My Dog is Dying

Written - Spring 2019

You don't think about it when you go to pick out your rolley-polley little yellow puppy. You do your research, you check for ads in the paper (okay, it would be online now, but this was 13 years ago...), you gather your family in the car and you go look at puppies. Oh man, they are all so cute, but one little girl stands out. She is happy and funny and tucks her tail and runs as fast as she can in a circle. We all fall in love. She is soft and yellow and pudgy and has a big smile. She is ready for us and we are ready for her.

I spent hours and hours, and days and days taking her for walks and training her to the best of my layperson/Mom ability. We had three kids at this point, ages 1.5, almost 4, and 5.5. Just little ones. Add in a puppy and you've got childhood bliss.

As puppies tend to do, Belle grew quickly. She was smart and sweet and submissive, even to the little authority of my youngest son. She was careful to not knock them over, but sometimes still did. She loved going on our walks, but she always wanted to lead. It was kind of frustrating until I realized that if I held the leash on the handle of the stroller she could help me push/pull it. At that time, I had the two bigger kids in the double stroller and was backpacking the youngest, so I welcomed the help. It was interesting how she always wanted to be the lead dog on walks but then was compliant in all other obedience training. She learned: sit, stay, come, down, off, place (as in, go on your place/bed), and leave it. The last one was very important because, in our frazzled, parents-of-young-children minds, we thought getting baby chickens was a good idea.

Belle has always been a sweet girl though, and I think she realized that we didn't want the chickens to be eaten. She, unfortunately, took her non-chicken-eating desires out on our neighbor's Japanese Maple bush in their front drive. Not her finest moment...

Who... me?

As the years passed, she has grown into one of the family. We have taken her with us to the beach, we have taken her on vacation, we've taken her to Grandma's house. As she has gotten older and we have had more active or long-distance vacations, we have left her in a great "dog ranch" near our home or with Grandma. My mom had a dog at the time too, so they would have fun together and she learned the phrase and got excited when she heard, "Do you want to go to Grandma's?"

The years have flown and I look at my oldest about to graduate and head off into the Army and I look across the room at a now 13-year-old Belle. She is breathing loudly while she sleeps. She has snored for years now, but this is different. Sometimes she struggles to breathe. It is hard to watch, but I know that this is where she wants to be right now. She still moves well and loves to swim in our pond. She even pretends that she is "just enjoying a swim" as she gets closer and closer to our young ducks.

"Leave it, Belle." She turns away. Still submissive, sweet girl.

My husband says he doesn't want any more dogs after she's gone. On the one hand, I get it. How can we beat the awesomeness we have with Belle? On the other...



UPDATE: On September 30th, our beloved Belle passed away. She made it to almost 13.5 and passed on her own. We will miss her.