Good-bye Sweet Boy

Seventeen and one half years ago, Gordie and I went to a Jack Russell Terrier breeder to “just look.”  The breeder had two different litters available   The breeder first showed us the 15 week old litter.  They were hilarious.  They came spilling out of a barn door and were ready to play.  Gordie immediately connected with one of the female puppies.  She had a great level of energy and she could not stop licking Gordie’s cheek.

“Can we see the eight week old litter?”, I asked.

“Sure”, the breeder replied, “they are over here.”

We walked to another barn and just outside were three tiny puppies.  They were kind of sitting in a line.  I looked at each puppy.  There was one with a perfectly etched brown mask on his face.  He was adorable.

“That one”, I told Gordie, pointing at the brown masked puppy.  “Can you pick up that one?”

Gordie stepped toward the three puppies.  A look of fear crossed the little masked puppy’s face and he took a step back, trying to avoid Gordie’s grasp.

Gordie paused and said “he’s lame Stace”.

“Please pick him up”, I replied.

Gordie managed to get the little brown masked puppy and hand him to me.  He was tiny.  His entire body was white except his ears, the perfect mask on his face, and a little brown spot near his tush.

It was love at first sight for me.  I cuddled him and breathed in that wonderful puppy smell.

“I want him”, I said.

An hour later, we were driving home with our new puppy, the little brown masked one.  So much for “just looking”.

Gordie named him Ralphie in honor of his favorite Christmas move, “The Christmas Story”.

I held Ralphie in my lap during the hour drive back to our house.  The breeder had given Ralphie his worm medicine just before we left.  Ralphie threw up on me on the way home…there were worms in the vomit.  I did not care.  I was already in love with this puppy.

Two days ago, 17.5 years later, I held Ralphie as he took his last breath.

After we got Ralphie, he quickly became Gordie’s dog.  Ralphie loved me but not as much as he loved Gordie.  Despite Gordie’s initial claim that Ralphie was “lame”, Ralphie became, as they say, man’s best friend.  He followed Gordie everywhere.  He was Gordie’s main passenger in the passenger seat of Gordie’s truck.  Everyone who knew Gordie expected to see Ralphie looking out the window when Gordie drove by.

Ralphie was our world because we did not yet have kids.  In fact, we got Ralphie before we were even married.  Every night after work, we took Ralphie for a long walk and talked about our days, even when it was snowing like hell.  On weekends we took Ralphie hiking or to the dog park or on weekend trips.  Ralphie went everywhere possible with us.  He even stayed in Aspen’s Hotel Jerome, fitting for our Little Prince.

The Little Prince slept with us too.  I will never forget how that happened.  It was Thanksgiving weekend, about a month after we got Ralphie.  Gordie and I were sitting in bed watching a show and Ralphie was trying to climb up on to our bed.

I looked down and said “Ralphie wants to get onto the bed.”

“No.  Put him in his crate”, Gordie said.

Ralphie continued to try to crawl up.

“He’s so cute Gordie.  It’s so cold tonight.  Let’s just let him sleep with us this one time”, I said, already leaning over to pick up Ralphie.

“Once he gets in, he’s never getting out,” Gordie muttered.

Gordie was right.  Ralphie slept on the bed every night until two years ago when he had a stroke which left him with vertigo and the height was too disorienting for him.

Ralphie’s life changed when Nathan was born in 2005 and again when Wyatt was born in 2010 but he still lived a life that most dogs would envy.  Except maybe the ear pulling and tail pulling that comes with toddler boys.

Ralphie’s life changed again in 2012 when Gordie died.  Ralphie was outside with Gordie that day in March when Gordie somehow fell into the pool.  My belief is that Ralphe is the only one who knows what really happened.  In the days following Gordie’s death, I would look Ralphie in the eyes and beg “tell me what happened Ralphie”.

For months after Gordie died, Ralphie wandered around my parents’ house peeking into rooms.  I knew who he was looking for.  I would take him to the Estate with me when I was there getting more stuff, packing things, or just trying to be close to Gordie.  Ralphie would jump out of my car, race into the house, and run from room to room looking for Gordie. It broke my heart that I could not explain to him that Gordie was gone.

Finally one day he just gave up looking.

From March 2012 until two days ago, Ralphie became my dog.  He loved me unconditionally and I think he felt it was his job to get me back on my feet.  He would remain still for hours as I sobbed into his fur after the boys went to bed.  He would lie on my bed as I worked late into the night either closing out Gordie’s life or trying to catch up at Clorox.  When we moved into our house eight months after Gordie died, he stayed up with me every night until I went to bed.

In 2014, a tumor was found in Ralphie’s neck.  He was almost 14 years old.  I had to decide whether or not to have it removed surgically.  But there was no decision for me.  Of course I was going to have it removed.  So many people thought I was crazy.  It was an expensive surgery and he was an old dog.  I did not care.  I would have done anything to prolong his life.

After the surgery, the lab results showed that the tumor was cancerous.

“He would probably have died soon had you not removed the tumor” the Vet said.  I cried in relief.

In 2015, Ralphie suffered a stroke and it significantly changed him.  He was left with vertigo.  He spent a few days in the Animal hospital and he was a little better when he came home but he was changed.  He could not jump up anymore, he had trouble walking a straight line, and he did not bark anymore.

“Is he suffering?” I asked the Vet.  “Is it time?”  I whispered.

The answer was not yet.  Ralphie would have to learn how to adjust to his new life but he did not seem to be in any pain.

Since then, Ralphie deteriorated a little bit every year.  We managed things with medication.  We adjusted our lives, his activities, and our home to try to make things easier for him.

Often, when the boys were asleep, the house was quiet, and it was just Ralphie and me, I would hold him in my lap, bury my face in his fur and whisper to him “give me a sign when it’s time.  I don’t want you to stay here just for me if you are suffering.”

Ralphie kept going.

Last November, 2017, I made an appointment to put him to sleep.  I felt that I was getting a sign from somewhere.  But then he seemed to perk up and I cancelled the appointment.  Ralphie was with us for another Christmas.  It was the best gift the boys and I received.

But this month (March 2018), things changed.  Four nights ago, I watched him and my heart sank.  He looked like he did not want to be here anymore.  He looked like he was in pain.  He looked like his vision was completely gone.  He was pacing and circling.  He looked unhappy and agitated.  I called the Vet and made an appointment for her to check him out the next day.  That night we made tri –tip, Ralphie’s favorite meal…just in case.

I took him to the Vet the next day…just 3 days ago.  She gave me all my options.

I finally asked “is it time?”

Her eyes filled with tears and she said “I think it is”.

I whispered through my tears “I think so too.”

We were leaving for Hawaii in three days.  I needed to do it before I left.  I did not want him to suffer more or have something awful happen while we were away.  But I needed one more night with him.

When the boys came home from school on Wednesday I sat them down and explained that it was time.  I had talked to them the night before and I had been preparing them for this for years.

“When is he going to sleep?” Wyatt, my 8-year old son asked.

“Tomorrow.  I made an appointment for tomorrow”, I replied.

Tears started rolling down Wyatt’s face.  Wyatt loved Ralphie, more so than Nathan.  Ralphie had become Wyatt’s best friend, just like Ralphie had been Gordie’s best friend.  Gordie’s little mini-me was the dog lover that he had been.

For our last night together, I took Ralphie to Wyatt’s baseball game.  Ralphie did not leave the house very often and I wanted him to have a last evening out, an evening like he had when he was younger.  I sat on my portable chair with Ralphie in my lap watching Wyatt play baseball.  Kids ran up and petted him all evening. He always got so much attention when he was out.  Adults were surprised when they asked how old he was and I said 17.5 years old.  I did not mention that it was his last night here on Earth.  I was barely holding it together.

That night, Wyatt, Nathan and I petted and kissed Ralphie a thousand times.  When the boys went to bed, I sat and held Ralphie for a long time.  His breathing was labored.  I wondered how long it had been like that.

“I love you Sweet Boy” I whispered over and over.

I lay in my bed that night and listened to Ralphie breathing as he slept in his bed that had been at the foot of my bed for years.  He had slept in that same place ever since his stroke.  For years the sound of his breathing from below my bed had been such a huge sense of comfort to me.  This would be the last night I would hear that.  I cried myself to sleep.

The next morning, Ralphie’s final day on Earth, I got out of bed at 4am and picked up Ralphie.  I brought him to my bed and laid down next to him.  I curled myself around his little body and whispered to him.  I told him thank you for staying with me for so long, for taking care of me after Gordie died, for helping the boys survive the death of their Dad, for loving us unconditionally.  I apologized to him for not being able to take care of him like he deserved after becoming a Solo Mom.  I apologized if I had waited too long to let him go.  His head was soaking wet from my tears but he just laid there.

At 6:30am, I woke Wyatt up, who was sleeping in my bed, and had him come around to my side and take my place next to Ralphie.  He cuddled his dog for the last time.  I took my shower so they could have some privacy.

Before we left for school, the boys went into my room to say goodbye to Ralphie.  He was sleeping in his bed.  I joined them and we prayed over Ralphie.  Both boys were crying as we walked out to the car.

Unfortunately I had a big meeting Thursday morning and had to go into my office.  If there is one thing that I have mastered, it’s hiding my feelings.  I got through the meeting without any trouble and headed home.  I had one hour left with Ralphie before the In Home Euthanasia Vet was to arrive.

I went home and my Chapter Two was there.  He had texted me earlier to see if he could be there.  I had been planning to do this on my own but I said yes.  He gave Ralphie and I privacy as I took Ralphie into my bed and again, curled around his body.  I cried and talked to him again.

At 1pm, the In-Home Vet arrived.  I watched her car drive into my driveway and nearly vomited.

I am not going to write about the process of putting Ralphie to sleep.  All I will say is that I was not prepared for how horrible or traumatic it would be.  The In-Home Vet was wonderful and compassionate.  She explained everything before it happened and gave me the power to say when.  But it was still awful.

During the process, I once again prayed out loud, gave Ralphie a kiss, and whispered “Good-bye Sweet Boy.  I love you so much.  Say hi to Daddy.”

When the Vet told me that Ralphie had taken his last breath, I gulped a big sob and looked out the window to the sky.

I swear I heard Gordie whisper “I’ve got him Stace”.

When the Vet left with my Sweet Boy in a little dog bed in her car, I collapsed into Chapter Two’s arms.  It was the second worse day of my life.

That was two days ago.  I miss my Sweet Boy.  I have not moved his bed yet and I probably won’t for a while.  I keep looking at it expecting to see him sleeping in it.  I keep listening for the little click, click, click of his toenails on my hardwood floors.  I keep looking outside hoping to see him walking across my patio.  I spent the last two sleepless nights trying to imagine the sound of his soft breathing.

I feel like I have been catapulted back into grief.  Although, I never really left it.  Losing Ralphie is like losing another piece of Gordie. It’s like losing the last piece of my life before kids.  It was just Gordie, Ralphie, and me in Colorado for five years before we had kids.  Now both of them are gone.

I know I made the right decision.  Ralphie hung on longer than he should have and he did it for me.  I truly believe he would not leave until he knew that the boys and I would be OK.  It was his job.  It was his purpose.  But in the last two weeks he must have felt that the boys and I are OK now.  He was ready to go and I loved him too much to ask for more.  He already gave me more than he should have.  So, I take comfort that he is now free of pain, able to see, able to hear, and able to run again like a Jack Russell Terrier should.

I also take extreme comfort that Gordie and Ralphie, best of friends, are together again and that they will both be waiting for me at Heaven’s gate when my time comes.

“I’ve got him Stace”.

Take good care of him Gordie.  He took great care of us.