My precious Flossie,
Here I am one year after that sad, sad day with a hole still in my heart as big as the Grand Canyon. I do have many more good days than bad but I get so weepy when I allow myself to dwell on that day.
I am trying to reflect on our lives together and put it into perspective that it really was time for you to rest.
The day we picked you out, or rather the day you showed us your personality because you must have picked us out is still vivid for all of us. And when I called the lady back a bit later to see if your brother was still available because you were such a handful, I felt you needed him to play with she said “Oh, she must be hard headed like her Mother”.
You were so full of energy, loved to run, smartest dog we’d ever had and we made you the center of our lives. We never sent you to a kennel for one single day. You were considered priority whenever we made any kind of plans.
Walks in the country, walks around Fletcher Park with Richard, running in the small ditch after a rain splashing your feet & throwing the water up behind you, falling into the water at the Legislative building in downtown Raleigh, falling into a moss filled creek chasing a deer the day after you’d been to the beauty parlor, sneaking under the fence at the college to get a drink, chasing the neighbor dragging your hind legs after the back surgery, jumping up to bite the neighbor’s black lab in the butt, scratching on the cupboard that held the honey nut cheerios, taking the cat food away from the 2 cats, hiding your treats, guarding your treats from the cats, playing with Doofus when he was blind & you crippled (what a sight that was).
I always thought it was so unfair that a dog with so much energy and loved running & playing had to have the troubles you had beginning at only 3-1/2. But that energy and spunk pulled you through so much while other dogs may have given up. All your vets were amazed that you would spring back time after time. Your first seizure was heartbreaking for me and I just knew we were nearing the end of our time together. Dad told me that I really needed to begin thinking of giving you up. How do you do that after over 17 years and all we’d been through and how much will to live you always had?
July, August and September were not so bad. You did do a lot more sleeping and often seemed as if you were not completely connected to the things around you. Sometimes wandering like you had no place to go or weren’t sure where you wanted to go. Even those last weeks when you would muster up all you could, look at wherever it was you wanted to get to and almost dive for that area in hopes that the back legs would work this time I could see the resolve in your eyes and the spirit in your body. Sometimes it even worked out.
I am so sorry that our time together was up. I still have days I question if I could have somehow done more or feel that you never gave up but I did. It was a long, long month last October for both of us. Me, knowing I had to make the final decision for you and not liking that decision and you, like always, being a trooper. You always looked to me for support and help. You trusted me completely.
This was my final gift to you my precious girl. To help you slip away peacefully and not suffer a painful passing. You had overcome enough difficult days in your long life. My hope is that my heartwrenching decision in some small way repays you for the gift you gave to me by being in my life and teaching me so much in our 17-1/2 years together.
I'll never forget you and I miss you every day Miss Priss. Be a good Girl! Love, Mom