Of Mice And Moments | Pet Lessons 2

Of Mice and Moments - a podcast that finds significance in the small moments. In this episode, Clay discusses his first dog's end-of-life experience. He shares the lessons this experience taught him.

Transcript

Hi,

This is Clay Stevenson and welcome to of Mice and Moments,

A podcast that finds significance in the small moments.

As a young couple,

Angie and I both had steady jobs,

Two working cars,

And we were living in a house with a yard.

However,

As young couples sometimes do,

We made a few rash decisions those first few years.

One of those decisions in year two of our marriage was to travel four hours,

Meet with a breeder and purchase our very first pet,

A German Shepherd named Roxy.

On the way back from the breeder,

Roxy slept snugly on Angie's lap.

A picture of cuteness,

A ball of fur so sweet you could hardly stand it.

And unfortunately,

That's about when the sweetness ended,

Because when we got home and she woke up,

We realized that maybe we'd bit off more than we could chew.

We didn't realize the microscopic size of her bladder.

The first thing she did was run into the one room with a carpet where she had an accident.

We then moved her into the kitchen where we could clean up the mess in the living room.

And as we were doing that,

She proceeded to chew at the corner of the cabinets.

We were naive of the needs of a puppy and soon realized that we needed potty mats and chew toys on hand at all times.

But that evening brought the greatest trial we were to face.

Having decided that we didn't want Roxy to sleep in our bed,

We cordoned her off in another room and settled in for the evening.

The settling in only lasted about 90 seconds and then that little puppy started howling.

We did not anticipate the intense sadness she would experience being away from her littermates.

Of course,

We jumped into action.

We picked her up and soothed her and then moved her into our room,

Keeping her in a box that wouldn't allow her to jump out and get in our bed.

And when we settled in for the second time,

Feeling wise about our quick action and decision making,

The settling in lasted about two minutes when the howling began again.

Realizing a pattern,

I decided that if we kept creeping Roxy closer to the bed,

She would eventually end up in our bed.

I didn't want that.

She was going to be a big dog.

So we moved her next to the bed and that night I got little sleep.

I woke up two or three times with half of my body hanging off the bed in her box,

My arm or leg,

Her new littermate,

Keeping her comfort.

And ultimately we made it through the night.

That was the first of many days of learning what it meant to be a parent of a puppy.

I've heard people give advice.

If you want to have kids,

First have a dog.

I've also heard people admonish that having a dog is nothing like having a kid.

I think I sided with the former.

Learning to pay attention to my pet's needs did encourage me to have a mindset of a parent.

And raising Roxy as a puppy not only imprinted us on her,

But her on us.

It became second nature to take care of her and have her present in our lives.

We had Roxy until she was 10.

She started her life with a backyard and a house,

Then moved with us to an apartment in Miami,

Then to a condo in Los Angeles,

And finally onto a 10 acre farm in North Carolina.

She had more life experiences than many people I know.

We gave her copious amounts of love and attention and she lived a great life.

As her days were coming to an end,

Angie and I were faced with the decision of when to have her put down.

If you've had a pet,

You know that this can be a challenging call to make.

We noticed she wasn't well and the vet suggested that the end was near.

One morning I noticed that she didn't rise when I came into the room.

She laid on her bed unmoving,

Her tail not wagging as it always did when I came close.

That's when I knew it was time.

I picked her up,

Put her in the car,

Drove her a few miles to the vet and when I stood at the counter with her,

Explaining the situation,

The tears started flowing.

The ladies in the office looked at me with compassion.

They asked if I could set her down,

If she could walk in,

And when I set her down,

She stood.

And when the vet opened the door to take her back,

I saw her tail wag one time.

She couldn't help herself from feeling one last moment of excitement,

Seeing someone she recognized,

Someone who gave her treats.

And I broke down in that moment.

I dropped alligator tears and had one of those ugly cries that you hear about.

I don't consider myself a crier,

But I couldn't contain myself.

I was wracked with sobs and the entirety of the office staff gathered around me and hugged me and held me.

And when I could catch my breath between sobs,

I tried my best to thank them and quickly made my escape.

I sat in the car and composed myself.

When I got through the tears,

I was able to experience that sense of relief that you get when you're dealing with pain and you're finally able to truly let it out.

You see,

I wasn't only crying for Roxy at that moment.

My dad had passed away four months earlier,

And I truly hadn't begun my grieving process for him,

For that loss.

Losing Roxy had allowed the floodgates to open and for true grieving to begin.

I know we all cope differently with loss,

But I needed that moment to let go.

A few years later,

When Angie and I were ready for another dog,

We started looking for our old leash and collars from Roxy to reuse,

But we couldn't find them anywhere.

She asked if I could remember the last time I had seen them,

And I did.

The last time I saw them was when I took Roxy to the vet.

In my emotional state,

I must have forgotten to get the leash harness and collar.

I had set them down and left them there two years earlier.

When I called,

Surprisingly,

The vet still had them.

And when I picked them up,

I experienced a sweet completion,

Visiting the vet to pick up Roxy's old items to begin a new journey with a new dog to welcome into the family,

This time knowing a little better what to expect.

Once again,

I found myself in debt to Roxy.

She had consistently taught me lessons over the years,

And this time she was invaluable as a catalyst for me to begin the grieving process that leads to true healing.

So how about you?

Do you have a dog or a treasured pet?

Have they taught you about love,

Grief,

Healing?

If not,

Consider your interactions with them,

Because there are lessons if you're willing to learn.

Reviews

thank you for reminding me there was good with my dog. I've only been feeling the pain of the loss....forgetting there was so much more.

needed this right now. my cat is 18 and we've been struggling to decide for months if/when we should end her suffering. it's such a hard choice, i wish i knew what to do💔😣💔