Diary of a Senior

Our precious 14-year-old retriever, died on the 18^th. Quietly. Life had been become a struggle. It was time to go. She gave me the signal. Sally would have been 15 in September. 

Grief is painful. (I had suggested to her that my goal was to get her to 20 - in 6 years, our little secret). By noon that fateful day, she would not open her eyes or eat. Food was of no interest to her in any form. She had other plans or should I say God did. I will miss her terribly.

Her 10-year-old companion knows why Sally is not here. He had stopped running with her, engaging with her and being too close to her. Occasionally noses would meet. She was fragile, he knew, but he was there, that ever watchful eye over his sister who was four years old when they met and became her brother.

In the final weeks of her life everything that made sense was done to get her up and going. Even though my goals for her were out of step with reality, optimism reigns in this house of puppies. It must. My feelings did not matter. Her struggles did. I had cooked everything worth eating for her daily confusing  dietary routine. I never knew and neither did she. 

The best in dry/wet food available was here to entice her to eat. I conferred with our local pet store. Any secret to get a dog eating? Cancer had returned on her back. I referred to it as a living broach. She's had a tumour removed from her leg years ago. Time, I guess, had run out. A soft like shoulder harness became her newest accessory designed to make her life and mine easier for those nighttime/daytime trips outside.

I see the things that were above and beyond. Canned food had become front and center yet their nutrient value fell short of my expectations. In the 70's, glucose-fructose was an ingredient in dog food. Why? 

Feeding our pets from the table seemed alright back then, but not now. I'm not sure. One brand I fed my girl, a top one in the industry, recommended feeding her, a former 70 pound dynamo, 6 cans a day to maintain current weight. The lunacy of it all.  Six cans a day? Really? How exhausting is that?Obviously, nutrition was not a priority. Or did the company not understand nutrient value. Were we slowly killing our pets back then?

The pet food scandal of 2007 had melamine dressed up as protein, a basic ingredient for canned pet food. They died those dogs and cats served up as guinea pigs. How could they? That was the last time I trusted anyone with our pet's dietary protocols. I digress. But food is medicine, even in a dog's world. 

My girl is gone and I miss her terribly but this distress has happened before. Sally was #7 plus my cat Tia #6, a 16 years old, when she left us. I took Tia's death especially hard, after all, cats/kittens are disposable commodities from birth, it seems. They're dumpster material, garbage and always free to a good home? 

My Tia was a few weeks old when I found her in frigid -40 weather (wind chill factor) where the snow  squeaked, that early Monday morning. Tia's gig lasting 16 years alongside my other 'daughter' and Sally's late brother was comforting, loving, energizing and simply funny. Their stories coloured my world with laughter and meaning. I loved them all. I mourn them too. Good bye, my sweets. I will love you all, forever and always.