Bye bye baby

I lost my sweet Dahlia pup on Sunday, March 28th in the afternoon. I was going to meet a friend for coffee and decided to take her to the field near my house where we play fetch so she'd get some exercise before I was gone. I'd thought about taking her running that morning but the last time I took on a six-mile run along the river, I kept her leashed because otherwise she eventually jumps on someone, and she pulled pulled pulled, constantly pulled, so that when we were done, my left arm (bad arm) ached for almost a week. She's not trained well. Probably because I'm not entirely clear how to do it and I didn't want to pay for a $100+ class.

We headed to the field about a block away and it's probably a bad idea but I let her run there off-leash because frankly it just gets so exhausting to keep her from pulling all the time, especially when she knows where we're going and it's just down "alleys" side-streets that are like driveways between plots where they haven't built houses yet so no one drives there. The field where we play is about a block size that's part of a neighbor that has shared grounds so they don't have any fences. This field hardly has anyone in it. It's surrounded on two sides by houses, and the other two sides by streets, one of which is fairly busy, the other spotty. I've tried to watch Dahlia and keep her from bounding across the street by herself but she's a pup and doesn't always let me grab her collar and walk her across. It's not like she has a sense of the street or really of vehicles.

As we got into the field, I chucked her ball and as she chased after it into the field, two neighbor dogs sprinted out to say hello, which isn't a big deal because Dahlia loves other dogs and saying hello. Our entire time at the dog park is just spent her checking in with me then saying hello to people and dogs and trying to get them to play. The dogs' owner was trying to get them to come back to the house and they weren't listening, all the dogs excited about this field meeting. Again, I didn't mind it, and I'm sure the owner just didn't want to interrupt my fetch game, but I thought well maybe he's trying to get somewhere or maybe one of his dogs is aggressive and he's trying to break this up now. So I yell to Dahlia but she won't come. I start walking over there but she's darting all around trying to play and won't let me catch her so that she stops interacting with the other dogs and let's them listen to their owner. And it was actually a nice day so part of me was just thinking ahh Dahlia is so cute and silly. I feel really lucky to have a dog and get to be out here throwing the ball around on a Sunday afternoon. Let's get to some playing.

So I scoop up the ball with my chucker, thought I'd just lightly throw the ball in the opposite direction of the dogs' house so that hopefully Dahlia would be suddenly more interested in the ball and leave them alone. I second thought this for a split second because I don't like throwing the ball in certain directions in the field in case it does occasional bounce toward the street. But thought, well I'll just chuck it lightly and it'll go maybe to the edge of the field and it'll be fine. But my chuck was too hard, and the ball bounced off the field, bounced off the bark/tree area, bounced into the street. And Dahlia actually saw it and went full sprint after it, around the tree, into the street, ignoring me calling her back and to stop. And as this is happening so fast, I see a pickup stop at the nearby stop sign and turn left to head past us on that street. And I just think oh my god, this is exactly the scenario I've feared. But she'll get the ball in time, and he'll see her and stop. Or he'll see her and stop. Or she'll see him and stop. And I'm both yelling still for her and just watching in horror and praying that it's not going to happen.

They didn't see each other. She ran toward the side of his truck then cut the same direction he was going and somehow was caught by his tire. And I see her go down and her head hit the street so hard. And this scream inside of me comes out that I've almost never heard before except that it's familiar because it's this primal sound. Like maybe some sound I made at my most painful moments in the ER when my arm was broken and part of me was thinking how am I making this sound? Why can't I control it?

And I ran to the street and she's lying there on her left side not moving but panting and there was so much blood I didn't know what to do except scream at the guy (who stopped) "what do I do? what do I do?" Then for a moment my first aid knowledge comes to me and I realize I need to stop her bleeding but I don't have anything except a jacket I'm wearing and I can't really tell what's injured except that her right leg is torn open at the shoulder and there's blood pouring from it. So I use my jacket to put compress and there's blood all over my hands but I'm able to pull out my cell and scream practically incoherently at my mom to come help. I don't remember ever crying so hard and out of control. I felt so bad for the guy who was also crying. A neighbor came out of her house and tried to help too by giving me some old towels to use and wet wipes for my hands and trash bag for my jacket, which was completely soaked.

I don't think I've ever felt so much guilt either. Here is this sweet little animal who has trusted herself to me, who I'm responsible for protecting and loving and keeping from harm, and it's my action throwing the ball that led her to danger. And her left eye was swollen and bloody and the most horrible, disturbing thing I've ever seen. I will make a terrible mom if my kid is injured because I lifted her head a little to see if it was bleeding underneath and saw it and just screamed and sobbed harder. She's like this delicate little thing that I just felt so helpless to help. I just prayed in my head please god just put her back together right now. Just put her back together and let her get up and we'll play and I'll never scold her again for tearing up a stuffed animal like I did last night because she was angry that I'd gotten out my running shoes and then ignored her when I got a phone call.

Finally mom and dad arrive with a pickup then I'm completely inept to help lift her into the truck. I just can't stop sobbing and I can't look at her without feeling sick and sorry and guilty and helpless. We get her to the emergency vet and they rush her right into surgery to clamp off the severed artery. Then I have this new wave of panic both for the cost of this and for the potential to loose her. Dad tries to comfort me and thinks that maybe it's just the artery and she'll just need some surgery and for the swelling on her head to go down. But I keep thinking but you didn't see her eye. And I'm worried that they'll save her but she'll be a grotesque one-eyed, three-legged dog that everyone will feel sorry for and she won't be able to run. And if she can't run, will she even be happy again? Will that even be a quality life for her?

But it wasn't just the artery. She had air in her cavity which caused her lung to collapse and at one point she stopped breathing and they ran in to ask if they should revive her. And I couldn't answer. I couldn't decide if it wasn't just best to let her go if she was going, if it was what nature intended and what she intended. But she regained breathing and we could hear her whimpering (although I guess with all the drugs they said it was automatic and she wasn't aware she was doing it and wasn't in any pain) but it broke my heart. Then the vet gave me the option of continuing surgery to remove the air in her cavity but there could be internal damage as well as brain damage and the surgeries could get very expensive. She said she's known people to spend $10,000 on such operations. But also that there was no guarantee that Dahlia could be saved even with the operations and that if Dahlia was her dog, the vet would put her down.

So mom and I went into the operating room she was all bloody and bandaged and crying, though when we stepped close to her, she stopped crying for a moment and quieted down a bit. I put my hand under her nose, which was dripping, and rubbed her ear and thanked her for being my dog and then she was quiet as the drug took over. Then her body started convulsing which is normal and completely freaky and disturbing and upset me even more than knowing she was gone.

I was going to throw her and Jack a birthday party this week. The vet had guessed that when I adopted her in July, she was probably 3-4 months old. I figured that made her birthday around March or April. I've figured Jack's birthday is in April as well. I've heard of people having birthday parties for their pets and had thought it was rather silly. But there's something about having a silly, 70-lb puppy that made me want to dress her up for halloween and christmas and throw a little doggy/kitty birthday party, even if it only entailed that they got a special treat.

I had and hadn't realized how much I'd reorganized my time and day and space to accommodate Dahlia. Unlike Jack, she had great needs for exercise and stimulation and attention that took me really thinking about her during the day and when I was going to play fetch with her, or use the laser light, or take her to the dog park, or take her on a walk. And what would she enjoy? Maybe she'd enjoy riding in the car with me to the store, just for something different. Maybe she'd enjoy her head out the window. And then did I bring the water bowl and water for her? And the treats? And make sure I don't have anything edible in the car that she'll get into? And is the garage warm enough for her tonight? Is she out in the yard digging holes right now or eating kitty roca under the deck? If I'm going out, is she exercised and is this too early to give her dinner so that she'll be anxious later and into trouble? ...now that's all gone. Now it's back to me and Jack except that I have a doggy run on the side of my house, and an awesome doggy condo in the garage, and a ton of doggy toys. And a doggy pack Joe bought her for christmas that we only got to use once. And a ton of water bowls. And a broken heart.

I don't know how anyone survives losing a child. Or a parent or spouse. Losing my dog is hard enough but I feel like it'd have been easier if she's just gotten old and sick, instead in such a graphic, violent, sudden way right in front of me.

The guy who hit her, Tygh, posted a note on Craigslist for me that a friend directed me to, wanting to know how she was and how I was. I talked to him last night and had felt so bad because he was crying too as he sat there in the street with me. Apparently he just had to put his pug down a few months ago. His dog was going to need dialysis and it was probably going to cost thousands so they decided it was better to just put her down. He said Sunday just brought back so many of those emotions. He wants to make a donation to the humane society in Dahlia's name, which I thought was sweet. And eventually I'll get another dog I'm sure. And that one will be on a very short leash. For her own protection.

this little plastic bone was probably her favorite toy

yummy grass

I kept trying to make a snowman but Dahlia was eating the snow and digging holes in it.

the rare moment when they were both still
Joe bought us an awesome doggy pack for christmas

Mom just helped me complete the doggy run on the side yard, so Dahlia could use her doggy door from the garage and her doggy condo in there to the side yard and still have some yard to lay in the sun but without access to digging holes in the yard or chewing on the trees.

My friend and Girls On The Run director sent me the following story yesterday that she read to her boys when their dogs passed last year. Initially I thought it wouldn't affect me. It's just a lil story for kids about dog heaven, and I'm not even positive what I think of the afterlife. But reading it just made me sob again. It makes me hope there is a heaven for Dahlia's sake.

DOG HEAVEN By Cynthia Rylant
When dogs go to Heaven, they don't need wings because God knows that dogs love running best. He gives them fields. Fields & fields & fields. When a dog first arrives in Heaven, she just runs.
Dog Heaven has clear, wide lakes filled with geese who honk & flap & tease. The dogs love this. They run beside the water & bark & bark God watches them from behind a tree & smiles.
There are children, of course. Angel children. God knows that dogs love children more than anything else in the word, so He fills Dog Heaven with plenty of them. There are children on bikes & children on sleds. There are children throwing red rubber balls & children pulling kites through the clouds. The dogs are there, & the children love them dearly.
And, oh, the dog biscuits. Biscuits & biscuits as far as the eye can see. God has a sense of humor, so He makes His biscuits in funny shapes for His dogs. There are kitty-cat biscuits & squirrel biscuits. Ice-cream biscuits & ham-sandwich biscuits. Every angel who passes by has a biscuit for a dog. And, of Course, all God's dogs sit when the angels say "sit." Every dog becomes a good dog in Dog Heaven.
God turns clouds inside out to make fluffy beds for the dogs in Dog Heaven, & when they are tired from running & barking & eating ham-sandwich biscuits, the dogs each find a cloud bed for sleeping. They turn around & around in the cloud...until it feels just right, & then they curl up & they sleep. God watches over each one of them & there are no bad dreams.
Dogs in Dog Heaven have almost always belonged to somebody on Earth &, of course, the dogs remember this. Heaven is full of memories. So sometimes an angel will walk a dog back to Earth for a little visit & quietly, invisibly, the dog will sniff about her old backyard, will investigate the cat next door, will follow the child to school, will sit on the front porch & wait for the mail. When she is satisfied that all is well, the dog will return to Heaven with the angel. It is where dogs belong, near God who made them.
The dogs in Dog Heaven who had no real homes on Earth are given one in Heaven. The homes have yards & porches & there are couches to lie on & tables to sit under while angels eat their dinners. There are special bowls with the dogs' names on them & each dog is petted & reminded how good he is, all day long. Dogs in Dog Heaven may stay as longs as they like & this can mean forever. They will be there when old friends show up. They will be there at the door. Angel dogs.

Thank you, Dahlia, for being my dog. Even though our time together was short. I hope I loved you and served you well.