My good girl died two days ago. I felt the sting the day I heard she had cancer. I felt it the day I let her go. But I've also been functioning fairly well 'cause she was "just a dog."
My "just a dog" warmed our home the day we picked her up. She enriched the lives of our children and pretty much anybody who met her. She was calm and fun and patient and happy and loving and gentle. And she was beautiful.
She tolerated dogs, but she LOVED people. She was a people dog. And a people pleaser -- until she got to be about 12 or 13 and occasionally only wanted to do what she wanted to do. 😉
She loved Harvey so much...and he loved her. He introduced her to swimming (which she loved) and he took her on pretty much all of the trails of Galbraith after he was diagnosed in 2011. She would sit outside with him when he did yard work or sit nearby when he was doing wood work in the garage. They were buds.
She'd run outside with great enthusiasm when the girls (in their middle school days) would start running towards the door and say "to the woods!" She'd hang outside with them when they did and was happy just BEING with them.
When Harvey went to hospice, we found out that we could take her there with us. She heard Harvey stirring in the night and stood up to check on him. And the last words Harvey said were "Lie down, Raney"... and she did.
She had a few medical things during her 14 years and she was so good about whatever treatment was required. It started with allergy shots and neither she nor I enjoyed the shots, but she was a good girl. She hated having her ears cleaned after swimming or if she needed medications, but she handled that with grace -- if such a thing can be. She tolerated surgeries well and the healing time required afterwards.
When Clemmie joined the family, Raney was patient until she had to make a thing or two very clear. Clemmie knew Raney was the boss, but she also took advantage of her patience and good nature. Raney almost always let Clemmie "steal" her toy or her stick or the attention. One of Clemmie's favorite things was to ambush Raney when we'd be on walks in the woods. She'd run ahead and find a good spot on a hill and then run down and "attack" Raney. Raney got to where she could see what was happening and she'd try to find a spot behind a tree so Clemmie couldn't knock her down. She didn't fuss at her, though. She'd just try to avoid her.
During her last couple of months, she seemed like she had a burst of energy. She was so happy to be in the woods and she would gallop to catch up after she had stopped to eat lots of wood from decaying trees. 😊 She was able to walk further than she had been doing and with more energy.
I do remember wondering - while witnessing her verve for life - if this was the calm before the storm. But I just didn't expect to be told that she had cancer. I guess no one does. I was so happy and pleased that she made it to 14 and seemed healthy, that the cancer just kinda snuck up.
She was diagnosed on Sunday and she was gone by mid-day on Tuesday. She was ready.
I have been sad. I have cried. I haven't anticipated the physiological effects of grief, though. I mean she's "just a dog." But the fact of the matter is that all of me is grieving. I'm functioning. I'm living life...but I am grief-exhausted.
Many of you have heard me say this, but when Harvey and I got Raney, we told each other that we were gonna need six months bereavement leave 'cause she was so good.
My "just a dog" is one of the very best gifts I've ever been given.
She leaves a giant hole in the world.
