- Mood:
Pain - Listening to: Don't go away - Oasis
Of the million things I would wish for... today there is one that erased all the others from that list. I wish I could turn time's hands backwards and freeze them. I wish there were cures for one of the most painful tumors a dog can have. I wish my little angel were here, lighting up my room again... brightening up my life one more time.
He came to me when I least expected it. I had to sneak him into my room while my parents were out cuz they didn't like me having pets in my room. Still, I always managed to sneak him into my room to hug him and watch him sleep on my bed. He was just 3 months old. He was healthy. He was happy but scared to be in a strange place with strange people calling him cute names and petting him as if he were a stuffed animal.
He became very close to me... more than to anyone else in the house. I had adopted him without knowing it. He needed help from the start. He needed vitamins, vaccines and medicine to stabilize his weight. Apparently the place where they had him, he wasn't being fed properly. I kept a journal where I'd write all the things I had to do for him during the day. I have a lousy memory so I needed to write everything down: 9 am: Tol 12... Midday: lunch, not too much yet.
He recovered fast and grew huge. He never behaved like a regular dog. He never barked at dogs, cats, people, or any other animal for that matter. Never bit anyone during his whole life.. NEVER! His vet always told me he was especial and quite different... as if he had a human-like soul inside. Coming from a person of science, this one was a shocker.
We hung out a lot together. We had a special routine. I'd put on jeans, a t-shirt, my hat, glasses and pack up all the stuff I thought he might need: water, a towel, crackers, a toy, etc. I always overpacked for what was supposed to be a casual visit to the park. We spent 2 or 3 hours, pretty much everyday for like 4 years or so. He never let me sit for over a few minutes. He'd start barking at me going 'get the hell up!! you said we'd run on the beach!'
He loved the sea. He'd go in and wait for a wave to chase him out. We had a lot of fun at the beach together.
After his first year, health issues became our daily burden. Something I promised myself I'd always rush to help him. If there is something that immediately breaks my soul is watching an animal in pain. People have mouths and ambulances.. they can scream for help all they want, someone will always come.
He had his first tumor taken out. Then came another one. Then another one. Luckily, all of them were small and taken out on time. By his third year he couldn't go to the vet without looking super scared and stressed.
When he arrived I was still studying so I didn't have any money to get all the things I thought he should have. So I managed to use stuff I found around the house. I'd say he needs a huge comforter cuz he just had surgery and he needs something soft and warm to sleep on. I eventually managed to move him from the crappy house on the backyard to the warmth and comfort of my room: the place I used to sneak him into every night.
He never did any tricks or hunted anything. He was always quiet, humble and willing to sit by me whenever I needed him. I can still hear his paws on the wooden floor... I could recognize his pace apart from everyone else.
He became a huge part of my family and brought us together. After me and my brother got to highschool, we never volunteered to join our parents for anything. It was my bro in his room all day, my parents on the living room arguing and me locked in mine. After Bonzo, our family trips to the beach with Bonzo were sacred.
After a couple of years we decided to get him a girlfriend. He became the proud dad of 8. We kept one of them: Ringo. Ringo thought he was his mommy and bit his nipples, scratched his cheeks and became his backpack. Wherever Bonzo went, Ringo HAD to be there with him or he'd cry as if he was dying.
Ringo became a huge fan of attention and that made Bonzo a little sad. Even though I took care of both of them. Ringo was more fond of the whole family so everyone paid attention and played with him, which gave me the space I needed to stay focused on my baby.
Bonzo had a smell... a smell nobody liked. We washed everything he stepped on or laid on. My parents would often complain about his smell on the furniture so I had to wash the sofa and cushions pretty much every weekend. I did that gladly, hardly complained about the task. Life goes round and round... and now one of the things I miss the most is his smell. He didn't smell like a regular dog... after he left, I took his cape and the first thing I did was smell it. I needed something still alive from him, something that wasn't painted on a photograph, something my other senses would feel. I put his leach and his cape on a bag and hid them in my closet.
Whenever he had surgery, it was hell for me. We became so attached that everything bad that happened to him became torture for me. I'd sit by the phone waiting for the call that would go ' Patty, he's fine and recovering as expected, you can come pick him up if you want.' Those words, that call, was the only thing I wanted to hear. And I cried, each and every time I heard that. I thanked God he was coming back to me, safe and sound.
Being a different dog, he always got attacked by other dogs and was what led me to keep him in the house and run with him on the backyard. I stopped our trips to the park. I only took him to the beach a few times after that but only if someone else went with me to protect him.
We got rid of all of his tumors but one: One that stuck to his brain and gave him great pain. He started having seizures and began treatment for that. By then, the vet told us to be ready for the worst. He was my life, and I was just told I was going to lose him soon. That is by far the worst news I have ever received.
After a few months the seizures stopped. I thought things were looking better. But he seemed to be losing his energy and he was only 9. Soon he started demanding my attention all day. I tried to spend as much time as I could with him. I had many fights with my boyfriend over this. It was terribly painful for me to be put in that place where you are asked to chose and unable to answer... cuz a son is not a boyfriend... and a boyfriend is not a son... different love, just as strong.
A few months ago, he started walkin in circles without chasing his tail. He had to take more pills for that. It worked but not for long. A couple of weeks ago it was hard for him to walk around. He'd fall a lot. A week ago he started shaking as if he was freezing. I sang him to sleep and gave him my blankets. He was unable to get on my bed so I made sure I had many comforters together to make a nice bed for him. I'd sit next to him, sing to him and hug him to sleep. Sometimes he'd wake up at 3 am shaking and somehow I always woke up to notice and do something about it.
On Wednesday, he couldn't stop shaking and now he'd cry out loud and there was nothing I did that helped his pain. Later that day we called a vet to check on him and help him rest. He gave us the worst news we could ever hear... news we already knew but didn't want to hear. He was in great pain, the tumor was killing him and keeping him alive was a torture for him. He was almost blind and now he couldn't get up. He drugged him to let him rest and give us time to say goodbye. By morning, the vet returned and put him to sleep.
Watching him slip through my hands, feeling his breath diminish, watching his chest stop moving, watching the needle on his leg killed me. I have never ever in my life been through such a painful moment. The air became incredibly heavy. I didn't want to let him go. I became selfish but never said how much I regreted our decision to put him to sleep.
My little angel marked our lives. But I honestly believe the one he marked the most is mine. My room is huge now, so empty, so cold, so quiet. There is not a single place in the house that doesn't remind me of him. He was mine, he always waited for me to come home from work. I'd open the door and he'd be there... sitting for I don't know how long... just waiting to see me and kiss me.
Travelling was so hard during these 10 years. It hurt so much to feel he might feel alone or forgotten. I still keep a can of dog food on my desk. Foolishly hoping he'll come back to me and wake me up lickin my face... with those big happy eyes that always melted my heart.
My chest hurts. I can hardly pick myself up. I have mixed feeling about what we did. I think it wasn't our right to choose to end his life. Then I think about how long he'd have suffered shaking and crying if we chose not to do that. Then I wonder why didn't God take him if he was in so much pain. I wonder why such a humble and pure soul had to suffer so much. Clearly he never deserved all those tumors.
Can't help to wonder: Did I really do everything I could? Did I really make him happy? Did I make him as happy as he made me? Can I move on from this?
While everyone was diggin a hole for him on our backyard (I had to fight to keep him close to me cuz they wanted to bury him elsewhere) I was in my room, sittin on my bed, staring at his body covered with his comforter. I just wished miracles happened. I waited for him to move. I waited for his paws to get him up and back to me. I didn't have the strength to watch them bury him. My head was pressing my brains, my screams were muted by the heavy air.
If there is someone I talked to EVERYONE about, it was him. It's been the 3 most painful days of my life and I feel like I will never get over this.
I know I am being selfish because there is someone that needs help more than me: Ringo. I am trying to connect with him, to bond with him more and keep him from missing Bonzo so much. He cried the first day and sometimes stands by the hallway to look at the door and cry. Fortunately, we chose to lock him away while Bonzo was leaving us, so he didn't get to watch that. Today I went out to the supermarket to get some stuff for him. I just couldn't stop bursting into tears as I walked into the pets aisle.
Life without him... is terribly depressing.
In your memory
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