FOODFORTHOUGHT

I could see it in her eyes.
She knew there was a problem, something wrong that we just
couldn't fix. But she trusted me. She had to. But she didn't have
to like it.
I've written about Daisy before. For those of you who may not
know, Daisy is my Old English Sheep Dog. I stress the word "Old."
She has been a part of the family for more than a decade. We
adopted Daisy from the S.P.C.A. when she was about three years old,
the very first day we moved into our house. I mean the very first
day. The furniture wasn't even in place and the boxes were still
packed. It was Super Bowl Sunday and I was determined to finally have
a dog. You get a house, you get a dog.
What a dog she has been.
She had a spirit of independence. Which simply put, meant that
you left her alone when she didn't want to be bothered. If she didn't
want to play, she ignored you. She loved to run, jump and bark
whenever we went sledding in our backyard. She could out run you in
an open field but never let you out of her sight. Even in our home.
If you went upstairs so did she. If one person was up and the other
downstairs, she sat at the top of the stairs to keep an eye on both.
But she is old now. She doesn't run and jump any more. She
doesn't bark much at all. She sleeps so much that we need to stop to
check her breathing.
I'll be honest with you. I'm hoping to find her not breathing
one day. The alternative is tearing my heart out.
Daisy's arthritis is starting to take its toll. We spend $50 a
month on pills for her to ease her pain and keep her heart pumping.
Today, I had to lift her into and out of the car to get her to the
doctor's office.
She stumbles a lot, falls when she tries to jump down off the
couch and in a moment that pains me and yet is so wonderfully
beautiful, she looks at me with those eyes and begs for help.
She will attempt to jump up on the couch and only manage to get
her front half up. Laying part way on the couch she turns her
half-cocked head back toward me and sighs. Those eyes say, "Come on.
Don't make me beg you. Help me."
As soon as I get behind her, she braces herself and together we
manage to finish the task. Usually she stays in the exact spot she
falls into and once again sighs. This is tough stuff when you're more
than 14 years old.
Her breathing is heavy at times, to a point of distraction when I
am working or reading. The heavy panting is loud and continuous but I
keep reminding myself that the silence will one day be even more
difficult to bear.
She is unable at times to hold it when she needs to go out and
our back door area needs to be covered in heavy plastic because of it.
All of this prompted me to ask Doc if I would ever have to make
the decision to put her to sleep. He replied, "When she can't stand
any more and she is messing up the house. The arthritis affects the
nerves and will prevent her from functioning properly."
I sighed this time as she stood on the examining table and looked
at me with those eyes.
I don't know if this is fair or not. Perhaps some of you might
find this all foolish and maybe even sinful, but I pray to God about
her. I know God has more important things to take care of, but I've
been asking Him to let her die in her sleep because I can't do it.
At this very moment tears are streaming down my face even writing
about it. Oh, I know I would if I had to, for her sake. But she's
sitting right outside my door at the top of the stairs. Yes, my wife
is downstairs and I am here and she's looking at me with those eyes.
She knows that something's wrong.
"God, I'll clean up after her and I'll lift her up onto the couch.
I'll even carry her up the stairs if I must. But You tell her that
our time together is coming to an end. You're the One who created
her... with those eyes."


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"I believe in You!"
Bob Perks
Bob@BobPerks.com

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