Our little family has been blessed beyond comprehension by the love of dogs. We brought our perfect first dog, Bear, home a week after our honeymoon and he lived a life dedicated to warning us of all offenses until he was 14. He was a chow/corgi mix who had been abused and truly sparked the question “who rescued who”?
Our buddy Bear circa 2002
A few years later, Willow, also abused and rescued, changed the dynamic mightily and insisted Bear consider playing for perhaps the first time ever. She was a jack russell/lab mix who played fiercely, protected deeply, and snuggled greatly. She died right as Covid started at the age of 12.
Willow circa 2008…she did not do anything, that’s not mud on her face, how dare you?!
The summer before I started my Ph.D., we brought home a little yorkie/schnauzer rescue who was nine months old. The idea was that she would help keep Willow entertained while I studied and Bear continued his devastating choice of not playing. Matilda Jane came home “unable” to walk on a leash, willing to Houdini her way out of any collar/leash combo, and eager to vocalize any and all dislikes.
She’s actually very sweet! This is MJ down to 75% of her teeth but not about to give up the good fight (best photo ever circa 2020)
Our sweet girl started really suffering from separation anxiety as the post-Covid world became safe-ish to venture into. She’d spent 2019-2021 pretty cuddeld up at home with her humans, and was a bit lost without her next door buddy, my momma, who died in 2021. To help our girl (and us), in fall 2022 we thought it would be a great choice to bring home a little jack russell mix puppy, Archer.
We were not wrong, but we are still tired.
Delightfully, MJ has [mostly] adapted to having a little brother. The mental alertness required to be a big sister to him has been really, really good for her. And to be very clear this girl has no issues with setting her own boundaries/enforcing them!
Instant best buddies, at least for Arch. Circa 2023.
Despite how good Archer has been for all of us, over the last couple of years, it’s been clear where Matilda Jane was occasionally confused or slowing down a bit. Her long-held hesitance to walk shifted from begrudging agreement to not wanting to go much further than the yard. She’s having a hard time with some of her routines and staying settled, much like you might see in a human late in life. And recently, after a lot of not being sure what but knowing something was wrong with our girl, we confirmed a diagnosis of dog dementia. Reflecting on it, there was no real surprise in the diagnosis, but still a devastating gut feeling of knowing we’re closer to the end than we’d like has become my constant companion the last few weeks.
We are at the point of tracking how her days go to help us more objectively know when there are far more bad days than good. And despite sometimes stepping in a puddle I’d rather not or finding her staring at the wall for what feels like a very long time, we’re all making it okay. There are still more good days than not.
The truth is, she’s lived a good, long life. And the other truth is, no matter how long we get, I’ll wish we had more time still.
She is 14 now and our promise to her – as it has been to all the dogs – is to honor her dignity and support her preferred quality of life until she’s done. And then we’ll honor her choice to be done and hold her safely as she leaves us.
She’s not that into yoga, but she is in to sitting on anything that seems rug-like.
There are days I think we’ll have another year and days I think we’re counting in weeks. Or days. While I can’t really know how long we have, I know we’re nearer the end than not. And so I find myself treasuring all her quirks, honoring all her wants the best ways we can, trying to write down every one of her nicknames, and letting her get away with even more than ever before. (And really she’s always been my baby girl who got away with a fair amount to start, so she’s living some good final days…)
I think it’s actually the right thing for a dog in a good home to be a bit spoiled. She should have no worries, only met expectations.
Here are some things I’ve learned from our girl and find myself learning from her now as she enters this final phase.
It’s okay to be unsure and hesitate a little as long as it doesn’t keep you from moving forward forever.
It’s okay to be not that girly but still rock hot pink.
Trust your gut and take your time with people – love deeply when you’re ready but take your time getting there.
It’s okay to let your mom cut your hair if like it better than the salon.
Always pay a professional for the nail trim, though.
Patience with those who annoy us is a virtue, but we all have our limits.
Set your boundaries and be willing to fight for them (maybe literally).
If you have a favorite spot, guard it. If your parents redecorate, you keep that pillow you love even if it no longer “goes” with the living room. They should have asked first.
Eat only when you’re hungry.
You’re never really too old to have another best friend.
When you’re tired of things you used to enjoy, it’s okay. At a certain point you’ve earned elder status and get to be ferried around a bit more than you once were and maybe waited on a bit more than you once were.
Most of all, I think our MJ is a good reminder that just because a human or dog is cautious to socialize or be themselves at first doesn’t mean they won’t get there with you. It’s okay to take time to dip your toe into new waters. And it’s worth it to let someone be themselves.
She’s never been the most snuggly dog but you would think twice about breaking and entering when you heard her loyal bark. Yep, even knowing at her heaviest, she was never more than 14.2 pounds.
I hope I’ll keep thinking of the things I want to add to this list as our time with our sweet girl remains. I wanted to share the perspective of knowing our time is near rather than just the time after her loss. Processing a slow journey to the end without acute illness is new for us and it’s hard in a different way than with Bear or Willow.
Sharing our home and life with dogs is one of life’s greatest gifts and I’m honored to be one of this girl’s humans and one of about 8 people she really likes. My life is forever better for bringing her home. Having witnessed the end of both dog and human life, we know what’s coming in some ways and we know what a sacred, beautiful moment it is to care for one of God’s creatures in their final moments. My prayer is that we’ll be the best humans we can be for our girl as long as she needs us.
