Grenade is gone

Today was a very hard day for me because I knew that Grenade didn't have much time left. I woke up at 7:30 a.m. to get to the pet hospital before 8:00 a.m. to transfer him to his regular veterinarian's office.

Getting ready was hard because I was so sad and felt like I was in slow motion. Somehow I managed to take a shower, dress Finnegan and arrive at the hospital on time.

When I took Grenade into my arms he was shivering and looking at me with his big brown eyes. His breathing was labored and he was very lethargic. These were signs that I recognized, but did not want to accept, but I had to.

The ride to the pet clinic felt final. I tried desperately to heat the car to keep Grenade warm, but he was still shivering. After a few miles he seemed to settle into a comfortable position for the duration of our travel.

At 8:45 I gently handed him over to the veterinary technician and she carefully carried him to the treatment room. Walter, the office manager told me that the doctors would not be in until after 9:00 a.m. and then they would make a diagnosis. I opted to take Finnegan to eat breakfast at Shari's Restaurant to ease my hunger and give me something to occupy my time.

Finnegan was very happy to drink some milk, eat same waffles with strawberries and I ate eggs, hashbrowns and bacon. Then I finished Finnegan's waffles. I didn't have the motivation to eat, but I was so hungry. It did make a difference, decisions are best made on a full stomach.

At 9:30 we arrived at the pet clinic and we consulted with Dr. Hanson and I told her that I did not want to take any drastic measures to prolong Grenade's life, but that his comfort was the most important thing. I also told her that I would depend on her to tell me what was best for him, even if it was a hard decision to make.

She said they would do what they could for him and she would keep me posted throughout the day. So, Finnegan and I went to the studio.

At the studio I was pretty much worthless. My mind was so preoccupied with Grenade that I could hardly complete any tasks let alone photograph people. Rachele was very kind to me because she had lost two dogs three years ago and she still misses them.

Watching Finnegan play and tear around the studio was a good distraction for me and his little cherub face lifts my unhappy heart. A child's love is like feeling the sun's rays on your back on a cold winter day.

At 2:17 Dr. Hanson called me and told me that I needed to come to the clinic right away because she wasn't sure that Grenade would make it through the afternoon. I immediately grabbed Finnegan and left the studio hoping to drive the 18 miles fast enough without speeding to be by Grenade's side. I tried not to cry on the way, but it was hard not to. Fortunately, traffic was light and I made it in 30 minutes. A clinic technician walked me to the back room and that's where I saw Dr. DeWees sitting by Grenade's side petting his head.

As I put my sleeping baby into a nice warm corner of the room I was so thankful I could devote my time to Grenade. It was so sad to see him in a cage with an oxygen mask on his face. When he heard my voice he opened his eyes and looked at me. He was in a lot of pain and he even tried to get up to get closer to me. I desperately wanted to cradle him in my arms, but it just wasn't possible. So, I talked to him and let him know that he was a good dog and that I loved him. I thanked him for giving me so much joy in my life and told him that he wouldn't have to suffer any more. I know he didn't understand what I was saying, but at least he heard my voice.

After about 15 minutes of consoling him, I asked the doctor if it was time and he nodded. I looked at the clock and it was 3:13 p.m. and thought that it was ironic that Doug had been to our engagement spot earlier in the day, where we were engage at 3:13 in the afternoon. A beginning and an end.

Grenade was moved to the operating table wrapped in his warm blankets and then they gave him an injection. I kept talking to him and looking into his eyes. I knew the instant he was gone and like that it was over. I cried for several minutes and continued to pet Grenade and realized that it was time take him home. The finality of the past couple of days had finally hit me and even though I was very sad, life had to go on.

Dr. DeWees bundled Grenade up and gingerly placed him into a box and sealed the top with a piece of tape. How strange it seemed to me that a life can be put into a box. I thought of all the funerals I've attended and how I wondered the same thing. This time there would be no funeral, no eulogy, no flowers and no announcements in the paper because Grenade was a dog. Eventhough he was important to me, his passing would not be marked with great fanfare only the quiet reverance of a grateful owner.

We then walked out to the car, me carrying Finnegan who was fast asleep and Dr. DeWees carrying Grenade. After getting everyone settled into the car, Grenade's primary care Vet. Dr. Hanson came out to give me a hug and offered her condolences. I hadn't realized until then that she was married to Dr. DeWees and he gave me a hug too. They were so nice to me. I really needed it at that time.

It's hard to let go of a beloved pet, but he was in my life for a reason. He was there for me when my grandfather died, when Doug and I had broken up in 1997. He was my companion, so that I didn't have to live alone. He was with us when we renewed our marriage vows and he was a source of comfort during the infertility years. For such a small creature he was my constant companion and I will be forever grateful that he was in our lives.

At times like these we may forget that he used to pee on the floor all the time, had really bad breath, and barked often, but then we aren't all perfect. I think he taught me that not all of us are perfect and that we can still love someone who has a few issues that we don't like. I guess the greatest gift that he gave to me was unconditional love. I will miss seeing his little clown face greeting me at the door and his little spins for treats and I'll miss petting him and feeling his warmth on my lap.

Doug told me a few years ago, "Grenade is not human." This is true, but in his own way he helped me be a better person by caring for him.