Saying goodbye to a family member

Fifteen years ago, I would open the front door to my house after a long day of work and Nittany, our Lhasa Apsa – Bichon Frise puppy, would greet me. Her tail would wag a mile a minute and she would race around my feet. Her eyes would be bright with joy and excitement.

Within a few minutes, my three kids would come running down the steps to give me a welcome hug. Nittany would become even more excited. It was like a game to her. She found me first and wanted the recognition to prove it. “I found him, I found him,” she seemed to say.

Like a fine wine

It’s been a long time since Nittany raced anywhere. For the last six months, she’s been slowing down. In recent months, a big day for her was moving from one doggy cushion to another. At 15, she had earned her rightful position as the grand old dame of the manor. Her days were filled with sleep and a lazy late afternoon stroll in the yard.

A few weeks ago, we started to notice that she wasn’t getting around so well. First, she experienced one health issue after another. Then she took a dark turn for the worse late last week. She stopped eating. Her breathing became raspy and her back legs jelly-like. She couldn’t seem to hold herself up for long stretches. She walked with a noticeable limp. On top of everything, she would stare off into space, not really following anyone or anything.

She seemed like she was lost in another world.

Goodbye for real this time

My wife and I took turns holding her close to our chest. We rubbed her back and whispered gently into her ear. It seemed to calm her breathing and bring some relief. My wife reminisced how Nittany would always lay with her on the couch. They were inseparable. Two peas in a pod. She mentioned also how they were “the night owls” in the family. (Over the years, when Nittany needed to go outside in the middle of the night, she would wake up my wife. It’s like she knew my wife would be the sympathetic one to her needs. A heavy sleeper, I tended to sleep right through her requests to go outside.)

I rocked Nittany and told her how she was a “good girl” and how much we all loved her. I recalled how she saw our kids from adolescence to adulthood and was always smack dab in the middle of the fun. Whenever the five of us came together for a family hug or a selfie, one of the kids would inevitably pick her up to join in. The message was loud and clear. We weren’t a family without Nittany. She was part of the pack.

The drive to the veterinarian the next day was the saddest drive of my life. We told the vet about what was going on. It didn’t take her long. She affirmed our fears. Given Nittany’s age and recent health issues, the humane thing to do was to put her out of her pain.

While the vet and her assistant got things ready, my wife and I tried to keep our composure. We put our heads in Nittany’s black and white fur. We talked to her and wiped tears away from our eyes. She seemed to know and be at peace with everything. At least, that’s what I prayed for. She took a few more deep breaths and then, in a few minutes, it was over. No more pain. No more struggles.

My friend had moved onto the next life.

A blubbering mess

It’s been a few days and I’m still a mess. I suspect I will be for a while. I found an old bag of “doggie treats” the other day and I had to brace myself. The moment was gone in a few seconds, but I still ached for the dog that I loved for so long.

Nittany was one of the good things in this life. She started out as a normal family pet but she wormed her way into our hearts and became much more than that. I loved her as much as I’ve loved anyone or anything in my life. She protected my children when they were little. She was an angel who helped all of us become better people.

I’ve shared this with family and friends a few times in the days since her death and I mean it from the bottom of my heart: She was kinder and more giving than some people I know. She taught me what it means to love and live a full life.

She was a loyal friend and family member to the end. And I love her. And I miss her dearly. And I will for a very long time.

Until we meet again old girl!