Life is Always Turning into Something Else...

Grady taught me a lot. She taught me how to stay on the porch while Kate was out working in the yard. She tried to model for me how to walk on the leash. I used to watch her with admiration, but when the leash was actually attached to my neck, it was very uncomfortable. I thought I would choke! Like a bucking bronco at the end of a rope, I just wanted to be free of it! Eventually, I made peace with the leash. I learned that things just get worse when you struggle with something you cannot change. The day came when I would find myself getting excited when Kate would get the leash out because I knew it meant we were going for a walk; another adventure through the world.

I used to have a blast playing with Grady. She was a really good sport. Every so often, I would knock her over after running across the yard towards her at full speed. I was like a bull going after a matador in the ring. I was too young to understand that she was getting frail. Sometimes in my blind eagerness to see Kate, I would brush past Grady who would inevitably end up falling into the rose bushes or back down the stairs or some such thing. Nonetheless, Grady always forgave me.

Grady was very much a homebody. Girls seem to stay closer to home than boys. She was always waiting on the porch for me whenever I came back to the house. Even when she was weak with arthritis, she would hoist herself up as soon as I approached. She would stand at the top of the stairs barking her head off with her tail wagging to and fro, as if she were the one in charge.

I was younger and stronger than she, it was clear. I liked to think I was smarter too. Once in awhile Kate would give us little bacon-wrapped rawhide bones. Grady would get totally absorbed in hers. While she was gnawing and chomping, I would take mine and hide it. As soon as she was done with hers, I’d go get mine. I loved to drive her crazy. I would stand right in her face and chew it dramatically, making lots of noise with it as it tastily rattled around in my teeth. I knew she would smell it and hear it and see it, and then she would want it too! It was a good activity to liven up our day.

I would then drop the bone, as if by accident, right beside her. Uh oh! Her lips would immediately curl back into a threatening growl, and I would start whining. Oh no! It was just a game we played. It would go on for quite some time, mostly because I never knew when to quit. I would try to retrieve my rawhide bone, and she would just growl and show her teeth to intimidate me. She would always win and I would find out that I was not so smart after all. The rawhide game was the only game Grady could win, but actually I won too because I knew she needed to win at something, and it was always a really fun game to play.

Kate was spending more and more time with Grady. She often said the same things to Grady that she had said to me when I was a puppy. Grady would pee on the rug and as she did, Kate would drop whatever she was doing and run over to her, “No Grady, No! Not on the rug!” but Grady couldn’t help it.

A dog relies on its senses to understand things. Once in awhile I would try to imagine what life was like for Grady when she could no longer see and no longer hear. I didn’t think about it for too long. I hoped that I would never get that old. Grady eventually became blind, deaf, and she couldn’t hold her bladder …but she still had a sense of humor and her tail still wagged. Kate would say, “As long as her tail is wagging, we’ll keep her going.”

A dog can wag its tail, but a dog needs more than that. Just like a person needs a purpose, a dog needs a purpose too. We don’t feel good when we are just taking up space. Grady had been a successful therapy dog many years before. We all need to be successful at something for as long as we live.

One of our friends was a veteran rescue dog from the World Trade Center. He had many stories about rescuing people from the wreckage. We learned a lot from him. He told us that when the buildings went down, many rescue workers arrived on site, including specially trained dogs from all over the country. He was one of them. The mission of the dogs was to find survivors and victims. All too soon the unfortunate time came when no more could be found. At this point many of the dogs became listless and depressed. They refused to eat or drink. They failed to thrive. They did not feel the desire to live because they were simply not able to fulfill their purpose.

Being able to do something we’re good at prolongs our lives and promotes our sense of well-being. If we don’t have a job to do, a task to accomplish, or someone to serve on a regular basis we will create our own opportunities. We will chase lizards and rabbits, obsess about squirrels and other mammals, bark at everyone who passes by, or rearrange the rugs in the house. We can always find something to do if our humans don’t need us or provide us with work to do.

Time never existed for me, but I could always feel its passage. I was sensitive to the comings and goings of life. The clock would tick on the kitchen wall. She would turn the calendar pages. Everything has a season, it is true.

I could sense “time” only by how my world felt to me. Days and nights were easy to define. It was light; it was dark. The days would shorten, lengthen and shorten again. It was hot, it was cold; leaves would fall; seasons would change. Things would die and be reborn. Perennials would thrive, decline and then, once again burst forth with life when the warmth of the sun returned. It was one thing we knew we could depend on: the cycle of change and renewal.

Every year I was quite jealous of a certain little bird that visited in early spring until summer. Kate was always happy when it returned because it meant that the warmer weather was coming. It had a breathy, high-pitched whistle. “Sssss-sesesesese!” She would imitate it and they would talk back and forth to each other. I’d come running from wherever I was and demand of her: Where is he? What are you doing talking to him again? I would yap and whine and jump around. She would just laugh and tell me I was silly to worry; that she loved me best.

“You’re the best boy in the world,” she would say.

The only thing we could count on was that everything would change. Something is always turning into something else. There was only one constant as the days passed. All of the time and all year round, I could feel her love for us in the air, wafting like incense over the uneven terrain of our life.

Every year, the weed season kept us very busy. My long hair seemed to grab every seed that needed a ride. Kate would spend many hours brushing and combing and picking every clinging thorn out of my hair. Some of them would be embedded in my skin and they hurt a lot, but I never uttered a sound. I knew it would pass. I knew she would take care of me. She always did.

One evening, at the end of the summer, we walked to the National Forest. Grady didn’t want to go with us; she just wanted to sleep, so the two of us set out on a soft path through a beautiful part of the forest trail. At one point on our hike we got very playful. It was the energy of the place. It just felt really good to be there together.

At the curve in the trail we were both running as fast as we could go! We were having so much fun! Suddenly, we screeched to a halt for we found ourselves in the middle of a field of goat heads, burdocks, and other spiny thorns. We had been having so much fun that we didn’t even feel ourselves getting covered with them! We were trapped! The only way out was to go back through them, but I refused to move. Meanwhile, it was getting dark, and the coyotes were beginning to howl. I didn’t care. I wasn’t moving.

She had stickers all over her sneakers and the bottoms of her pants and I had them all over me! They were embedded in the pads of my paws and my tail and in my long hair too. My paws were like pincushions! It was too painful to take a single step for I knew each one would only lead me further, deeper and deeper, into the weeds.

She was getting nervous because night was falling. I was nervous only because she was nervous. I just stood there. I trusted her to figure it out.

She picked each and every goat head off of the pads of my feet. Still, I wouldn’t budge. Then she had an idea. Moving backwards, she, with me in front of her, cleared a trail and guided me all the way back the way we had come. I was hesitant at first, but eventually, one step at a time I found that each footfall was clear. Like a good guide dog, she cleared a safe and open path for me.

Finally we were out! We walked home, where we spent several hours pulling the remaining stickers off of her and off of me. It was a difficult experience and yet when you can put your trust in the one you’re with, you come out of it all right. It is times like these that permanently weave the one you love into the fabric of your being.

Leaves started to fall, composting into the moist autumn earth. There was a chill in the air. I no longer could detect the smells of the forest trail on the southern breeze. I sensed changes coming and it made me uneasy.

After many seasons of carrying Grady around and cleaning up after her, the day came when Kate sat down to talk with her. She put her hands on Grady’s chest like she had done with me when I was little. With her hands cupped over Grady’s heart, she told her how much she appreciated the years they had shared. She told her how much she loved her. While she talked with her, she gently combed her sheltie fur and cleaned her eyes. She had to clean her eyes all the time because they would get gunk in them. Grady hadn’t been able to tolerate going to the grooming salon for a very long time. Even at her best, she never cared to be fussed over or petted too much for too long… although now she seemed more relaxed and less resistant. Sometimes it feels really good to finally surrender to someone you love and trust. It takes some of us all of our lives to arrive at this point.

I was a little jealous that Grady was getting so much attention, but I knew that something important was taking place; I didn’t quite know what. I was still a puppy and too young to understand.

Kate was a good master. She carried Grady when she couldn’t walk and she protected her from things that would upset and exhaust her. She made sure Grady knew that she was not alone.

Grady wasn’t going upstairs anymore. She had a bed on the floor near the fireplace downstairs. Kate and I had been sleeping on the couch down there for quite some time just so she didn’t feel alone. This particular night, Kate slept right on the floor beside her until morning.

In the morning Grady and I went outside. It was exceptionally warm and sunny and it was the first good day Grady had had in a long time! We came in, ate our breakfast and shared some together time. Then Kate carried Grady to the car and I followed. I was surprised to see that Kate had set up our car like a cozy little den. Grady’s favorite quilt covered the backseat. There were pillows all around. Grady’s favorite toys were in there too. It was kind of fun to have it that way.

But it wasn’t much fun this particular day. Grady would typically sit in the back where she could see Kate and where Kate could see her, but this time Grady positioned herself right behind the driver’s seat where they couldn’t see each other at all. I knew Grady didn’t want Kate to see her, but I didn’t know why. I sat on the other side where I could see Kate, who was crying silently. For some reason she didn’t want Grady to know that she was crying. She didn’t want Grady to see her either. I felt an overwhelming sadness in our car.

A little while later we pulled into the parking lot at the veterinary clinic. Grady always hated the vet. Me, I loved going because of all the pretty girls in there who loved me and who always made a big fuss over me.

“Hi Handsome!”

They would always greet me smiling and laughing. It was like a big fun reunion party every time we went! When she took me in to meet them for the very first time, they asked her, “Why? Why did you get another dog?”

“I just felt like I needed a backup plan,” was her reply.

A backup plan? I’m a backup plan?

She told them she got me in case she lost Grady. She apparently didn’t think she could live alone without Grady by her side. She had learned to love her very much and was very attached to her. Sometimes when you love like that, you forget that you are strong enough to make it on your own.

I never knew this. Wow, I am just a backup plan…?

Then she looked over at me proudly and said, “Can you blame me? Who could resist him if they saw him? Why, anyone would want to take him home! I’m so lucky it was me!”

Cool. And I was lucky too.

This time at the clinic was not like the other times. This time we never got out of the car. Kate joined us in the back seat, resting one hand on Grady and the other on me.

“Everything’s okay,” she reassured us.

The vet came out to the car with her assistant. They put a couple of needles into Grady’s leg. It got strangely quiet. In just a few moments the vet said softly, “She’s gone”.

Kate said “Thank you,” smiling weakly as they were leaving. I watched her. I watched Grady. I didn’t fully understand, but I knew that something amazing, maybe even miraculous, had just happened. Grady was so quiet and still. It was as if a great weight had lifted; in its place was absolute peace.

Grady just lay there with her eyes closed. She had not been groomed in many months, and yet she looked like a beauty queen! Her shining hair glistened in the morning sun as the breeze drifted in, tossing it gently about. Her eyes were surprisingly clean and clear.

Kate had always worried that if she made the decision to put Grady to sleep that she would be “playing God.” She had been waiting for God to call for Grady who suffered year after year, but God just didn’t call for Grady. After awhile she got to thinking that maybe this was just a test of her love. Maybe it was a test to see if she loved Grady enough to let her go. I hope she never has to make that kind of decision for me.

We drove the car to the back of the clinic where there was a big heavy door. A nice girl named Joy came to the car and lifted Grady out. Grady looked so beautiful, draped in the arms of Joy. Joy carried her through the big door, and I never saw Grady again. I finally understood. I knew that she was in a good place. I knew that she had gone Home. I don’t know how I knew this, but I did.

After the big door closed, Kate looked at me, smiling with tears in her eyes.

“Well, Jackie, let’s go home. I’ve got a little boy to take care of…”

She was trying to smile, but I knew she was sad. I was glad I was her little boy and that she wanted to take care of me. Even if it meant being a backup plan, I’m in! I knew we were going back home, and this made me happy. I had the sense that Grady was happy because she was going Home too.

That was the day Kate vowed to help people come to terms with putting their pets to sleep. After all, she had agonized for many years over it. She dwelled on it long before Grady was frail. She had been afraid of it for a very long time and she learned that ultimately there was nothing at all to be afraid of. She found that it was much easier to actually carry it out than to anticipate and fear it.

“Grady was so beautiful and at peace,” she would tell them. “I should have done it a long time ago.” “I know she’s in a better place.” She would share the story, but most people have to decide for themselves in their own way and in their own time.