What happened? This year was supposed to be a good one. It hasn't gotten off to a good start. A week ago I was trying my hardest to be optimistic, but I knew I was going to lose my best friend forever.
I came home from work on Monday night and got hit by a wave of Mother's intuition. Yes, he may have just been a dog (to you) but to me he was my world. He was my child. He was my constant. He adored me, he relied on me, he made my days brighter. On Monday, immediately, I knew something was very wrong. I burst into tears and rushed him to the vet. Talked to the tech and was told to trust my intuition, but to also keep a level head and keep an eye out. This is the part that hurts me because I'll never know if a day or two would have made a difference. My heart hurts but my mind knows that by this point, his body was shutting down. Didn't do any tests. Took him home to cuddle and keep an eye on him. I got home Tuesday night and Pedro was ok, but extra snuggly. He had thrown up earlier in the day so we thought that that was what was going on and he was better. Then he threw up all night.
Fast forward 24 hours, my little love, my little guy, was diagnosed with kidney failure. My whole world collapsed around me. We handed him over to the vets and I know they did all they could. Lisa and I went to visit him Thursday night and Friday morning when I came to see him he was sitting up and looking really good. I had a momentary sigh of relief thinking he'd come home and we'd have to change our lives to keep him on a new diet but knowing that I'd do anything to have more time with him.
Then the vet came in. Pedro's levels had not changed, they had gotten worse. The minute the words came out I knew what was happening and I couldn't hear anymore. I knew my sister was on her way and I'd have to tell her. I knew I had just gotten off the phone with my mom, and gotten her hopes up in the way mine had been 2 minutes before. I knew the warm little body I was cradling in my arms was dying.
We got Pedro from my grandmother. It was March 11, 2005. We had less than 6 years with our guy. But they were priceless, amazing years. When I moved to Colorado in 2007 my friends teased me saying Pedro was going to forget me. I came to visit for Thanksgiving and when I saw him, I started crying immediately and he started whimpering and peed on me he was so excited. He followed me everywhere I went, whichever room of the house I was in. If I was in the laundry room, he'd run up and down the stairs confused. My mom called him chicle (which is gum in spanish). When my parents renovated, they put in a door with a window panel in the center. Pedro would stand in the window to greet anyone coming home.
Pedro loved to sunbathe in the yard. He had one eye that looked like it had eyeliner and another that looked like pinkeye. He loved noodles and cheese. He loved chapstick. He wore hoodies and had the sweetest smile. He loved car rides. He would stand up and smell the world flying by. He would nap on his back with his legs sticking almost straight up. He used to jump so high. Sometimes he was so excited when we got home he'd run around in circles. He'd run through the house, jumping on the couch, over anyone who was sitting on the floor. He slept in my bed. He slept like a little person, under the covers with his head on the pillow. He always wanted to be in whatever room I was in. He'd come in the bathroom with me while I showered, laying on my towels warming them for me. If I wasn't home late at night, he'd pace on the stairs waiting for me. He'd sleep on the couch with me for hours. Any time I closed my laptop he'd immediately snap at attention and jump up, knowing we were either going upstairs or going to sleep and it was time for cuddles. Sometimes I'd wake up and he would just be staring at me, as if to say "Time to get up now? Can we?" He was so smart. I would have given anything to know what he was thinking.
He came home on Friday to say goodbye. He slept throughout the day but around 10pm his meds wore off and his spirit peeked out. He jumped up (on an IV, mind you) and jumped off the couch. We took him outside and he peed in his usual spots and then just stood there, looking around. The way he was looking around, I knew he understood this was his last night in his yard, in his home. He looked around at his space, at his things and took it all in. I knew he was saying goodbye. His little mind was so strong. His heart was so big.
As hard as it was to let go of him, we knew we had to do it, for him. The last thing I wanted was for him to suffer. He was so good to us and so loving, I knew we needed to be fair. Through my tears, he just looked at me. He looked up at me and looked in my eyes and I knew he was talking to me, telling me he was ok and that I was going to be ok. I know that he's still with me.
i miss you.
