I hope you don't mind my sharing here since she's not a cat. My sweet Tashie left us this Tuesday somewhat unexpectedly. Tasha was my lab/Shepard mix who still lived with my parents. We adopted her Valentines Day 1996 while I was still in Junior High. Tasha hadn't been in great shape for a few years now; but she did not appear to be ready to leave us any time soon. In fact she'd looked worse in the past than the last time I saw her.
Tuesday afternoon my step-father was home and noticed Tasha was about to mess on the rug (she started having bowel troubles about a week ago) so he got her outside. He said she had a hard time getting up, but to an extent that wasn't very new because her hips had been giving her trouble. After she came back in she went to lay on her bed; which was typical. Pumpkin, one of the cats, was laying with her. They'd taken to sharing the bed pretty regularly. I guess a short time later my step-father noticed Tasha was struggling to breath. She picked her head up and looked at him, put it down, and that was it.
My mother called me with the news shortly after she got home and I went up to say my goodbyes. When I got there Abby, the other dog, and all three of the cats were sitting nearby. I sat on the floor for a while just petting her between the ears like she loved, looking in her warm brown eyes. I still can't believe it.
When my parents began to wrap her for burial Abby put her head in my lap. My parents and I each wrote a message to go with her. Tasha is buried on some friend's land not too far from my parent's house. Abby went with them for the burial. Tasha and Abby were there for the burial of my girls who crossed the RB in 2002 and 2003 and it seemed to help them. I stayed behind at the house to collect myself and Pumpkin just stuck himself to me like glue. He followed me everywhere and when I was sitting, he was in my lap licking my fingers. I really think he had a sense for Tasha's condition that we apparently did not.
Tasha was a wonderful dog. She adored my mother. She followed her everywhere, especially if Mom was trying to cook....so usually getting herself banned to the living room with her head down.
Tasha was known for stealing food. From a whole plate of donuts at my grandparent's house, to half the cookies it took my mother and I 2 days to make one Christmas. In fact Tuesday I was making a beef stew in the crock pot at home; something I got the idea to do after the memory came to me of the time Tasha stole my Sunday dinner once when I'd carelessly left it in her reach for more than 20 seconds. She'd eaten more chocolate than any dog should have without ever getting sick. She's never been bothered by the cats and was always gentle with my nephew. She loved to play and run, especially in the snow! Which we don't get too much of here; so it was always a big treat for her. When she was a puppy she slept in a laundry basket next to my parent's bed. She especially loved it if my step-dad would hang his arm over the bed at night so she could snuggle next to his hand. When Abby came home she took right to her, playing tug of war was their favorite game. Tasha had great patience with Bunny, the cat who frequently takes her attitude out on the dogs by smacking them when she walks by. She didn't care for it so much when Pumpkin would attack her tail as a kitten, but she'd just get up instead of showing him who was boss!
Tasha was the first dog I've ever had and I still just can't believe she's gone. I always wanted to pretend that day would never come, and here it is come and gone. I just couldn't imagine it would come so swiftly. I wish for just one more hug, one more greeting at the door. One more of those looks she'd give when you said "cookie!" I thought I'd have a chance to say goodbye while she was still alive; but I don't know if it's worse than having to go through with putting her to sleep. It's not been a good week for the dogs in my family. My Dad put his dog to sleep on Monday, and then loosing Tasha on Tuesday. I'm ready for this week to end. I know in time this pain will be less, but I'll never stop missing my Tashie.
Tuesday afternoon my step-father was home and noticed Tasha was about to mess on the rug (she started having bowel troubles about a week ago) so he got her outside. He said she had a hard time getting up, but to an extent that wasn't very new because her hips had been giving her trouble. After she came back in she went to lay on her bed; which was typical. Pumpkin, one of the cats, was laying with her. They'd taken to sharing the bed pretty regularly. I guess a short time later my step-father noticed Tasha was struggling to breath. She picked her head up and looked at him, put it down, and that was it.
My mother called me with the news shortly after she got home and I went up to say my goodbyes. When I got there Abby, the other dog, and all three of the cats were sitting nearby. I sat on the floor for a while just petting her between the ears like she loved, looking in her warm brown eyes. I still can't believe it.
When my parents began to wrap her for burial Abby put her head in my lap. My parents and I each wrote a message to go with her. Tasha is buried on some friend's land not too far from my parent's house. Abby went with them for the burial. Tasha and Abby were there for the burial of my girls who crossed the RB in 2002 and 2003 and it seemed to help them. I stayed behind at the house to collect myself and Pumpkin just stuck himself to me like glue. He followed me everywhere and when I was sitting, he was in my lap licking my fingers. I really think he had a sense for Tasha's condition that we apparently did not.
Tasha was a wonderful dog. She adored my mother. She followed her everywhere, especially if Mom was trying to cook....so usually getting herself banned to the living room with her head down.
Tasha was the first dog I've ever had and I still just can't believe she's gone. I always wanted to pretend that day would never come, and here it is come and gone. I just couldn't imagine it would come so swiftly. I wish for just one more hug, one more greeting at the door. One more of those looks she'd give when you said "cookie!" I thought I'd have a chance to say goodbye while she was still alive; but I don't know if it's worse than having to go through with putting her to sleep. It's not been a good week for the dogs in my family. My Dad put his dog to sleep on Monday, and then loosing Tasha on Tuesday. I'm ready for this week to end. I know in time this pain will be less, but I'll never stop missing my Tashie.
