This is one of the last pictures I took of my sweet little dog...just the day before yesterday. Last night at 6:13 PM, January 27, 2013, Roxie left us. But not without saying goodbye.
She had been particularly listless and unable to walk far without repsiratory distress. She was snuggled up with the Irishman on the couch, under the blankets. We had finished supper, but she wasn't eating...not even the juicy chunk of baked chicken I tried to give her. She'd barely eaten anything all day. She suddenly sat up and leaned against dad and nuzzled at him and he petted her and then without warning, she hopped off the couch before he could stop her to help. She poked at Bella with her nose and then trotted into the office where I was. When she came in here, she nuzzled against my leg and I reached down and petted her and rubbed her ears. She was wagging her tail and I said--hey, look at that waggy tail-that's what I like to see! And she licked my hand and walked over by her pillow where she always lays, and laid down. Then she kinda tipped to one side and I yelled for the Irishman...he came running and I was crying. she's dying...I said, she's dying. It took about 5 minutes or so for her to completely stop breathing. We loved her and petted her and kept our hands on her. We told her that it was okay, that everything was okay...we told her she was a good dog and that we loved her. And then she was gone, after one last gasp.
This morning we buried her by one of her favorite hole digging spots, all wrapped up in her red and polka dot fleece blanket that I made for her because she was always cold.. She would burrow into it every night to sleep. She would climb out of it every morning when I called "Come on Rox--let's go do the chickens.".
My husband and son dug the hole for her and we all said a few words about her and what a great little dog she was, that rescuing us like she did was the greatest thing that ever happened. I petted and kissed her shiny black head before the Irishman lowered her into the grave.
I am doing some cathartic housecleaning this morning. I am all cried out, I think. The past week has been hard and I cried for her. Last night and today, I have cried for me. I am grateful she isn't suffering anymore. I am grateful that I took a little daschund that I didn't really want, when my niece found her abandoned in the house she had for sale. I am grateful that our lives were enriched by a little dog who was fiercely loyal and a constant companion...partly because she was afraid of being left again, but hey--I'll take it. We loved each other completely...and it just doesn't get any better than that.
A friend sent me this, and I wanted to share it because it is so true....
Okay. I'm going back to some work so I don't have to think so much.
Thanks to all of you for your thoughts and prayers during this painful time...I appreciate every one of you.