So Friday morning was a morning that I knew would come, but I was hoping that it never would. If you know me, then you know that I am often a sentimental fool. I value things like love, friendship, the goodness of others, my family, and strive to keep those I care about as close as possible. I don't always do a good job of showing people (and animals) how much I truly care, I know, but I do care greatly.
Friday morning I made the decision to put Scarlet, my dog/friend/companion/everything and nothing, to sleep forever.
She was sick. There was no getting around that. She'd been going down hill for awhile. I knew it. I saw it. I didn't want to admit it, though, and I waited as long as possible to make that trip to the vet. Maybe I shortened Scarlet's life by doing so. I keep asking myself if I would have been more pro-active in treating her, maybe she could have had some more time with us. These are the thoughts that have been invading my mind in the quiet moments for the past four days. What could I have done to have kept her by my side for a little (or a lot) longer?
I'll never know the answer to those questions, though, and I know I can't continue to ask myself them. The bottom line is that I miss her. I've missed her for a long time. When my four year old daughter was born, we had a very small master bedroom and it was the first time in Scarlet's life that she was not allowed to sleep at the foot of my bed, or the side, or even in my bed. It killed me to allow her to start sleeping in one of the kid's bedrooms, but I don't think she really minded that much. She loved the kids, that's for sure, and I think she got over any jealousy related to Teresa pretty quickly.
For the past 4 years, I have not been the best pet owner. My focus has been on Teresa and Liam, so when it came to the pets, I was not the doting owner I had been during Scarlet's early years. Maybe I have never been the best dog owner. I didn't work very hard to train her, that's for sure, although she was a different dog after Shannon and I got divorced. When we split up in 2004, it was decided that Scarlet would live with me and that Gibby, our other dog, would stay with Shannon.
Scarlet became a very mellow dog when she became the "only" dog. June, my beautiful cat, also came with us, but they really didn't interact very much....but I don't want to start this story off in the end or the middle. I really should start at the beginning.
Shannon and I got Gibby in 1998. We were impulsive, I think, when it came to pets and we thought getting a dog would help our little family grow. Gibby was a spazz, but he was super cute. When we bought our house in Ahwatukee in 1999, we decided that Gibby needed a friend and I had always wanted either a Rottweiler or a German Shepherd. We went to the pound and found Scarlet. She was about 3 months old and she was a Rotti-Black Lab mix. There was a big green E on the door of her cage at the kennel. We learned that this was because she was going to be euthanized due to a possible stomach condition. We ignored that, though, and she seemed to love us. She also didn't seem like she was sick at all, so we adopted her.
We bought her a nice sized kennel and were going to kennel train her so she could sleep in the house with us. One of the first nights we had her, her poor little bowels just exploded. She shit all over the kennel, herself, and all her toys and such in the kennel. This prompted us to take her to the vet. The vet was very concerned about her stomach and bowels. He couldn't quite find anything specifically wrong with her, but he later admitted to us that he didn't think she would survive.
We had to feed Scarlet boiled beef and rice for a long time to get her healthy. Eventually, though, she started getting stronger and stronger and grew into a large, healthy dog. She had a bit of a jumping problem, though, and we were always concerned about how she would socialize with other people and dogs. She knocked over quite a few house guests in the first few years of her life and even nipped a few people. I loved her, though. She was my best gal. If it wasn't for her, I don't know what I would have done.
Things went seriously south for Shannon and I in 2003. We separated in August of that year and Ryan, the dogs, and the cats stayed in the house with me. As we grew closer and closer to our inevitable divorce and decision on who would get the house and such, we had to make the tough decision on how to split the animals. As previously mentioned, you know that Scarlet and June came with and Shannon got Ryan, the house, Gibby, and that bitch, Tinker (a cat who one crawled up on me in bed and pissed on me). Scarlet and I were pretty inseperable at that point.
I moved in with the rebound chick. It was a terrible choice on my part, but it was what it was. Perhaps I will write another blog about that at some point, but I don't want to get too much into it here. The rebound chick did not appreciate my devotion to Scarlet, so it was always a point of contention. In fact, when the rebound chick proved to be a crazy person, she even threatened to let Scarlet out of the house when I wasn't there on several occasions. I truly believe that she would have probably done something to hurt Scarlet if I had pushed her far enough. Anyhow, we only lived with the completely insane Michelle Hernandez (avoid this woman) for 6 months before moving into our own place.
At this point, Scarlet and I were in a great place. We were recovering from our crazy period and just doing our thing. She became a super mellow, sweetheart of a dog. Everybody was amazed at how different she was without Gibby to instigate her into being a spazz. She continued to pretty much be my shadow when I was home and I enjoyed every minute of it. When Rhondi came along, she fell in love with Scarlet too. The kids all loved her and she loved being part of a big family, I am sure. There was always someone to love her.
So.....what can I say about this lovely beast. She was amazing. I loved her with all of my heart. When I put her in the car on Friday, it just about killed me. I had to carry her to the car because she was no longer able to walk on her own. I didn't realize how sick she really was until the vet gave her the first shot, which was a sedative to make the final shot that much easier. When the sedative hit her blood system, she relaxed completely. It was the first time I had seen her so relaxed in a long time. It made me sure that she had been in some pain for awhile.
Her death was quick. I'm not even sure if the second shot was necessary because it seemed like she died before it even happened. It was very peaceful, which was a tremendous blessing. I miss her, but I'm glad she is at peace. When it was over, I carried her to the car and drove home to bury her. It was good to work and sweat in the backyard for a couple of hours. It was good to wrap my brain around the finality of it all. It was good and it was excruciating. If I never have to do that again, it will be too soon. I know I will have to do it again, though. June is 13. Calvin is 5. Bentley is not yet 1. They will all have a little place in the backyard too at some point.
I talked to her dead body the entire time I was digging. I talked to the earth, to nature, and to myself. I asked forgiveness because I felt like I was a coward. I felt disgusted with myself for not doing better by this dog that gave me her heart...who trusted me to take care of her and who loved me unconditionally when no one else was able to. Mostly, though, I talked to her and told her how amazing she was. I thanked her for everything she did for me. I thanked her for the love and for the fellowship. I thanked her for keeping me warm and for protecting me. Just like I thank her now.
I love you, Scarlet. I miss you, my big dog, and won't forget you ever.
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