Six and a half years ago, Precious came to live with me. She is a black Labrador Retriever that my brother and his family rescued from a shelter. After a year of being part of their family, a cross-country move made it impossible for them to keep her, so she came to live with me. That was May 2004.
Though I lived in a small one-bedroom apartment, I thought I was up for an energetic Lab because I lived just a couple of blocks from the Monon Trail, a busy Indianapolis greenway, where bicyclists, joggers, and dog walkers abound. I romantically pictured Precious and I logging many miles happily walking the trail, but on the first day I took her out, she got so excited at the sight of another dog that she took off running and pulled me down on the ground. In front of everyone.
I quickly jumped up, shook off concerned citizens, and promptly headed home. We had a lot of work to do before we could walk on the Monon again.
Precious lived with me in two different apartments, enduring long leash walks on paved sidewalks just to do her business. When she had opportunities to visit my parents’ farm and run off-leash in their big yard, she was in heaven. She chased cats, barked bravely from the car at the cows but wouldn’t go near them in person, and always found her way out to the barn where there was all kinds of stuff to sniff and eat that was actually off limits.
When we finally moved to our first house, Precious’ inner watch dog emerged. With three entrances and windows on all sides, she spent the first few nights in her new home pacing and finding a way to watch all the doors at the same time. Eventually, she began sleeping next to my bed, but if ever there was an overnight guest, she would sleep in the hallway between the two bedrooms and between us and the doors to outside. She was extremely protective.
When Precious came to me, she was already house broken and never even tried getting on the furniture. She did like to eat things, though. Occasionally, I would come home to find something missing, or a pile of vomit containing something I never knew was missing. She snatched eggs and apples, ate most of a blanket once, and consumed the first few chapters of Genesis out of a leather-covered Bible. Her most memorable meal was a pair of gardening gloves, which I didn’t even know were missing until they showed up in one of the piles.
Speaking of eating, Precious’ one joy in life is food. She loves food of all kinds: dog food, of course, but also any scrap of anything that might fall from the counter while I am cooking. I started out never feeding her people food, but eventually those pitiful eyes secured pieces of toast or chunks of muffin directly from the table. It was a horrible habit that led to all kinds of begging, but it made her so wonderfully happy. Her favorite snack was popcorn. Though she was glad to eat from my hand or from the floor, the whole experience was improved for her when she could catch it flying through the air with her teeth.
Through the years, I always resisted being one of “those” people who slept with their dog. For one thing, Precious is a big shedder, and the thought of handfuls of black hair in my bed gave me the heebie jeebies. For another thing, she is a dog.
As Precious grew older, however, she got bolder about jumping up onto the bed. First, she started doing it when I wasn’t home. Then, one night during a thunderstorm (which she hates), she jumped right on the bed and curled into the blankets like she owned the place. I was too tired to fight with her, so I just curled up and went back to sleep myself. What a mistake.
Over the past couple of years, Precious and I have gone back and forth over whether she gets to sleep in my bed or not. I bought her her own bed to put right next to mine, but she was no dummy. It’s a lot colder down there at night. Slowly, I have come to realize that I am one of “those” people.
I am one of those people in the world that let a dog really get into my heart.
That’s why this evening, I am consumed by a great sadness as I spend my last evening with Precious. I’ve known something was wrong with Precious for a few weeks now. It started when she began to eat her dinner slowly. And eventually, she wouldn’t eat at all. A couple of trips to the vet indicated an infection, and after a few days on an antibiotic, she seemed to be perking up. But there have been many dips, too. And over the past few days she has refused to eat anything. When I visited a new vet today, a quick examination revealed the worst.
I don’t know how I am possibly going to walk her into that vet clinic again tomorrow knowing what awaits her. I don’t know how I am going to come home and not find her waiting at the door for me. I don’t know how I am going to gather up all her blankets and bones, bag up all the old dog food and medicines, and vacuum up all the dog hair. I don’t know how I am going to sleep at night without Precious on watch.
But I do know that tonight I am going to lay on the floor with Precious. I am going to pet her and sing to her and tell her what a good dog she has been. And I am going to be so thankful that Jesus gave me a dog like Precious to fill a little empty spot in my heart.
This is my first visit to your blog, but I will be back. My sweet boy kitty, Sam Houston, died on Wednesday, so I know what the pain feels like. Praying for you.
I’m so sorry for your loss. And this was such an eloquent tribute to a wonderful friend. She sounds like she had character!
I’m so sorry for your loss. I’ve been there as well and thought I’d never get over it. My Molly was such a special girl, as I’m sure Precious was also. I still tear up at the thought of her, but I now have 2 new gals who are delightful in their own ways. I pray God comforts your heart, fills you with the peace that only He can give and fills the void in your heart. God bless you.
Oh, and I meant to say that I am sorry for the loss of your beautiful Precious. May the Lord comfort your heart. 🙂
What a beautiful dog, I’ve always wanted one like that! Love your (in)courage post too. I usually don’t look ppl up and comment on their blog, but I am today…:). It’s so true how we as women, do that to each other. And you’re right, we may be missing out on some great friendships! Thanks for sharing.
I pray that GOD’s unfailing love will fill your heart during this most difficult of times.
I am so sorry for you loss. I spent the last nights of our yellow baby’s life on the floor, too.
You are in my prayers, it’s such a hard thing to do. After 4 years and a new “baby” my tears still flow for you. God bless.
oh this brought me tears.
we have lost so many of our loved ones… and for some reason all of our animals live to a good age…18-20. A long time to love them. I reall love her grey hair, she is a grand old lady and I wish you both a good bye that is lasting and meaningful. I know how hard it is.
I had all mine cremated and put in little boxes (yes I know it sounds weird) but I just couldn’t let them go somewhere and not know where. I told my husband if I go before you take me and the animals to the beach and let us go.
I will be thinking of you :o(
and praying.
Charity:
What a wonderful tribute to a wonderful dog. I will say a prayer for your boy tonight.
You did absolutely the right thing in putting him down. He was protective of you and you need to be of him.
Gerry may have told you that I lost my 17 year old Golden Retriever–Utah–in May. He was my best friend, EVER. Since I am religious, like you, I knew he was going to God’s reward; as is your boy for caring so well for you.
I have since got another Golden puppy–Jackson–and I am slowly giving into dog peoples ways of a food tidbit here and there and a little bedtime with his master. Someday, I hope you will do the same again. You sound like a master that all great dogs deserve.
God Bless You,
Don Davidson (Gerry’s leader at CUNA Mutual)
So sorry Charity. Praying you are comforted by our Father.
My dad recently had to put down our german shepherd of at least 15 years…so hard.
So glad you became one of “those” people and enjoyed what a friend a dog can be.
Just remember, you’re never alone and our Dad is always watching out for you as you rest safely in his arms.
Dear Sweet Friend, I read this last night with tears. I pray that you had a sweet night with Precious and that the LORD will strengthen you today. Love, Jenn
Charity, dear Charity, this is a wonderful tribute to a dear dog. I remember you saying that she came to you already named, but reading this and talking with you on the phone, I realized that she was perfectly named, for Precious has become so precious to you.
Oh this is so sad, Charity.
I’m praying for you right now.
May your last night together be very, very special and may you have strength for what lies ahead tomorrow.
So sad.
Char – it must be the season for this. We just had our 14-year-old spaniel put to sleep. And one day I’ll get over it. Maybe.
They become part of the family, part of our lives. And when they’re gone it leaves a void. But it’s better not to let the dog suffer. And I’m going to lose it all over again.