Hello Sadness My Old Friend

It's really crazy of me to think that I can write on this blog and write about something other than missing my dog.  I miss him terribly. I feel something similar to guilt, but not quite guilt.  It's indescribable really, but I'll try.  I know that Murray was suffering, I know that Murray couldn't walk anymore, I know that he would hang on to the very end.  I wasn't sure what "the very end" meant, but now I know that I wonder if I should have left him alone.  Let him die his way.



 People are way too uptight about animals and the mess that they sometimes inevitably make. Since I am such an animal lover I should just let myself accept that I'm not conventional about a lot of things.





 But I guess everyone likes to fit in.  (Now don't get me wrong, I love living in a beautiful home that shines with taste and attention.) Still, Murray couldn't get up anymore, needed help just going out to the yard, had to have his food delivered to him...and his water.  Still for God's sake, I wonder if I just should have let nature take it's course.  That is the most difficult part about playing God. I really wonder how God feels when people die. I certainly don't think God is the 'author' of death by any means.



The days are just empty and the sadness, although it really isn't overwhelming, is still a guest in my home.  Sadness, just sitting in the empy spot where my boy used to lie.  You know, the night before he died I thought I saw a scorpian crawling towards him, and then under his bed......now I'm not so sure if it wasn't just a sign.  I mean I don't think I'll ever see another one in my home again.  It's just my gut and honestly, my gut has NEVER been wrong. 

It's a relief knowing that I don't have to worry about Murray's pain, feel bad that he wasn't able to climb the steps to be with us at night, and then the guilt that I always felt when I took Lexy for a walk and he wasn't able to go.  But the sadness?  I'm not so sure it will ever go away, I'll just learn to live with it.

The End of the Story

Murray's gone.  The vet came at 4 this afternoon.  She was very good, very compassionate, and she told me everything I wanted to know. She was very loving to Murray as well.  She spoke to him, encouraged me to continually speak to him.  She told me she was going to give him a sedative to take the edge off.  The final injection is actually similar to an i.v.  She told me the sedative would take about 10 minutes and that Murray would be sort of like he is drunk, very relaxed.  And she was right.  She had to shave his leg because he has this sort of down like hair and the veins are difficult to see. He hates the sound of clippers, but he was okay, the clippers weren't so loud after all.  When he was letting the meds settle in, I talked a little about the cost.  It was actually almost half of what I thought it would be.  The "ten minutes" went by pretty fast, but I held his head and talked quietly in his ear. 

She put the lethal injection in his vein in his arm and it hurt him so he turned toward her and jumped and cried out.  Then he put his head in my lap and within 30 seconds he was gone. I felt the life release from his body.  She said he was gone, I looked at his body and the breathing that had been so steady, was still...not a move.  His head laid heavy in my lap.

This is the end of my story. I've blogged about it the last two or three days. This is the end.  So many pet owners in their tributes to their loved ones speak of how much they loved their pets ....they do talk about the unconditional love their furry loved ones gave them, but what stands out in my mind is their love for them.  I want to say that Murray's love for me stands out in my mind.  His patience with me, his compassion when I would cry; he would always come and lick my face. 

I try to think that I'm not judgemental, but if you were to come to me and minimize the amount of influence the love of a dog has on ones life, I would judge you as an idiot, an insenstive, shallow person, a person I would have nothing more to do with.  A dog's love is far superior to a human's.  Truly.  It's sad they can't speak, and they don't have  opposing thumbs, only for the skeptics that is.  They don't need English or an opposing thumb for me to know that these sweet creations from God are actually just an extension of his love and mercy to humans. 

Murray, and sometimes I called him 'the Murman' is so missed by me right now.  And probably will be for a long time to come.  So, here is my last post, a letter to him.

Dearest Murray,

I am so sorry the decision to end your life was in my hands.  I'm sorry that I couldn't have helped you stay longer, helped you live more comfortably. Thank you for being the gentle spirit that you were.  You were intentionally kind to all the kids who put their tiny faces right up to yours...and all you did was give them a sloppy kiss and make them wince and laugh.  Thank you for each time I cried, you were there, sad face for me and all.  Thank you that you loved me when it seemed no one else could.  Thank you for being present when I felt alone at night. 

I hope that tonight you're somewhere flying free of pain and sadness, because that's the least you deserve.  I hope that somewhere you know that this middle aged lady loves you with all of her heart and soul and is one very sad person . I wish I could give you one more hug, one more whisper of love, one more anything really.  Death truly sucks...it's just shitty.  I love you Murman, you will always be a huge part of my heart.  You helped my healing and for that there are no words to show my gratefulness.

This poem really sums up my feelings....Murray, this is for you..rest well my friend...I loved you much!

Funeral Blues (Song IX / from Two Songs for Hedli Anderson)

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone.
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling in the sky the message 'He is Dead',
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun.
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

w.h.auden

A Sad Day

My dog Murray will be euthanized today at 4.  It's now 12:36.  It's really a sickening thing for me.  Although I know it's the best thing for him. (He is 70 pounds, 16 years old and can't walk anymore...even with help from his  brace he's had, it's close to impossible.)  He has slowly deteriorated and then in the last week, he's declining fast.  Okay, enough of all the justifications.  In my heart of hearts I wonder why the hell these things are put in our hands.  I know, I know, it's an imperfect world and this isn't the way it was supposed to be. Still, knowing I'm going to take a life, on purpose is just horrible. One can say, "no, you're relieving him from his suffering", but I'm the who has decided when Murray will take his last breath, eat his last meal, drink his last bit of ice water.  I'm the one playing God and I hate it.

I sort of guess there are people out there who say "it's just a dog, not a human" and I say back at them, you have no idea. They are living, intelligent creatures whom God made with love and intention.  These 'just dogs' are more intuitive and perceptive than most humans I know.

I don't have a whole lot to say but for some reason the need to write is just there.  Then when I begin to write, I feel empty and inadequate to find the right words....even the right thoughts.  My thoughts are just this flow of feelings from the pit of my stomach.  When I have the thought of the fact that Murray only has four more hours with me, with us...it sickens me, truly a sick feeling. 

If I just think of him, and how to make it easier on him, it might be better for me, you know, not wallow in self pity.  Loss, dear God, loss is the hardest thing, but this time I feel that it's intentional.  I need to remind myself that it's the right thing.

Murray is such a gentle, sweet dog.  He was actually kind, yes, dogs can be intentionally kind, to everyone he came in contact with.  One exception was when we were at doggy park and we sat on the bench for a rest, some guy started walking  towards us.  Murray gave this deep, gutteral growl, snarl.  It was a protective thing I think.  In any case, I didn't ever see him do it again.

We got him from a sherlter about 16 years ago.  The lady at the desk said a very rude man came in, propped Murray on the desk and said, "here, take him."  He was a pup then.  I'm so happy my husband saw him huddled away in his own little cage.  He looked terrified.  That's one thing about Murray, his face is so expressive.  You can always tell what's going on with him just by looking at his face.  This dog smiled more than any other dog even though his first few months on earth were probably hellish with his first owner.  We really tried to make up for it these past 16 years. 

The look on his face now is tired, confused and well....very tired and old.  He used to smile every time I would walk in the door.  These past few weeks I can't see the smile.  I see the love he has for me, but not the smile. 

Okay, so enough, I just had to vent yet again.  I'm going to be the only family member here when the vet comes.  I thought that was a good idea, but now I'm not so sure.  I mean maybe it would have been better to have my husband here.  He's out of town and won't get back until later tonight. I'm not sure how I'll feel after they take Murray's body away.  My feelings sometimes catch me off guard. 

If you ever have to make this decision, my heart is with you.  Anyone who has ever loved a furry friend has had a taste of God's unconditional love. 

When Euthanasia Comes Home (Saying Good-Bye to Murray)

Murray has been a close friend of mine for almost 16 years.  We found Murray in a shelter, huddled in a back room , scared as could be.  We, of course, loved his sweet face and knew he was the one for us and Mike, our other dog. We were so right!  Murray has been the most gentle spirit I have ever known, ask any family member of mine, it's true.

Isn't he pretty?  Lately, however, he's been feeling bad, really bad.  He already had severe arthritis in his back legs, and now his front legs are just tired from bearing all the weight.  He has been panting, "woofing" at night, (yes, the sound is a deep, gutteral 'woof') and if he is not pumped up on pain meds and buffered asprin all the time, he would be helplessly in pain.  I've had to make the most difficult decision I've ever had to make, euthanize him.  God, just saying it is tramatic. It is SO like playing God.  I don't want that job. 
Unfortunately, I have it. 

Right now, looking over at him he seems okay, but I have to remember that the other night when I helped him go out to do his thing, his back legs slipped and he fell in his own excrement.  That is one thing about Murry, ever since the day we got him...he did not 'go' in the house.  He would either painfully hold it until we got home, or bark and let us know he needed out.

I would still like to not have to make this decisioin, but it looks like it's up to me. I mean, he can't get up to eat or drink, I bring his meals to him, and of course, his water.  I did research on euthanasia for dogs.  I've decided to go out and buy him a lot of great food I know he's enjoy.  I'm paying the extra to have a house call.  Murray hates the vet.  He gets so nervous.  So, the vet will come on Wednesday at 4, give him a sedative, and then the lethal injection.  They assured me it was not painful.  I asked if they knew because of the way the body reacted after the injection and they said yes. 

Mike, another great friend and pet stayed alive until the very painful end.  It was actually very horrible.  We woke up one Sunday morning to him sort of going a little crazy in panic because of the pain.  He just ran...ran to try to run away from the pain.  It was horrible; he fell down the basement steps and that's when we decided to take him to the nearest hospital.  When we got there they took him on a stretcher to the operating room.  As I went in and started to hold him they were getting the needle ready. I told him to let go...that I was there and to let go, it was okay.  And he did, before they even injected him.  But the point is that I think I waited too long.  He had been in pain for over a year.  I could tell by his excessive panting.  That's one of the reasons why I've made this decision. 

Am I having doubts? YES, but I know it's the right thing.  Would I help a human die if they were in the same postion?  Maybe.

Father's Day and Other Meanderings.

So hey, happy Father's Day to all whom is appropriate.  You would think that I would spend more time on my own father, but, not.  I'm not going to do that.  He is, in all due respect, gone, and has been gone for a long time.  I will honor my children's father right now.  And maybe all fathers who are, by all means, imperfect.

When I married, I had NO idea what it all meant.  I had no idea that I would get pregnant shortly thereafter and have our firstborn.  I, indeed, was NOT prepared.  I truly wanted our first born to be four years later.  But noooo...it was only three months after we were married.  I thought I had a bad case of the flu.  When my husband came home from work on his bicycle from the parks district, I told him it wasn't the flu, but a baby.  He had this smile on is face that I really haven't seen since.  He just sort of stopped dead in his tracks and smiled.  The bike still under him, not put away yet.  And me? Standing there waiting for his reaction, and 34 years later remembering like it was yesterday. 

He loved our daugher, as imperfect as he was able, he loved her.  His own father being his own model.....and only the first 8 years of his life.  Then, four years after our first born, he was a father again, of a boy, a son.  My husband did the best he  could do, and that was huge.  I love him so for that. He still does the best he can do with his adult children. We are baby-sitting tonight....our grandkids.  My husband helped bathe and put to bed his grandkids...and in my opinion...he did a great job...and his grandkids opinon, I'm sure they'll remember their "gampa".  I love you Phil...for all you are.

Speaking of Israel

I had a great night with my daughter and then later my daughter and her husband.  We started talking about Israel and my heart felt a little sad.  I lived there years ago on a kibbutz. 



It was my dream to go there, live and learn the language, and tell the Jews about Jesus. (I was a Jesus freak of the 70's).  I not only did that, but found a husband and convinced him that Jesus was indeed, his Messiah. But that was dream ago.  Since then it's been a journey, to say the least. I always wanted to return to Israel, I love it so.  I specifically wanted to live in Haifa because I loved the British architecture which was predominate in that city by the ocean. 


Fortunately, my daughter and my son were able to spend two weeks there a couple of years ago and she reminded me that there is something very special there...a feeling....a spirit...something!  I was able to visit a few years ago and it was like seeing a long, lost love.  Just getting off the plane the feeling hit me, hit me hard.  I felt home. If a country could be a 'soul mate', Israel was mine.  My husband and I only spent a week there, but it was like I had never left, other than the fact that it seemed all grown up and sophisticated from the pioneer spirit it had when I lived there.  Still, there was something that was so familiar and right about it.  When we had to go home, I was teary eyed and sad.



Talking with my daughter about it, and my experiences there so many years ago, made my heart ache.  I don't know why I never returned like I had wanted...well..I sort of do..but not really.  I'm too used to the spoiled American way and the easy life I know and have known for the past 35 years.  Still, my heart aches for what could have been. 

Hope

I think this entry might not be what I would like it to be, but so be it.  What I'd like for it to be is a happy little post on how positive things are in my corner of the world.  Now, don't get me wrong.  I am ever so grateful for all the love and beauty in my life.  My family is healthy, wealthy and wise, I'm happily married to a wonderful man...our anniversary is soon and we will celebrate 35 years together.  I have a beautiful home, I'm healthy and strong. 

However, I am not working and that, my friend, is a problem.  I try to maintain a positive attitude.  I have repeated affirmations (not as many times as I'd like, but hey, I'm working on it) on how things are working out for my highest good. Still, not producing money is getting to me.  It's not just the money, it's the productivity. 

Thankfully I'm tutoring my granddaughter and excited to see results.  That, however, is about it.  Every day I go online to see what jobs are available.  I used to be an ESL teacher in Kansas City.Every morning when I went to the gym   to collect my students, I'd smile and say, "Look at these beautiful, intelligent, wonderfully behaved students."  And they'd get up and come over to show me something they were wearing, or to just give me a hello hug.  Wow, those were the days!  And yes, I did have the best class in the school!!! Seriously those students gave me more than I ever could give them.   Every time I taught, I had this experience, no matter where or with who.  I am very fortunate!

 I am not a certified teacher and am not able to be certified.  I just worked for a great school who gave me the opportunity to prove to them I would be great...and I did prove it to them!  Although I have many faults, one thing I know, I was a good teacher.  An excellent teacher if I may say so.  I was able to infuse self confidence in my students and was also able to help them believe in themselves, all the while teaching them what they needed to know as a building block in that confidence.



I love beauty and am able to help people surround themselves with an enjoyable space on a minimum budget.  I am good at that also.  Still, nothing.  Honestly, I have never been in this type of situtation and it's difficult to keep my proverbial head above the water.  There are principals in the universe that I believe are just true.  Tithing is one of those principals that I KNOW is a must. 



I have seen people who tithe and it's true, God has not forgotten them, has given them all they need.  As a matter of fact, that's the only time in the bible where God says, "test me on this". 

Malachi 3:10

New International Version (NIV)

¹⁰ Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Test me in this,” says the LORD Almighty, “and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that there will not be room enough to store it.




I confess that for a time, a short time, we didn't. We didn't think we could.  All hell broke out and now I've learned my lesson.  It has nothing to do with the goodness or character of God, it has everything to do with laws set up in the universe.  Anyway, I'm resolved to never miss another tithe payment, not matter what...no matther how counter-intuitive it may seem.  Don't even try to persuade me differently.

My friend called the other night and wanted me to help her drive cross country to her new home in the midwest.  I think, if I don't have a job in the next day or so, I'll take her up on that.



 In the meantime, I'll keep you posted.  My heart is a little fragile right now as I'm in a place I've never been before...but hey, I'm here.