I’m All About a Dog
Last month I was headed home up our canyon and a woman driving south stopped me. “There are two dogs on the loose. Maybe you will know who they belong to.” She swiftly drove away. I carefully inched northward on the lookout. It wasn’t long before I spotted the escapees.
Two furry freshmen on their first spring break traipsed deliriously up the mountain road. I watched as a truck barely missed them honking his horn in frustration. They were exquisitely handsome greyish brown, and white huskies giddy with their illicit taste of freedom.
I attempted a few captures stopping my car and coaxing with whistles and hand commands to enter my open back door. One would look at me with sky blue eyes as if there was some recognition contemplating the trust, then be off in a flash not so sure about this woman pretending to be family.
The third stop did the trick when I knelt and cooed in the universal baby talk dogs respond to. Frankly I think they were a little tired and relieved to be rescued by that time. I received a thank you kiss on the cheek as they popped ever so smartly into my back seat. Thanks to a tag on the collar with “Call my Mom”, and a number etched in the metal, I deposited them safely home.
As I returned to my house and my own dear dog of sixteen and a half years the juxtaposition of her elderly condition with such youthful energy and enthusiasm brought my current thoughts into sharper focus.
My husband and I have known our Frankie girl has been living in a state of borrowed time for many months. We have watched her decline more rapidly in the last year. It is a difficult decision to accept the end of a fur baby’s lifetime within the family. We had been noting her multiplying symptoms ever fearful we’d find her someday in a state of trauma while we were gone. Finally, I succumbed to the internet for education on how to determine her quality of life. It was something I truly could not face but had no choice. It’s not a subject people talk about very much. The idea of the loss is brutal, particularly when you are the one making the call.
Frankie had been pacing for months clicking her toenails back and forth across our wooden floors in the evenings. I read that it was nature’s way for a weakened dog to show strength against their predators in the wild never lying down and always moving for safety. She was experiencing pain, breathing heavily and having more trouble getting up on her own. Her arthritis stiffened her moves but not her love for us.
We vacillated ultimately taking her to the vet. We received the same prognosis as our online studies had given us. Her bad days were outweighing her good days. Her score was across the board euthanasia. I had to selflessly think about her needs above my own. There is nothing more counterintuitive than to imagine ending the life of a beloved canine child even if it is to relieve them of pain and suffering. When they lick you in the mornings and follow you around the house with that devotion and stalwart nature only a dog owns it is an impossible choice. After fruitlessly trying injections and medicine for her torn ACL and degenerative diseases, we made the decision to call an in-home veterinary service.
We grieved the decision but knew it was best for her. We were with her loving on her to the last peaceful moment. I picture her in a special doggy heaven where I will see her again along with all my other past puppies someday. I’ve loved all the dogs in my life with a fervor. There have been many since I was a child until today. Each was special with their own personality and temperament. Each taught me the value of unconditional love and loyalty. I adore all animals in this world, but there is just something special about a dog.
This is the holiday season yet again. Schools start in August now not September and Christmas feels like it is here the minute the leaves fall off the trees. The years, months, days, and minutes march on bringing the beginnings and endings of new and older stories to fruition. My dog chapters may be temporarily over. We shall see. In the meantime, I plan to soak up the love of my grand-dog and pretty much any dog I see with an owner that will allow me to give their pet a loving snuggle. I thank you in advance if that owner turns out to be you.
The following verses from First Corinthians sum up our sweet Frankie with perfection. God bless her doggie soul.
Frankie Greig August 20th, 2009 – November 17th, 2025.
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails…
1 Corinthians 13:4-7
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