After my father died, Baby grew old too, he’d followed me as I switched places to live in; he accompanied by my side, as I’d faced this life alone, and I too, guarded him as well…………
My friend gave me a mixed Llasa, and, with absolutely NO prior experiences as a pet owner, I’d kept him for a total of nineteen years. Before he died, he’d, taught me, a most important lesson on life.
Fighting Off Old Age with Baby
I’m usually very forceful, and didn’t want to get help over anything from anybody, my Llasa “Baby” seemed to have, “inherited” my temperament too, he’d loved adventures, always fought hard, to cross the trials in front of him; I’d hiked with him through many mountains and many woods, he’d accompanied me through the many hardships of life too. Especially during the time of over a decade when my father became paralyzed, my family and my marriage was hit hard by the storms, and I’d had to, shoulder up the responsibilities, feeling the strains, both physically and mentally too. And, maybe, Baby saw it all, and would always stay close to me to accompany, he’d not said a word, just kept close to me, and that, was enough. Recalling those days, he was, my sole source of happiness.
After my father passed, Baby grew old too, he’d accompanied me as I moved from resident to resident; toward a future alone, he’d needed to stay close to me, and I’d, kept guarded over him too. After work, I’d slung the twenty-four pounds worth of him across my waist, and kept his legs tight, carried him down stairs, he’d walked very slowly now, I, took my stroll along his side, after we’d walked around the park, I’d carried him on my back, then, step, by step, climbed back up the five stories. He usually slept with me, later, he couldn’t even jump onto bed anymore. I’d not wanted him to suffer the illnesses of old age, and still felt betrayed by me, and, although he couldn’t defecate or urinate on his own anymore, and would defecate all over the places, I’d never blamed him for it, I’d still, carried him onto my bed.
Taking care of an aging dog is exactly like taking care of the elderly, I’d once taken care of my father who’d completely paralyzed, and felt how awful it was, being tortured by the slow decline of death. And still, for the sake of my own living, I’d needed to work late at the office, and finally as I’d come home, I’d opened up the door, and searched for Baby, and, I saw, a stack of poop all the way from the bedroom into the living room. I knew, he was, trying to go outside to poop, but as he’d worked his anus hard, his legs became limp, he’d fallen to the floor, and it would be, even harder for him, to get his body up, and so, he could only, dragged his butt to the living room, until he’s completely spent, and limp, as he’d waited in the living room for me to come home.
He’d looked upon me with that pitiful look, like he’d done some sort of huge injustice toward me, I’d gently carried him up, bathed him in hot water, then, carried him to bed, tucked him in. Then, it’s, my major clean up job, I’d scrubbed the floors hard, and, the time passed by quick, and it was, one in the morn. But, as I got into bed, my ears are still, with their heightened sense of awareness, whenever he’d flipped over, I’d waken up in shock; sometimes, before I got to him, there are, feces and urine on my bed, and so, I can only, scrubbed the material up, rolled up my sheets, throw it into the wash, and, waited until the washer stopped, hung my sheets out to dry. In one night, this same routine continued, for three, four times, until I headed out to work in the morn, I may still be cleaning up.
a Llasa mix, from the web…
Actually, in order to prevent him tripping because his legs grew weak, I’d bought shoes for him, but he’s not used to wearing them, and would slip and fall whenever he walks around with them; I’d, diapered him, he’d become catatonic, refused to lay down sleep. Toward all the assortment of maladaptations, I’d not wanted to force him to do anything, and just, allowed him to live out the rest of his life, using the way he’s most comfortable in.
Watching Him Get Older & Weak, Holding onto Him Tight
We’d still gone out for our routine walks every single day, of course, I was considering his health status, but, seeing how much hardship he was having, getting up, and getting ready for his walk, I couldn’t help but wonder, that he was walking, for my sakes. After we’d circled around the neighborhood, we’d sat together in the yard, getting some sun, he’d become limp on my chest, I’d talked to him gently, massaged his body, and stayed in the most intimate, warmest place for us in the world. It’s just, that he’d become, weakened by the days, one day, as he’d walked out into the yard, he’d become, catatonic, and just couldn’t take a step forward, at that moment, I was so shocked, just carried him up in my arms, and, watched the sun, still, falling onto his white coat…………
Finally the day came. I’d arrived home from work, as usual, he was, lying in feces and urine, but this time, as I’d tried to get him up, his feet became limp, he could no longer stand. The vet said he was too elderly, that his heart is failing, that the blood couldn’t get to his hind legs, that, was why he couldn’t stand. I knew, that there was something that the doctor didn’t state to me, and so, I can only, take him home with me again, used the glucose drips to keep him alive. I’d held tight to his hand, lying next to him, gazed, deeply into his eyes, and, his pupils, reflected my face too. And, as I’d fallen asleep, and let go of his paw, he’d started moaning and groaning, until I’d held his hands again. Every time I opened my eyes, I could see his brown pupil, and he’d, stayed awake the entire night, watching over me.
Two days later, he was gone, at the moment that he’d died, I’d blamed myself hard, although I’d looked after him, but as I worked during the day time, why did I not get someone to help me watch him? Because of how headstrong I was, not asking for assistance, that, is what caused him to live on in torture for two years………
not my photo…
“You don’t need to carry it all yourself.” That, was the very final lesson he’d taught me, with his dying life, and, it was also a final gift from him. I’d feared that as I’d come home, I will be faced with this huge empty house, and feel so depressed, I’d told my family, ask them to come stay with me, until my heart’s fixed and ready for the life alone.
Actually, everything dies, no matter what, we’d make it through, the problem is, are you going to, spend your times in pain alone on your own, or, would you rather, have others to help you through the process, so your wounds can heal with time?
Because of this gift that Baby left for me, it’d made my days easier. And now, there’s another dog that I’m with in the local parks, his name is also “Baby” too, we’d run happily through hill after hill. I’d never thought, or imagined, that this full a love can, be continued.
So, losing your dog was difficult, especially toward the end, when he’d gotten so very sick, and, you’d had to worry about him when you’re not at home, and, you’d lost your beloved pet, but he’s not just a pet, but a great companion that’s helped you through the hard times of your life, and now, you’re finally able to let go of the loss of your beloved pet, and have another pet that will fulfill the role of the companionship that you’d needed.