Suzi is dying. There is nothing I can do about it. Oh yes, I know death is the flip side of the life coin. Heads and tails. Sooner or later it comes up tails. Saying it is one thing. Living it is another.
Every day she dies a little bit and I die with her. I had no idea it would be this hard to lose a dog. Suzi and I have been together for 13 years. She’s a boxer-Golden Retriever mix with a total mind of her own. Call her to “come” and Suzi looks around to see if she has a better offer. Tell her to “sit” and she thinks about it. So obedience is a work in progress.
Once in obedience class l asked the instructor, Letty Towles, if she thought Suzi could pass the Canine Good Citizen test and get certified. Letty laughed. It is not a good sign if the dog trainer laughs at your dog’s chances to pass a test.
Suzi thinks everyone she meets is her newest best friend. One part of the test has a stranger coming up and asking to “pet your dog”. The dog has to SIT STILL the entire time including being touched by the stranger. Never going to happen with Suzi. She’s going to jump up, twist her butt towards her face and try to turn herself into a pretzel. That is Suzi’s way of saying she is glad to see YOU.
Her job inside the house is following me around from room to room. She reads the signs. If it looks like I ‘m going to plop down for a while, she curls up on the floor. If it looks like I’m just passing through, she waits to see where I’m going next and follows me there. It is her mission to keep and eye on me and an eye on the refrigerator door opening. Wouldn’t want to miss anything good.
Last fall I mentioned to the vet that I could feel two lumps in her neck. A biopsy showed lymphoma. Since then they’ve enlarged and lymph gland in one leg has gotten very large. She’ has lost 13 pounds in four months. I said “no” to chemo recommended by the vet. In time the vet found a holistic vet nearby.
Suzi went on a buffet of vitamins and it seemed to help her immune system fight the invader. The glands didn’t get bigger. But she is emaciated. Every bone in her body stands out. Put food in her all day long and nothing sticks.
She is still social, happy to see people, even if she walks slower, looks like a concentration camp survivor, is going blind and her hearing, always selective, is now definitely on the decline.
I wish I could say people are happy to see her but they are not. She doesn’t understand why some people don’t want to pet her. Heck, they don’t want her in the same room. She is not a pretty girl any more. I rarely bring her out any more to say “hello”.
In her youth, Suzi and I did 5 K races. She could have won if she ran with somebody worthwhile. But she had me and we were always in the back of the pack. Those days are gone, for her and me. We still get out. She, and my other dog Annie, five years younger, like their daily walk.
Today we went in the car over to the Greenway and walked a short distance on a trail shaded by trees. There were lots of good smells. At least the dogs thought so. I couldn’t smell anything much, just a whiff of pine fragrance from trees putting out new spring growth.
We didn’t walk far or fast. Back at the car I picked her up and put her in the back. Annie can get up by herself. Suzi has a way of dropping her jaw and smiling when she is happy. She was smiling. It is enough. We take it one day at a time.
Lucy Beebe Tobias is a freelance writer, author, artist and photographer living in Ocala, Florida with these four-legged family members – Suzi and Annie and three felines, Amy, Tito and Grace.