Burying a friend, Lucy the Cocker Spaniel

    Last week my little black Cocker Spaniel, Lucy turned 15. On Saturday morning she died in her bed.
   
    I kept a bed for her on the floor next to the side of the bed where my wife and I sleep. For as long as we have lived in Trexlertown, she has followed me in to bed at night and slept in her place. Whenever I rose frome bed, the vibration of me walking by her would wake her, and she would follow me throughout the house.
    We called her my little black shadow for that reason. She would  follow me to the garage whenever I left, and be there waiting at the kitchen door when I returned.
     On Thursday I was working in the yard, and she was in high spirits, even running along the sidewalk when I threw a tennis ball for or other dog, Sally. I was trying to weed the flower beds, and she kept nudging me with her nose, begging me to pet her. I could never resist her happy eyes, and her tail wagged like the perpetual motion machine it always was.
  
      I knew the day would come eventually but I still was not ready for it. When I looked down and realized she was not breathing or getting up to go outside, I went numb. I still had to go to work, so I picked her up in her bed and carried her to the garage. I wrapped her up to secure her body until I came home from work. Then I would have time to dig a grave out back next to where we buried Ethel less than two years ago.
     All day Saturday my thoughts went back to all the happy moments Lucy had brought me in her years with our family. Lucy had a habit of creating circular formations on the sidewalk with her crap. Creations that we referred to as "Poophenge," because of the similarity to the British landmark Stonehenge.

     She was an accomplished beggar for treats, having mastered the pitiful face that would have you believe that she was starving to death. A few years back, in response to her chubbiness, our vet had tested her for metabolism issues. The phone call to my wife with the diagnosis still makes us laugh today. "No Mrs. Casey. Lucy does not have a thyroid problem, she's just fat."    

     What I miss the most is her company. Whenever I sat down at the computer, she would lay in the bed beside my chair, and wait for my hand to drop and stroke her head and belly. She would wait patiently for those few affectionate touches, and I would be rewarded with a thankful lick or two.

      Putting her down in her grave was hard, and I cried throughout the entire process, from digging to  filling it in. I comfort myself thinking that she is running around heaven frolicking with her old friends Fred and Ethel. Her age had taken away much of her mobility, I want to believe that in God's heaven it has been restored as her reward for being such a loving and faithful creature. That's what I want to believe, and that is what gives me comfort.

The Murphy's Law of Housecleaning if you own dogs

I am like most people, I have weekends off from work, and that is when I do my share of housecleaning.
  If you have dogs, you know there is a bit more effort involved.

  We had a few inches of snow Friday Morning, and that meant our two Spaniels, Lucy and Sally would get their feet wet. That's no big deal, we have a tile floor in our foyer, and it's no big deal to contain them and wipe them down when they come back in, so they don't track wet puppy paw prints all over the house.

    Unless of course, you are me.

     Sometimes I bring absentmindedness to a whole new level. Saturday Morning I put them out and started mopping all the floors in the common areas. When I finished, I used an old towel to wipe them down, giving them a nice, clean, and shiny look.

    Then I went to let the dogs back in. Silly me, I forgot to put up the dog gate keeping them in the foyer before I opened the door.
     Damned if little 14 year old Lucy didn't trot on by and proceed to inspect every foot of the hallway, kitchen, and washroom that I had mopped while I tried to dry off Sally. It would be pointless to yell at Lucy, first, because she is deaf as a board, and second, I doubt she would understand what I was saying anyway.

    So I ended up closing them in the TV room for a few minutes while I did the cleaning all over again.

    The dog gate has wide slats that allow them to watch me, much like jailed prisoners watching a trustee mop the cell block.  Their eyes were wide, and literally bled with tears for me to take pity on them and let them help. I'm not that gullible. I do the same when I wash the bedsheets. Ever try to change bed linens with a dog that wants to help by jumping on the bed? I wouldn't advise it.

      Murphy's Law says that what can go wrong will go wrong. I would like to offer an addendum to that. Having a dog doubles the chances of things going wrong, but also quadruples the odds that you will laugh about it. And that is a Law I believe most of us can live with.

Does my dog Lucy have a "Bucket List?" She does now!

   Everytime I log onto the social networking site of Facebook, I am greeted with an advertisement for the "Allentown Bucket List." even though I live in Trexlertown. Last weekend, while I was visiting Brown University in Providence Rhode Island, when I logged on I was entreated with a "Providence Bucket List."
    I found it fascinating how that changed by location, I know why, but that is for another blog entry on another day.

     What's bothering me today is that Lucy, my little Black shadow of a Cocker Spaniel, appears to be nearing the end of her life. She will be 14 in October, or about Betty White's age in human years. Dogs can't tell us directly if they are suffering, but her tail constantly wags and she still has moments where she will grab her toy and want me to play with her.
    But the seizures are becoming more frequent. I pick her up and hold her until they pass, and then she acts as if nothing happened, before she lays down and sleeps for awhile.

   I know what's coming, but in the meantime, I have made a Bucket List for her:
       1. Let her sleep on the end of the Bed

       2. Let her ride in the car with me to the bank, so she can get the free dog treat from the Window teller.

       3. Stop at McDonalds/Burger King/Wendys and get her a plain Hamburger on each ride. It's not like it will kill her, right?

       4. She doesn't leave the yard as long as I am in it (Never has, really), so I took off her Invisible fence collar so she doesn't get zapped unnecessarily. I figure at her age, she probably has enough pain, why give her more?

       5. Make sure that her bed is within arms reach of me when I am working on the Computer. Lucy is truly my shadow, she follows me everywhere when I am home, and lays as close to me as possible. We recently purchased a separate, extra dog bed that is next to my chair so I can reach down and scratch her head when I am working. She laid there anyway, so we figured she might as well be comfortable.

     I don't know what five things Lucy would want to do before she goes to the great puppy playtime in heaven, but these are the five I have to offer. Any Suggestions? What would you do for your "Shadow?"