Cheeky Sweetie

When I first saw you at the county animal shelter, I knew you were the one.  You were so happy to see us and you stole our hearts when you smooshed your face against the chain link fence to lick our hands…hands we weren’t supposed to be touching you with, but we couldn’t resist because you were so sweet.

You reminded us so much of Trinity, an American Bulldog we had when Faith was a baby.  She was dognapped, and we weren’t able to get her back.  We have always missed her, and you looked like an negative image of her with the Black Lab you had in you.  Your paws were a good size, and I thought you’d grow a bit bigger than I had been looking for in a pup, but my heart just told me that you were meant for our family.

I filled out the application for you on the 12th of March.  Brian was with me, because we had just dropped Seraphina, our younger calico kitty, off at PetLuv to be fixed.  Brian fell in love, too.  He even offered to pay more child support to help feed you, hah.  The told me you were a stray that was picked on on the 10th, and they would hold you until the 16th in case your owner came looking for you, and then the applications would be reviewed and the best home would be chosen.

I was so sure someone would come for you.  I would look for you if you got out, so I just knew your former owner would.  I even called Animal Services on the 15th to check, but I couldn’t remember your kennel number, so they couldn’t tell me anything.  The morning of the 16th was a big disaster for me, but then I realized it was your review day, and I drove straight to the pound to see if you were there.  When I walked in and explained why I was there, they had me walk back to find your kennel number, if you were still there.  You were resting in the rear part of your kennel, and I didn’t see you at first.  My heart fell, but I was happy your family had come for you…..and then you came trotting out like you knew I’d be back.  I was so happy to see you, and I gave you some love through the fence and told you I wanted to take you home.  It was like you understood me when you looked up at me; I could see the intelligence in your eyes.

I went back into the office and there was only one other application for you, and they only wanted you if no one else came.  But I did, so we were chosen.  I was so excited!  I paid your adoption fee and ran to Wal-mart before I picked you up to get all the stuff you would need in your new home: food and water bowls, food, shampoo, flea repellent drops, a collar and leash, tennis balls to play with, treats, and rawhide bones.  I spent $120 on you in the first hour I had you…you really were one of my babies now, heh.

When they brought you out on the slip rope, you were a maniac…so excited!  I didn’t get you ten feet from the door and you got your rope off your neck somehow!  I wrestled to get it back on, but you slipped away and ran back to the door, tail wagging like a wind up toy.  I thought, oh my Lord, if they see I lost you before we got to the car they’ll make me give you back!  I called you back and you came, and I slipped the thin yellow rope back over your neck and proudly…joyfully…walked you to my car.  I couldn’t believe it when you just hopped up in the car like you’d been riding in it all your life.  And then you just sat in the backseat, looking around and leaning forward to lick my shoulder every now and then.  I talked to you the whole way home, telling you all about your new home, and your new family, and how excited they would be to meet you.  I reached back every now and then and loved on your sweet little face.

When we got home, you waited until I called you to hop out of the car, and excitedly followed me to the door.  Gracie, our momma calico kitty, was waiting at the door, and she was pretty surprised to see you!  I shooed her back when she hissed and you trusted me when I told you it was okay and gestured you to go in.  You curiously jogged around, sniffing everything, and running back to me every few seconds, as if to assure yourself it was real…I was real…you had a home!  You and Seraphina didn’t get along so well, but that wasn’t your fault.  You kept a respectful distance, but you really wanted to play with her, I could tell.  She, however, would have none of it.  Her long calico fur would stand three inches high on her back and she  whenever you came within three feet of her.  She spent the entire first day you came home crouched on the dresser in the corner of my bedroom, hah!

You loved your backyard, didn’t you, Harley?  We never really cleaned it up so well, so there was a lot to explore.  We played with your tennis ball for a while back there, until you got thirsty and came inside.  I set up your food and water bowls, and gave you your rawhide chew.  I even gave you a treat, and got you to sit for it.  I put on your collar with the skull and crossbones on it, and I thought you looked so cool.  You didn’t even mind it at all.  I wasn’t sure if you were housebroken, but as the hours ticked by, you just casually slipped out the back sliders that I left open for you when you had to go.  I fell more in love with you as I realized how well behaved you were.  I couldn’t resist letting you up on the couch to snuggle with me, and we even took a nap together.  I woke up fully expecting to see something or other chewed up on the floor, but you were still happily nestled against me.  I couldn’t wait for the kids to get home and meet you, and Brian was racing to finish his work so he could be home when they saw you for the first time.

I was so excited when I heard the bus go by.  I got my phone video recorder ready and waited for what seemed like for-e-ver.  When they finally came to the door, you were in the backyard, so it didn’t exactly go as planned, heh.  They thought I was showing them how Seraphina was going outside.  But, they were crazy about you, just like I knew they would be, and you seemed so happy that your new home came with kids!

We spent the night trying to think of the perfect name for you.  The kids played with you in the backyard and in the house.  The neighborhood kids came to meet you and put in their ideas for names.  You played with your tug toy and your ball and chewed on your rawhide like you were totally comfortable, and my heart soared at how perfectly you fit into our family, just like I knew you would.

That night Brian, Christian, and Monica went to Wal-mart to get you a crate.  We still weren’t sure how you’d do at night, and everyone we know who crate-trained had good results.  So another $100 later, we had a roomy crate, a soft bed, and an unspillable bowl for you.  I was worried you’d cry, but you just went to sleep like you knew it was just as it should be.  In the morning, Brian came and let you out and you went right out and did your business, and then the girls played with you in the back yard before school.

The day came and went just like I’d imagined.  You were happy and playful and sweet.  You were sitting on command within 24 hours of coming home with me.  You were comfortable in your crate and would go sleep on your bed in it when you got sleepy.  I was so happy, and I couldn’t wait for my mom to meet you.  You probably didn’t know, but she called me twice every day to check on you.  When the kids got home, Faith even crawled in the crate with you and laid down with you.  She was very gentle with you, which is not so common with her little wild heart.  I think she felt a kinship with you.

When Thursday morning came, it was the day you were going to PetLuv to get fixed and to get your shots and whatnot.  I couldn’t feed or water you, anyway, so I didn’t notice that your appetite was gone.  I put your leash on and walked you to the car and you seemed happy to be going out.  When we got to PetLuv, you didn’t want to get out of the car at first, and you seemed scared when we went in.  I thought you might be afraid that I brought you back to the pound or something.  Everyone commented on what a good pup you were while I filled out the paperwork, asking for the works-microchipping, all the shots available, deworming, heartworm prevention.  This is the most responsible I’ve ever been, as a pet owner.  But I loved you, and I wanted to give you all the health advantages I could provide.

When they took you back, and then came back to me and asked if you’d been lethargic, I said no.  I was thinking of that happy playful puppy popping bubbles the day before.  But they said you had vomited back there, and they took your temperature, and it was 104, when it should be around 101.  They said you needed to see a vet, and get clearance before they could safely proceed with surgery.  I asked if they knew of any vets that took walk-ins, and we stopped at one they suggested, but they couldn’t see you until the afternoon, so we made an appointment, and went home to see if we could find another that could take you sooner.  I did get an appointment at 11am, and Jess came with me when we took you.  That vet and the staff was wonderful, and because your CBC count was 1300, and parvo usually causes CBCs of around 2000-3000, we didn’t think it was parvo.  We thought you had some other intestinal flu or infection.  We put you on antibiotics and anti-diarrhea meds.  And we took you home to rest.  Another $160, but well worth it, because I thought you would get better.

My mom came that evening to meet you and have dinner, and she loved you too.  Even sick, you dragged your sweet little doggy butt outside every time you had to go, or vomit.  I couldn’t believe what a great pup you were, and I tried to make sure the kids let you rest.  I knew you were sick, but you still came out to greet my mom, and the kids when they got home, and Brian when he came by.  I thought you’d get better.  I gave you your meds and you never got snappy with me prying your mouth open or anything.  That night I felt so bad for you that I slept on the couch and let you sleep snuggled up to my legs.  I’m so glad I did…I had no idea that would be my last chance.

Friday morning came and you still weren’t drinking anything.  I didn’t expect you to eat, but I worried about you getting dehydrated.  So I would periodically use the turkey baster to get some fluids in you.  I had plans for the weekend, and Brian was going to step in and care for you overnight, and I expected you to be well enough by Saturday for Christian to look out for you.  I watched you carefully all day, ready to change my plans if you took a turn for the worse.  But it was pretty much just more of the same…resting, vomiting now and then, and the occasional bout of diarrhea.  I thought you’d be fine if we just kept you hydrated.  I kissed you good bye when we left, never thinking it would be the last time I saw you.

I got updates from Brian while I was away, and it seemed like you were improving at first…you were drinking on your own, and you hadn’t vomited in a while.  But late Friday night while I was out with friends, I got the news that heralded the beginning of the end.  Brian called in a panic; he thought you had vomited blood all over yourself and your crate.  It turned out to be bloody diarrhea.  We called the emergency clinic down the street.  I was sobbing as I explained what happened.  The woman who answered said it sounded like it was parvo, and that it would be nearly $300 for the visit and diagnostics, and around $900 for hospitalization and fluids.  But….I couldn’t afford that.  My mileage wasn’t in yet….I didn’t even have it set aside for other things to take back from.  And you were drinking, still, so fluids wouldn’t do you much good.  So, I told Brian we couldn’t take you.  He cleaned you up, and your crate, and washed your bedding.  He took such good care of you.  I just begged him to keep you as comfortable as possible, and prayed that you would be able to fight it off.

Saturday I was encouraged that you may be able to do just that.  You hadn’t had any more diarrhea, and you were drinking.  But then Brian called me and told me that you were so weak…practically limp in his arms.  But there was nothing we could do, Harley…if there was anything in our power that could do, we would have done it.

It was almost 6pm when I got the call that it was over.  Brian was hysterical.  He cried as he told me he did everything he could, but you died in his arms anyway.  He tried to save you.  I did what I always do…I tried to be strong, for him, for my friends.  I tried to assure him that I knew he did all he could, and that you weren’t suffering anymore.  I tried to keep from breaking down too much with my friends.  I reached out to my son, who was there, and has already suffered so much loss.  I called my mom, who cried for us all.

I spent the next day wondering how I was going to break the news that you were gone to the girls.  I knew it would be a big breakdown.  I expected Faith to recover fairly well, but Emily…I knew how she struggled with our cat Church’s death a year and a half ago.  It was weeks before she didn’t cry daily about him.  When I got back in town, Brian and I met at my mom’s and told them.  My heart is still in tatters.  Faith just kept saying that we barely got to have you, and she just wanted to see you one more time, and she never got to take you for a walk.  I’m so sorry I never let them take you for a walk, Harley…I was afraid they wouldn’t be able to hold the leash without letting go.  Emily just sobbed in my arms for nearly an hour.  We tried to explain what parvo was, but they just knew you were gone, and they didn’t want to to be.

I still can’t believe it.  We haven’t broken your crate down.  Your toys are still strewn around on the floor.  Your bag of food is still on the dryer.  Your bowl of water is still in the crate.  Your washed bedding is still in there, too.  Your tennis ball is still in the backyard.  Your treats still sit on the top of the fridge.  I texted Brian in a panic the night you died…I wanted your collar and I was so worried he buried you in it.  But he didn’t, and it and your leash are hanging from the nail by the front door.  The kids and I have been out to the corner of the backyard where you are resting forever now, and we’ve told you how much you meant to us and how we’ll always remember you.  But the void in our home and our hearts is still massive.

When I got home and heard the whole story, and how Christian’s friend Andrew was trying to give you mouth to mouth and Brian was giving you chest compressions, and how hard they fought for you-for all of us, really-I felt like I got punched in the chest.  I knew how much I was hurting…..but I just can’t imagine how they felt.  And then Brian having to bury you for me….that was such an act of love that he did that for us, Harley.  I’ll forever be grateful to him for loving you and caring for you like he did, and this was the first time in a long time that I was able to depend on him, and he followed through.  You gave him the opportunity to be someone I could rely on, and I am thankful to you for that, too.

There have been times I wonder what the point was…for you to come into our lives and for us all to fall in love with you, only to lose you days later.  But I do know what the point was.  The point was that you were loved.  The point was that you didn’t die at that pound, with no one that cared around you.  The point is that you had a home.  The point is that you had a family.  The point is that you will be forever in our hearts and you will not just be another poor stray that got put down.  I’m not sorry at all.  I’m not sorry that I spent $400 on you, Harley, because that money made your last days better.  I’m not sorry at all.

I think in a few months we may try again.  We’ll have to be very careful to make sure the new dog is safe from the disease that you caught before I even met you.  We’ll have to be sure we are ready.  But you showed us how much love we have to give, and we don’t want losing you to make us afraid to love another pup.  That’s not the kind of lesson I want to teach my kids, and I’m certain you would want us to give another pup a loving home in your honor.  I know the kids want that, but I have to say that it will be hard for me.  You were such a good pup that I have a hard time believing I will get lucky enough to get another as sweet and well behaved.  But I will try, for you, and for the girls, and for the new pup.

We miss you, Harley.  Every day.  We cry and hold each other and remember you.  And we thank God that we had you, even if it was for far too short of a time.

**If you’d like to do something in Harley’s honor, please donate to Petluv Spay and Neuter Clinic.  They provide affordable spay and neuter services and preventative treatment such as vaccinations, deworming, heartworm prevention, microchipping, defleaing, and flea prevention meds.  Their services mean more people are able to appropriately care for their pets.  If whomever had Harley before he was picked up by animal services had taken him to Petluv and had him vaccinated, he would likely be alive today, snuggled next to me on this couch, where he belongs.**