Friday, December 12, 2008

Letting Go

I don't have to worry about Cooper or Pickle dying anytime soon; they are both relatively healthy and well maintained. I am, however, worried about my first dog, Sari. She turned 11 this year and although my brother calls me to tell me what she's been doing, I worry that she doesn't have many years left.
He called a few weeks ago to let me know that a possum was dumb enough to wander into the backyard where Sari was. Sari, the ever efficient killer, broke the possum's neck without getting one scratch on her or spilling any blood. Good girl. It's stories like that that makes me think that Sari has many years ahead of her. She was very proud of herself when my brother went into the backyard and she had her chest puffed out and started tossing the dead possum around. Gross. I remember coming home from school and she would be standing over whatever animal that dared cross her path. She could catch and kill birds faster than you could blink and slap mice like a cat to make them "pop." When my dad moved back to Washington with Sari, she got out of the backyard and killed a cat. To hear him tell the story you would be amazed at her prowess and sadistic nature. She basically tortured the cat until it was begging her to end its life. She chased it, pounced on it, let it go, give it a head start, and repeat the process for about an hour until the cat had little to no energy left.
She's an amazing dog. We got her when she was about 4 months old, ironically on Christmas day. Jindos are not really meant to be indoor dogs so she had to stay in the garage. Then she went to the backyard. I feel so bad for her because she was the most loyal dog anyone could ask for. She would protect us and our property with her life; she knew when you were sad and would sit next to you and lean on you to let you know that she's there, she would be genuinely excited to see you everytime you went near her and it really lifted my spirits to have a dog like her. She had a lot of socialization problems though; we never took the time to properly train her or get her accustomed to people and other dogs. Her prey drive was unlike any other and once she saw something she wanted, regardless of size, she had to go and kill it. Including small children.
I look at Cooper and his spoiled little face and the way he takes that for granted. Sari never got all the organic treats Cooper has, nor did she have as many toys. Cooper will never know what it feels like to stay outside longer than an hour nor will he ever know what it's like to be a diligent dog. I always wish I had Sari here with me although she would be miserable living inside. I just wish I could spoil her and treat her like a queen now that I make my own money and can spend it any way I want.
Corey's dog Sadie is 12 years old. She has cancer and her lungs and heart are filling up with fluid. Her health has been deteriorating for years but his parents keep holding on hoping that she gets better. While I know it will be hard to let a dog go, I don't think I can stand to see any of my dogs suffer as long as Sadie has. She's almost blind, has no energy, moody, is pain, arthritic, and hasn't eaten well for years. Although it would be a sad thing to do, I think putting her down would be best at this point.
Of course I can say that about Corey's dog. I don't know what I would do if that situation was reversed and that was Sari. I do know that Sari would be hundreds of times more miserable if she was suffering like that. Not to be able to run, chase things, kill things, or really, anything would break Sari's heart and spirit. I would want her to go with dignity and grace and not when she is literally peeing herself because she lost control of her bodily functions. I think she would deserve that.
The same goes for Cooper. He has a heart murmur and while I will continue to get that monitored over the years, if his condition worsens then I would have to put him down. I don't want Mr. Man to suffer; he's a good dog in his own way and I couldn't stand to know that my dog is suffering silently alone while I am at work. Plus, he is a bitchy little queen so I know his sufferings wouldn't be silent nor Ghandi-like. He would be screaming and in a horrible mood all the time. I wouldn't want that for Cooper. As soon as that mischievious little twninkle and smirk is gone from his face because he no longer has the energy or drive for life, I would have to make a very hard, tough decision.

No comments: