COLUMN: Losing my best friend
My family and I would like to extend our thanks to all of those at the Bridgerland Cache Animal Hospital for all that they have done for us and for Belle. They have always been kind and considerate with our animals and all the ones that they treat.
Looking into her chestnut brown eyes I knew she was slowly slipping away from me. I sat there helpless. All I could do was reassure her she was a good girl and I was helping her the only way that I could.
Losing an animal is hard, and no matter how much you anticipate, it still hits you like a Mac Dump Truck going 80 mph. Tuesday, Oct. 12, 2004, was a very sad day for my family and myself as we had to put our family member of nine years to sleep.
Our lovable Yellow Labrador Retriever named Belle had suffered from kidney failure sometime over the weekend or in the previous days. She was in pain but wouldn’t show that to us, she was strong. She started to get sick, not eating, not drinking her water and not doing her favorite thing in the world: playing with the tennis ball.
She was brought into the Bridgerland Cache Animal Hospital and was treated as always, like the princess she was. Dr. Tania Stewart, who had been working with Belle for a while, made her as comfortable as she could. Dr. Stewart is a caring individual – always being patient with Belle, as she didn’t enjoy being in a veterinary clinic very much.
The news that I was dreading came back. Belle was sick – really, really sick. Dr. Stewart informed us there wasn’t anything that could be done to treat the failure of her kidneys. Belle was in pain and the only way to ease this pain would be to allow her to pass.
I didn’t want to have Belle leave me right then. She needed to spend one more night at home with her family who cared and loved her so much. My mother and I brought her home and she seemed to be happy, but that was Belle, always happy. She went into the house and went to her favorite spot – my bed. I convinced her to come outside with me to the backyard. We went out there and I sat down under one of the trees and talked to Belle. I let her know that we all loved her and that she was the best dog anyone could ever ask for.
My father came out and sat and talked to her as well. We just sat there with her, making her feel comfortable and reassuring her of our love. Belle got up and walked around the yard and then followed my dad up the stairs on the deck into the house. I don’t know how long I sat under the tree, but it felt like hours.
Making my way into the house, I found Belle lying at the foot of my dad’s dark brown leather chair. I sat down in the matching chair next to it and just sat there. Neither my dad nor I said a word, we just listened to the slow methodical breathing of or cherished dog.
She slept on my bed Monday night – something she normally did – but it was different. She was there the whole night. I woke up about every 20 minutes to check on her and talk to her. Her eyes would open and I knew she was sliding past me and I just had to make sure she was comfortable. I awoke about two hours earlier than I normally do and just lay there in bed with Belle by my side.
She came upstairs with me and she sat under the kitchen table like it was a normal day. We sat there petting Belle and talking to here, savoring every last moment we had with her. I asked her if she wanted to go for a ride and she perked up slightly. This was one of her pleasures in life, going for a car ride, lying down in the backseat of my car, and just enjoying the ride.
The last few days she slowed down and didn’t run and play and bark like she used to. I got her motivated to get into the car and took her outside into the backyard one last time. I sat there looking at her as she slowly walked around the yard. My mind flashed back to all the times I mowed the lawn and had her trailing along, inspecting my work.
We walked through the garage and out into the front yard and she stopped and looked at me for a second and then sniffed in my direction, as if making sure she knew it was me. We walked toward the front door and she sat down on the porch. I sat down next to her and waited for my parents.
Arriving at the vet, Belle got out of the car and walked very lethargically on her leash to the door. My dad opened the door and we all walked in. My mom was inside waiting talking with the nurse at the front desk. We walked into the patient room with the bright lime green exam table and said our good-byes to our family member.
John Zsiray is the photo editor at the Utah Statesman and a senior majoring in journalism. Comments can be sent to jsziray@cc.usu.edu.