Last Day

[masked_owl]

It wasn't even a half-day, really. At just after 10:00 this morning, the vet gave him the injection that ended his life, while I sat next to him, stroking his head. I stayed with him for a couple of hours after, sometimes crying, sometimes on the phone with J! reminiscing about what a good dog he was.

Coming home today wasn't such the shock that I'd feared. It was a week ago today that I took Ding to the vet, and he hasn't been home since. I've already had a week to get used to him not coming to greet me when I come home. I've had a week with him not sleeping next to me, or needing to go out in the night, or doing any of the other things we used to do.

I know letting him go now, while he still had some strength left, was the right thing to do. But knowing that doesn't make me miss him any less. I can't help but be reminded of him so many times throughout the day.

- When I drop some food on the floor, my first reaction is still to tap my foot and call to Ding by saying, "What's this?", but there's no response. I'd forgotten how clumsy I can be with food.

- When I have food and am going to leave a room, I still look for a safe place to put it, out of Ding's reach before I realize I can leave it where it is, and it will be there when I get back.

- Ding enjoyed a good fire as much as I do, but notice the lack of his warmth as he snuggled up beside me in front of the fire.

- When I'm feeling down, I normally take a walk. Now, a walk just reminds me more of what I've lost.

I don't want to drown in thoughts of what I'm missing, so on Monday during my visit with Ding I started making a list of things I want to remember about him.

• J! and I took Ding to Arizona one Christmas & we stayed at his sister's apartment. Just off the main room, there was a small balcony with a metal rail. One time when we got back to the apartment, Ding ran out to the balcony and stood on his hind legs with his front legs outstretched against the metal rail. Standing there, he seemed to have the body position and air of someone surveying his kingdom.
• For Labor Day weekend in the year we had adopted Ding, we went up to J. & L.'s cabin up north. On the way back, we stopped at an A & W to get something to eat. I wanted Ding to have a bit of freedom, so I took his leash to wrap it around a handle inside the car, but I lost hold of Ding. Ding then ran across the highway (US23). I panicked and called to him, and he ran back. He was having a splendid time apparently, as 3 of us tried to grab him, with J. finally succeeding.
• After Ding was a few years old, he seemed to be ready for a bit more freedom when home alone, in the form of not being put in his crate. That came to an end one day when I went upstairs, flipped the light switch, and nothing happened. I assumed the light bulb was out, until I tried to turn on a lamp - also not working. I determined that there was no electricity upstairs. I headed downstairs to see if a circuit had been tripped, noticing that the attic access panel had been moved. It was only later that we thought to look in the attic, and discovered that Ding had let himself in while we were out, had crawled through the attic, and had chewed completely through the cable that provided power to the upstairs. Needless to say, Ding was crated thereafter.
• Ding certainly had hunting instincts, and I'll admit to being a bit proud about some of the animals he captured, most notably a possum.
• Ding did eat everything, and nothing seemed to make him ill. One year when we hosted Thanksgiving Dinner, J!'s sister J. brought some individually wrapped Belgian chocolates to share with us for dessert. I placed them on an upper shelf of the secretary, where I thought they'd be safe. Later on, we came upon a bunch of neatly unwrapped wrappers. After a brief group conversation, we determined Ding had taken the chocolates off the shelf, unwrapped them, and eaten them. (No, he did not get sick, though I worried.)
• Ding dearly loved to lay out in the backyard or on the deck when the sun was shining. When he'd get to warm, he'd move to the shade.
• Seasons are a bit wonky here. Winter lasts a long time, there's spring, then fall, without much of summer. Ding was my barometer of season change from winter to spring, which for me always started on the first day after winter when it got a bit sunnier and Ding insisted we go for a walk.
• Much as with the sun bathing, Ding loved to be in front of the fire. When he'd get too warm, he'd go to the other side of the room by the door and stay there until he'd cooled off.
• Ding liked to eat charcoal, so I had to put it into a plastic container he couldn't get into. He also liked to eat the coals that popped out of the fireplace from time to time.
• Ding was always up for a walk. We took one in the snow two weeks ago, though it was a short one. It was probably the only walk we took where he heeled for nearly the entire walk. Even today, just before I told them it was time, I asked him if he wanted a walk. He quickly got off the couch where he was resting, let me put the leash on him, and went outside one last time.
• When Ding was a fairly young puppy, J! & I had penned him into one corner of the family room while we were working on something (cleaning, perhaps?). One of the items we used as a barrier was a recliner couch, which in comparison to Ding at that point, was quite tall. Ding never liked being separated from people, even if they were just on the other side of whatever object physically separated him from them. In this case, he completed a standing jump over the couch, landing outside his "enclosure" without even touching the couch.
• At one time, we had a fairly tall entertainment center in the family room. I was tossing a ball around the room which Ding would chase and bring back. I was growing tired of playing, so I threw the ball on top of the entertainment center. Ding hadn't noticed it land up there, and couldn't see it because there was a lip around the top. He looked for the ball in front of the entertainment center, then came back to look at my hands to see if I'd not thrown it at all. Next, he checked behind the entertainment center, then came back to check my hands again. Last, he went through the kitchen, into the hallway, and into the room behind the entertainment center to look, just in case it had gone through the wall, I suppose. It was then that I got the ball down from on top to show him, just so that he wouldn't look anymore. I found his apparent reasoning quite interesting.
• During that period when we were letting Ding have access to parts of the house while we were at work, I needed a way to keep Ding off the couch, as I didn't want him going on the furniture. I obtained (through gift or purchase I can't recall) a sensor that would make a very loud, startling noise if disturbed in even the slightest way. I put that in the center of the couch before going to work. One day, I came home to find it had been pushed from the center of the couch to one end. The pillows had been removed from the other end of the couch, evidence that Ding had curled up at that end, safely not disturbing or being disturbed by the sensor.
• Early on, I couldn't trust Ding out of my sight. Therefore, I took to feeding him in the bathroom while I showered. Later on, when he could be trusted not to chew everything in sight, I felt I did not need to keep him with me at all times, and moved his food out of the bathroom. He continued to want company when eating for years after that. He'd paw at his bowls to get food and/or water, but if he was left alone, he wouldn't eat until someone came back.
• It seems like it would be very uncomfortable, but if Ding had a bed to himself, he liked to sleep with his head hanging off the side of the bed.
• "Chair", to Ding, meant any covering on the floor.
• Ding liked to play with bubbles. We'd blow them, and he'd run around trying to eat them. I wish that I'd remembered to blow some bubbles at him this week.
• Ding was not a water dog. He tolerated baths, at best. (His tail, which normally curled up over his back, would curl down the opposite direction when he was put in the tub.) Once when J! was power washing the deck & I was in the vegetable garden, Ding was trying to get into the garden with me because the fine mist that the power washing generated was being blown on him. There were other times when Ding would want to go out and would be jumping excitedly by the door. If it was raining, he'd sometimes run halfway across the deck and turn around to come back in rather than be out in the rain. Other times, he'd lose all of his excitement as soon as the door was opened and he saw it was raining. At the same time, he absolutely loved walking in the stream in Sand Run park.
• Ding did like to eat most everything. I had dreams of a vegetable garden. To make my dream a reality, I fenced off part of the backyard, and J! provided a lot of manpower to make the soil vegetable garden ready. I planted rows of vegetables, and looked forward to a good harvest. Oddly, even though I saw a number of vegetables start, they never seemed to ripen. One afternoon, Ding had been outside and came in. I noticed his breath smelled a bit odd, but familiar. Cucumbers! He had cucumber breath! I went outside, and sure enough, I found a half eaten cucumber beneath the tree. My little omnivore was going into the garden, eating vegetables, or taking them out of the garden and consuming them comfortably on the grass beneath the tree.
• Ding's first stuffed squeaky toy was a tiger, given to him by our friend Joe. Ding carried that toy with him most places, and never tried to tear the stuffing out. As with his other toys, he learned it's name, and if you asked him, "Where's the tiger?", he'd search the house for it and bring it to you. Sadly, we lost it somewhere during our trip to New England. I always looked for another tiger, but in all my years of searching, I never found one.
• We enrolled in a dog training course when Ding had been with us a few months. The class was held outside the vet's office in the parking lot. It was summer, so the asphalt must have been a bit warm. Ding was having none of that, though. I was trying to work with walking him on a leash, but rather than pay attention to me, he kept crawling out of cars to get to shade and/or cooler asphalt.
• Ding did love the snow. He would run around with his mouth open, scooping up snow. He'd jump like a bunny through the snow when it got deep in the backyard.
• Ding also got out of the backyard a few times. The first time, he had a leash on and climbed over a pile of rocks & concrete in the back corner of the yard. The leash got caught, so he didn't get very far. He let out his "I'm lost" cry, at which point we tracked him down and found him.