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9-17-17
My dog died this past Wednesday. I got the call from my mom right before I was heading to Bible study, and I left that to go be with her and my mom when she was put to sleep.
Annie was an Anatolian Shepherd mix, probably a blue/red heeler cross. She stood about two feet tall and 3 and a half feet long nose to tail. Being related to an Anatolian, her tail curved upwards an inwards towards her neck, a distinctive trait of the Anatolian, and her back paws had the double dactyls that told us for certain of her lineage. Her fur was a mix of white, gray, black, and deep brown, and she had a brown spot that extended over the top of her head to surround one milky white eye, sometimes lending to her the appearance of a pirate. Her behavior was anything but. Often, as she lay on the ground near the family eating dinner, or after barking in our yard with our four horses, she would sit with her blind eyes staring in slightly different directions, her held held high, breathing silently with her jaws a little open, paws regally crossed in front of her. If you happened by her she would often stop breathing for a moment and gaze briefly upward at you, as if her eyes could see anything more than blurred shapes and shadowy colors, her nose twitiching as she tested the air to see who you were.
We rescued Annie from the shelter, and she immediately was trouble; not trouble that she could help though. As a dog, she was the sweetest and gentlest animal you could find; she never once barked inside, would not lick your face (which was good as both our dogs seem obsessed with eating every piece of horse poop they can find on our 4 acre property), and was generally agreeable and friendly towards everyone. As a medical problem, she presented some difficulties. About a year after we got her we noticed her running into poles, and saw her become more cautious in her backyard vagaries. She developed juvenile cataracts that turned her eyes progressively whiter, eventually giving her the goofy appearance of a chameleon as her eyes rolled around, independent of the will of the other. Her blindness did not seem to overly trouble her; although it seems this way with many animals. I have seen more than a few three-legged dogs and cats that seem just as nimble and able as their quadrupedal counterparts. Unlike humans, they are not granted the ability to resent their injuries; with no other option, most animals seem able to surmount disabilities with overwhelming indifference or positivity in the face of their disfunction. Annie herself would roam around the backyard, seemingly having memorized her general location in reference to a few large landmarks which she used to navigate the area. The slope of the land to the pond, a lip created in the backyard by some cinderblocks, and two large live oaks seemed to be her north star and sun. If you let her out of the yard without a leash, she would turn apprehensive and cautious, often unwilling to put her paws on any unfamiliar texture. However, once a leash was on her neck she would usually proceed happily, trusting whomever happened to be walking her. Hearing, but not seeing, planes, squirrels, and birds in the sky and trees above her, she would chase the sounds of their motions vainly, perhaps tripping on the occasional stick, playfully grabbing it in her mouth briefly before dropping it a moment later, as if to say “ok, I’ll remember where I left this next time”.

When we put her down, the poor girl had a tumor on her spleen and bad internal bleeding. She lay sleepy on the table, too comfortable in the Vet’s office, the last time I saw her. When I go home next, I won’t get to feel her head push between my legs in a peek-a-boo greeting. Ladybug (our other mutt) wanders around sadly, still looking for her. Still, a creature so honest, kind, and innocent certainly goes to Heaven, if such a place exists, and I hope she enjoys the repaired facilities of her eyes, red-green colorblind as they are. 

Comments

  1. williams.dan76October 2, 2017 at 6:53 AM

    My eyes got teary reading your tender tribute to your dog.

    ReplyDelete

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