Wednesday, 3 June 2015

Rosie.

She's not "just a dog".  She is my daughter.  Yeah, if you're not a dog person, you think I'm nuts.  I don't care.

Rosie was the only other female in this house.  Ever.  Well, unless some of our fish were female, but who can tell with fish?

On June 22nd, 2001, I talked Hubster into going to see some Bichon Frise puppies that I found an ad for in the Toronto Star.  I had been bugging him for years to get a dog, but he was alway, "No, no, no."  Somehow, someway, I convinced him and we went to see them in Mississauga.  The backyard breeder brought out a little, tiny 8 oz ball of white fluff that fit in the palm of my hand.  Instantly, I fell in love.  Truth be told, so did Hubster.  We tried to play it cool, but we both knew we would take her as our own.

On June 24th, I went to Petsmart and got all the puppy essentials...bowls, a collar, a leash, a bed and a teeny tiny crate.  And we went to pick up our new baby girl.

She was lovely from the moment we got her.  So patient with our then 5 and 2 year old boys.  So smart and so loving.  She was the definition of a lap dog.  Attached to my hip from the beginning. I loved her so so much.

We took her to the vet for her initial check up.  She had ear mites, a heart murmur and was very underweight.  But no matter...she was ours and we knew we would nurse her back to perfect health.  And that we did.

Rosie has been a solid member of our family for 14 years now...well, it would be 14 years on June 24th. But she won't make it to that date. Our vet will come to our house this Saturday to put our sweet girl to sleep.  She has been suffering with what we think is Cushings Disease for about three years now.  Her eyesight is all but gone, she is covered in awful cysts that weep and bleed at the slightest touch, she is almost deaf, she is incontinent, has started vomiting and has arthritis all over her body.  She is old.  She is weak.  She is suffering.  And so, I had to make the most difficult decision I have ever, ever had to make.  As much as it kills me, it's time to let her go.  It's time to let her rest peacefully.  And I am utterly heartbroken.  I physically ache just thinking about it.  But, in my heart of hearts, I know it is the right thing to do.  It is the final decision I will make as her dog-mommy.  It is selfless because if I could keep her with me forever, I would.  But I can't.

And so, I soak in her sweet face every chance I get.  I watch her doing nothing.  I watch her sleep.  I pet her when she can tolerate the touch and I pray for her.  I know she will wait for me at the Rainbow Bridge.  I know she will leap into my arms when I meet her there one day.  And she will be healed and young and healthy.  And she will love me like she does today.

Thank you for 14 wonderful years Rosabella.  You will be sorely missed and will always stay in our hearts.




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