presents of the most unpleasant kind. It wasn’t a life-ending problem. We just needed to be more diligent about letting her out and insisting she leave the porch. But you know when they start losing their ability to "hold it" the end is usually approaching.

             "We're nearing the end boys, (again), and you should start preparing yourselves to say goodbye to Molly-Moll" we sadly said. That was a year ago. I even started a little Facebook album called "Mondays with Molly" in which I'd post cute or funny pictures of her, thinking it would only go on for a few weeks. I finally quit after about 8 months. Earlier in the summer she had to be carried down the stairs. “This must be it,” we thought. I asked for prayers from friends. She hasn't been carried down since. She has arthritis and getting up and down is a bit of a struggle for her, but with her medicine she still manages to run laps around the yard like a dog half her age. Every bag of dog food I think to myself "This will probably be the last bag." The same is true with each new bottle of medicine. 

For Tom and I, the hardest part is knowing when is the time to say goodbye. Everyone we talk to tells us that we will just know when it's time. I'm pretty sure that Molly knows it's ultimately up to her and based on the past, I think she's just decided that she isn't going anywhere. And that's ok with me.

Let me Tell You About my "Children"

Back in January I eagerly entered this column in the Erma Bombeck Writing Competition. The results came out and I wasn't one of the winners, which was disappointing, but I can finally publish it. Enjoy!

I guess I just assumed that bragging about my children would always come naturally. Maybe not. A few weeks before Christmas, a neighbor of ours hosted a holiday open house as a sort of "get-to-know-you" evening. I should probably mention that our neighborhood isn't a young, up and coming area full of families with young kids. It is predominately people our age, (mid to upper 40's), and older. As we were chatting with folks we knew and acquainting ourselves with neighbors we didn't, I found myself talking mostly about our pets. People would ask about our kids and I would say, "We have two boys; one is 17 and one is 20. But let me tell you about our cats!" I seemed to blather on and on about how Nova is an expert mouser, or spent 45 minutes describing the medical concerns of our aging dog. The funny thing is the conversations like that were mutual. When do we stop bragging about our children and start swapping Instagram photos of our cats like I do with my friend Bridget? I have not seen one picture of an old friend's adult daughter on his Facebook page, but I could name every one of his 4 dogs. Our next door neighbor and I were discussing her previous dog, Ivy and also the current one, CJ, when she mentioned something about their son and daughter-in-law. Son? Those people have lived next door for 7 years and I had no idea that they even had children! And likewise, she couldn't get my kids' names straight but she could easily name our dog and recall the name of our last cat. I have known for a long time that the circle of life begins with your pets as "kids" and then when the real kids come along the pets become animals again. What I didn't know is that when you can't gush over those adorable pictures of your kids with green beans smeared over their faces anymore because they are now grouchy teenagers who want nothing to do with you, the next likely step is to revert back to those sweet furry friends who can't get enough of our affection. This went on and on at that party.
"Did you know the cute little dog on the corner, Angel, died? And what's the little girl's name again?"
"Yes, of course I know you. You are the one with the beautiful German Shepherds."
I'm sure this stage is temporary as we patiently await grandchildren. But until that time I'm going to need a bumper sticker that says "Let me tell you about my beagle/golden retriever mix."