sherlock
New Member
NOTE: This is going to be insanely long.
I got a call from my dad last night. One that I knew was probably coming soon, but I was dreading it.
He asked what I was doing today (my answer: "uh...laundry.") He told me to come to their house. When I asked why, he said "Josie. She's really sick, honey."
My heart immediately broke, there in the card aisle at Walmart while I was trying to figure out which thank you cards to get. Not an ideal place to get that call.
I haven't talked about Josie too much on here. She's a beagle. We adopted her when I was 13 (I'm 23 now.) On my birthday, when I blew out my candles, my mom asked me what I wished for. I told her, "The same thing I've wished for since I was 4. A dog" (I don't remember this at all, but that's what my mom has told me. Apparently she then looked at my dad and said "Just get the kid a dog.") About a month or so later, my dad and I began going around to different shelters, looking at dogs. We must have checked 5 or 6 different shelters, looking for a dog that was just right.
Finally we found her. I loved beagles, ever since I read the "Shiloh" series as a kid, She was perfect.
Well...we thought so at first. See, this dog had been feral out on some farms in a small town, until she started chasing the farmers' chickens and they called animal control. She had no "pet" in her...just dog. Within 30 minutes of bringing her home, she found a hole under our fence and escaped into the field/wooded area behind my parents house. (We finally caught her.)
It took us a few days to name her. Her name in the shelter was BARBIE of all things, but I know it was probably just the next female name in the book. It got to the point that my mom was just rattling off name after name. Finally she said Josie, and we all looked at each other (me, mom, dad, and my sister) and we just knew it was right. (My sister and I were big fans of the movie Josie and the Pussycats.)
But this dog was nothing but trouble, which soon became her middle name. She would constantly dig out of the yard, has been sprayed by skunks about 6 times, and bitten by copperheads 4 or 5 times. But nothing would ever stop her. She also learned not to go up to the neighbors after escaping from the yard. They would grab her collar and bring her right home. She would go up to each neighbor once, and then never again because she knew they would bring her back. There were times she'd be gone for 10, 12 hours. We learned not to look for her because it didn't matter. We'd just open the back gate, because she would come home when she was done.
She was my best friend for years. When I went away to college, she would freak when I came home on weekends. It was like those videos of dogs seeing their soldier-owner come home after deployment. It was the best thing ever, because no matter what my week had been like, I always knew she would be so happy to see me. It was even better once I got my own apartment with DH and didn't come home as often.
Josie has been sick for a while now. It started with a small hole/pocket in her gum. Hair and stuff would get impacted in it from chewing on herself. The vet showed my mom and dad how to go in with tweezers and pull it out, but it started getting worse, and she stopped letting them do it. The vet said that she could pull the tooth, but at her age (13) it was risky to put her under. But now it's infected something awful.
Recently she stopped eating much, so my dad switched her to wet food. And then even that was too much. I was home last weekend and watched my dad feed her for 15 minutes. She was eating some Moist 'n Meaty, so he'd put down a small handful, wait for her to eat it, and then give her a bit more. Her would even give her small handfuls of cat food because it was small enough she didn't have to chew it.
When he called last night, he said she hadn't eaten in two days. He had to help her stand up and lay down.
He said it was time to say goodbye.
I drove down today. When I called to let them know I was on my way, my mom told me, "You know you don't have to come." I told her to shut up, because yes I did.
I sat with Josie for a long time. She was laying on her doggy bed. She still hadn't eaten, and she wasn't drinking much water, either. She was shivering, and her body temperature was low. We put blankets on her to help.
I just sat their, petting my girl and telling her she was pretty and that I love her. It took me at least half an hour to leave because I kept having to go see her again. I didn't want it to be the last time.
My dad is taking her to the vet tomorrow. Her body is shutting down, and we don't want her to suffer anymore. My mom told me that she asked my dad the other night what they were going to do, and he said, "Keep her company." Not comfortable, but keep her company.
I still can't really believe it. I knew she was getting old, and that she was getting sick, but I just always thought she had longer.
I've been going through crying bouts all day. My parents would just hug me, and say they were sorry. I don't think DH totally understands my pain (he's never had a pet of his own until Watson. His mom had some cats, but no pets that were ever his.) He keeps asking if I'm okay, and telling me he's sorry, but I don't think he really understands the depth of my grief.
So that's why I'm posting on here. I wanted to tell Josie's story. We would always say that she was a really bad pet but a really good dog. But no matter what, she was always my favorite girl and my best friend, and she gave these great hugs where I would sit on the floor and hug her around the neck, and she would throw her head up against mine.
I just can't believe that tomorrow she'll be gone.
And if any of you took the time to read all of this...thank you.
I got a call from my dad last night. One that I knew was probably coming soon, but I was dreading it.
He asked what I was doing today (my answer: "uh...laundry.") He told me to come to their house. When I asked why, he said "Josie. She's really sick, honey."
My heart immediately broke, there in the card aisle at Walmart while I was trying to figure out which thank you cards to get. Not an ideal place to get that call.
I haven't talked about Josie too much on here. She's a beagle. We adopted her when I was 13 (I'm 23 now.) On my birthday, when I blew out my candles, my mom asked me what I wished for. I told her, "The same thing I've wished for since I was 4. A dog" (I don't remember this at all, but that's what my mom has told me. Apparently she then looked at my dad and said "Just get the kid a dog.") About a month or so later, my dad and I began going around to different shelters, looking at dogs. We must have checked 5 or 6 different shelters, looking for a dog that was just right.
Finally we found her. I loved beagles, ever since I read the "Shiloh" series as a kid, She was perfect.
Well...we thought so at first. See, this dog had been feral out on some farms in a small town, until she started chasing the farmers' chickens and they called animal control. She had no "pet" in her...just dog. Within 30 minutes of bringing her home, she found a hole under our fence and escaped into the field/wooded area behind my parents house. (We finally caught her.)
It took us a few days to name her. Her name in the shelter was BARBIE of all things, but I know it was probably just the next female name in the book. It got to the point that my mom was just rattling off name after name. Finally she said Josie, and we all looked at each other (me, mom, dad, and my sister) and we just knew it was right. (My sister and I were big fans of the movie Josie and the Pussycats.)
But this dog was nothing but trouble, which soon became her middle name. She would constantly dig out of the yard, has been sprayed by skunks about 6 times, and bitten by copperheads 4 or 5 times. But nothing would ever stop her. She also learned not to go up to the neighbors after escaping from the yard. They would grab her collar and bring her right home. She would go up to each neighbor once, and then never again because she knew they would bring her back. There were times she'd be gone for 10, 12 hours. We learned not to look for her because it didn't matter. We'd just open the back gate, because she would come home when she was done.
She was my best friend for years. When I went away to college, she would freak when I came home on weekends. It was like those videos of dogs seeing their soldier-owner come home after deployment. It was the best thing ever, because no matter what my week had been like, I always knew she would be so happy to see me. It was even better once I got my own apartment with DH and didn't come home as often.
Josie has been sick for a while now. It started with a small hole/pocket in her gum. Hair and stuff would get impacted in it from chewing on herself. The vet showed my mom and dad how to go in with tweezers and pull it out, but it started getting worse, and she stopped letting them do it. The vet said that she could pull the tooth, but at her age (13) it was risky to put her under. But now it's infected something awful.
Recently she stopped eating much, so my dad switched her to wet food. And then even that was too much. I was home last weekend and watched my dad feed her for 15 minutes. She was eating some Moist 'n Meaty, so he'd put down a small handful, wait for her to eat it, and then give her a bit more. Her would even give her small handfuls of cat food because it was small enough she didn't have to chew it.
When he called last night, he said she hadn't eaten in two days. He had to help her stand up and lay down.
He said it was time to say goodbye.
I drove down today. When I called to let them know I was on my way, my mom told me, "You know you don't have to come." I told her to shut up, because yes I did.
I sat with Josie for a long time. She was laying on her doggy bed. She still hadn't eaten, and she wasn't drinking much water, either. She was shivering, and her body temperature was low. We put blankets on her to help.
I just sat their, petting my girl and telling her she was pretty and that I love her. It took me at least half an hour to leave because I kept having to go see her again. I didn't want it to be the last time.
My dad is taking her to the vet tomorrow. Her body is shutting down, and we don't want her to suffer anymore. My mom told me that she asked my dad the other night what they were going to do, and he said, "Keep her company." Not comfortable, but keep her company.
I still can't really believe it. I knew she was getting old, and that she was getting sick, but I just always thought she had longer.
I've been going through crying bouts all day. My parents would just hug me, and say they were sorry. I don't think DH totally understands my pain (he's never had a pet of his own until Watson. His mom had some cats, but no pets that were ever his.) He keeps asking if I'm okay, and telling me he's sorry, but I don't think he really understands the depth of my grief.
So that's why I'm posting on here. I wanted to tell Josie's story. We would always say that she was a really bad pet but a really good dog. But no matter what, she was always my favorite girl and my best friend, and she gave these great hugs where I would sit on the floor and hug her around the neck, and she would throw her head up against mine.
I just can't believe that tomorrow she'll be gone.
And if any of you took the time to read all of this...thank you.
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