I am writing to tell you that we had to say goodbye to our beloved dog Luca yesterday.  It happened so suddenly that we are in shock.  He was his usual self in the morning, wearing his winter booties and bouncing along on our walk.  At lunch time he had trouble coming down the stairs and seemed uninterested in a walk, so we went slowly.  By our return he couldn’t get up the stairs and I had to lift him and from then on he couldn’t stand or use his paws.

We called an emergency Veterinarian Clinic and drove across the city with Luca cradled in the back seat and me making plans to sleep downstairs for a while so he could heal from whatever was happening.  But he wasn’t coming home.  The Vet asked about what had happened and then said he felt it was a stroke or some skeletal problem that only more testing or invasive surgery would detect and which would not necessarily help.  Luca was in pain he said.

At thirteen years we weren’t putting the little guy through surgery.  They took us to a private room and they brought him to us and laid him on a soft couch and we held him and cuddled and told him he was the best pal anybody could have.  We would have prolonged the inevitable forever but he was in pain. So we said we were ready, though we were not, and could never be. They gave him a sedative, then an injection, and he was gone.  

We could barely get home, both of us bawling our eyes out.  We sat for hours afterwards looking at pictures and laughing and crying. I don’t remember what we ate for supper, I think sandwiches and when we went to bed I thought I heard him coming up the stairs.  His blanket and dog bed are sitting with his bowl and a brand new bone.  I have ten days of homemade food in the freezer but no Luca to eat it.

I have been here before and I know it will take months if not longer, before my body and mind lose the routine of habits: the noises that marked his exit and entry, the specific times I needed to head home to see he was okay.  There are people who won’t see me on walks anymore and who I barely know but will wonder where we are.  There is the neighbor across the street who has treats for him and will be very sad and another down the block who lost her dog and was taking comfort in Luca’s visits.

Not everyone is meant to be a pet owner but I sure am.  I have cared for three dogs and three cats over the years and I remember each of them and their unique personalities as you would your best friend.  They are one of the best ways to learn love.  As my favourite theologian and philosopher, Richard Rohr wrote, and I paraphrase:

“There is no heaven if my dog isn’t there”.

I will have a great deal more time on my hands now but every time I leave the house I will pass by the quotation that I pasted to my front door that reads:

“Lord help me to be the person my dog thinks I am.”

In the years to come I hope it remains true.