Pretty Girl

It pains my heart that I almost forgot how to log into this blog. Almost. My son found this and started reading it. He is now fifteen, soon to be sixteen in a few months. We laughed over a few posts. It's amazing the things I've forgotten over time, so it's great to be able to have a "virtual memory", so to speak. 

This time, I come with a heavy heart. My family is my world and it always has been. I've written about my son and husband. I've written about my mother and brother, as well as my dogs. And the latter is the reason for my return. I just lost my Sasha. In a desperate attempt to find pictures of her, I came here. Sure enough, my posts included pictures we'd lost through the years. I'm so grateful for this blog for that reason. 

I know I've written about Sasha before, but I cannot express into words just how important she became to our lives. I know she's just a dog. I am not trying to make her out to be anything more profound than that. But she was OUR dog. We got her when my son had just turned five. Those two grew up together. She had her own personality that was so darn unique, no other dog will ever be like her. And I put work into her. So much work. I remember the vet telling me when she was just a puppy, that she would grow to be huge. I made it a point to train her, so that I'd be able to control her. 

I was the one that took her out in the middle of winter to stand by while she pottied, because she was too afraid to go alone. I was the one that collected the stool samples to give to the vet for check ups. I was the one that administered the salve to her ear, when she'd gotten a cut that one summer. And most recently, I was the one to wear the rubber gloves to clean up her butt, which had gotten a little matted. Don't get me wrong, my husband put in just as much work. He definitely was her master. She and I, we had more a quiet bond. Like sort of a "can-you-believe-this-guy" bond that only two females can have. I could read her like a book. I knew what she was thinking. I knew every whimper, every bark, every growl. I knew what they all meant. I even had her trained to where I could ask her "yes" or "no" questions to find out what she needed. She would shake her head correspondingly, depending on what I'd ask. (Although, there were only three main questions: Do you want water? Food? Outside?)

I had her down to a tee. Except for this last month. Apparently, she had a pretty bad internal infection. I had no idea. She never whined. Never let me know she was hurting. She kept her tail high and wagging. She still wrestled with my son. She still annoyed Angel, as only she could do. I just didn't know she was sick, until it was too late. 

I've had lots of dogs in my lifetime. Every single one, I had to give up for some reason or another. My step-dad was allergic, the place we were living was too small, etc. But with Sasha, I got to keep her. She's the first one that has run their course with me. Side by side. All the way to the end. So, I've never had to go through the experience of putting a pet down before. My first instinct was save her, save, save save! But listening to the vet, I realized how much she was suffering. Those last days, the days where I discovered something was not right, those are the hardest days. She wasn't eating. She couldn't move her back legs. She tried, but ended up resembling a walrus, because those legs just would not move right. It is the most sickening feeling to not be able to do anything for her. 

What really gets me is that I never really understood how much I depended on her. I still sit on the back steps and think she'll come up behind me to rest her head on my shoulder. I still walk past her sleeping spot and expect her to reach out her paw and wrap it around my leg for a hug. I can't hear very well, so she was the one that let me know someone was at the door. I can no longer forget to lock the back door, because I don't have her guarding it for me. When my son was home alone, I never worried. Sasha was there. No one could hurt him. She would protect him. All that work I'd put into Sasha... I  never realized how much work she put into me. 

She was truly one of a kind. I will never find another like her.