I realize that as I write this, not everyone will relate to it the same way I do. Just as there are dogs that are not really friendly toward people, not everyone is a dog person. Those of you that are, know who you are, and maybe the rest of you will still understand the principles involved and still get something from it. Just how do you deal with losing the best dog in the world, at least the best you’re come across, and more specifically how do you grieve the loss when you’re grieving the loss of the one who has helped you grieve all your other losses? Brandie came into our lives because of loss. It was July 4th weekend in 1991, when we lost a young puppy due to parvo disease. About two weeks later, my daughter and I went and picked out Brandie, a seven-week old Golden Retriever, and soon thereafter she began the work that she was so good at - helping the healing process begin, and within a short while we began to get over the loss of the first puppy. Even though it was not easy, it was easier because of her. And she would do it over and over again over her twelve years with us.
She was perfect for our family, my wife and I, our oldest daughter, and our set of special needs twin girls. The twins had severe disabilities and were thirteen years old when we got Brandie, and they loved her. Even as a puppy she was well behaved and was perfect for the girls. They lit up when she came around and especially enjoyed seeing me get on the floor and roll around with her. I can still hear their laughter. Probably even more amazing, she seemed to develop a sense of when they were about to go through one of their seizures and try to tell us about it. I have since heard about this from other people and stories I’ve read, but it’s always been real to me. She always seemed to be on their wave length, even though they were never able to communicate verbally.
She loved being around people and though she was certainly friendly around other dogs, she really preferred human companionship, and that’s one of the traits that made her such a great dog for me. She always had me or my wife, or someone helping with the twins around her 24 hours a day her entire life. There were probably not more than 60 days in the last ten years that either my wife or myself were away from her. Not only did she provide therapy for me, she was a therapy dog in reality. For over a year she accompanied me to two hospital units where she gave that unconditional love and acceptance that she was so good at. But I had to quit taking her after she was diagnosed with hip problems at age four. I could tell she really missed it, but I knew it was better for her. After that I had to make sure that I spent even more special time with her to make up for what she missing. But as good as she was as a therapy dog at the hospital, her real gift was in providing therapy to me as I needed it over the next few years.
The first occasion was after one of the twins died in 1995, just before her 18th birthday. Our daughter had experienced a lot of pain in her last few years and even though I was glad she was in Heaven and in pain no longer, I really missed her and her sweet smile. Brandie helped me through that time so well and over the next eight years she would do it again and again. I am convinced it was not just fate that brought Brandie to us. An actual angel from Heaven couldn’t have provided any more of what I needed. Four years later she would be there once again when on Father’s Day in 1999 the other twin would finally go to be with her sister.
Just a few months earlier I had been diagnosed with lymphoma, and this is the area where she did her best therapy. Until she died four years later, she was my constant companion and counselor. Her greatest joy was just being around me and doing whatever I was doing. She was the perfect dog to work in the yard with. She loved being outside and doing whatever I wanted to do. If it was time to cut the yard, she loved to watch. In fact, she had a regular routine. After I would cut the back yard, she would go to the same spot every time on the hill and lie down and watch me finish the front yard. From this vantage point, she could see everything that was going on and enjoyed lying in the freshly mown grass, especially rolling around scratching her back.
She was not the type of dog that I ever had to worry about running away, and believe me I’ve had the ones that you couldn’t let out the front door unless they were on a leash, and if they got past you when the front door was open they were gone like a flash and they weren’t coming back just because you called them. She did like to go on walks, only with one of us. In fact, the people in the neighborhood were always amazed when we would walk, because she had the most unusual habit. Once you picked up the leash, she became excited and once walking she would always want to take the leash from you and walk down the sidewalk with the leash in her mouth, walking herself. This was especially funny when we went to the vet. She would willingly walk into the office but once we had been there a few minutes, she would come and take the leash in her mouth and walk over to the door, telling us she wanted to go. Everyone in the office would always get a kick out of her behavior.
And as we both got older and my energy level began to decrease even more, she even became my barometer to monitor how hard I worked. As we both became more easily fatigued, she enjoyed the more frequent breaks we had to take. She would go with me to set under the fans, and after a rest we would be at it again. The only thing she couldn’t stand was being inside when I was outside. She would stand at the back door and bark until she got your attention, and this was about the only time she would bark. I’ll never forget the first time I heard her bark. She was about three years old, and I had never heard her bark before, and even then it was to let me know she wanted to be where I was. She seldom barked for any other reason, and didn’t bark at other dogs or become the nuisance dog that many people have for neighbors that seem to bark whenever a leaf falls and continue for what seems forever.
Two years ago she was also diagnosed with cancer and when I took her to the vet and had the growth removed we had even more in common, and as I helped her during her recovery process from surgery I began to realize even more what she had done for me. I would sometimes even think about who would live the longest. Well, while my condition began to stabilize, her cancer did come back a few weeks ago as the vet said it might and this time seemed to settle in her hips which had already deteriorated and in the last few days made it almost impossible to walk. I knew it was finally time to think about easing her pain three days before her death. I was going outside to mow the yard and she didn’t want to come. Now she had almost quit wanting to go on our daily walks, and we hadn’t taken one in a few days because I could tell the pain was becoming too much. She would hardly go a few yards and set down waiting for me to come back for her, and we would go back in. We even had to start going in and out a side door because there were no steps involved. She couldn’t even make the two steps through our normal door because of the stress it put on her hips. But it was especially troubling to me when she didn’t want to go outside with me to mow the yard. This was one of her favorite activities and even the sound of the lawnmower couldn’t get her to the door. And after I came into the house after finishing the back yard and went into the room and saw her straining to get up and unable to do so, I went back outside and put the lawnmower up and came back to the room and I just stretched down on the floor next to her and we just spent the next hour just loving each other.
Two nights later was July 4th and as usual one of her least favorite times because of the loud fireworks. We went to bed early that night because we were all tired and emotionally spent, and near midnight I was awakened by an extremely loud blast and could hear her down at the foot of the bed. I could tell she was upset and wanted to get over closer to where I slept but couldn’t get up, so I laid down with her and stroked her and told her how much I loved her until she had calmed down and went back to sleep. The next day, my wife and I knew it was time to go to the vet and ease her suffering, and as we made that drive she reminded me of how things had come full circle. It was July 4th weekend twelve years ago that through our grief we began the process of inviting a special dog into our lives, an event that would impact our lives forever. And I say forever because I believe, as most true dog people will tell you, I will see her again one day, and even now I can see her running and playing with the twins.
When we arrived at the vet, there was someone at the side door to help us because we didn’t want to go through the front waiting area and upset the other people as they saw us carrying a dog and crying, and believe me the tears were uncontrollable. When we got her onto the examination table, things went quickly, in fact quicker than I thought it would. The vet agreed with us that we were doing the right thing and helped us through the process because she could see how hard it was on us. She told my wife and I to get up next to her head so that the last thing she would see were the people who loved her the most and as we were talking to her, she found the vein and gave her the shot. She was resting on her front paws so she could hold her head next to us and we were just telling her how much we loved her and kissing her on the side of her face like she always liked. Within seconds, she eased back down on her side and the vet moved to her side, checked for a heartbeat and told us she was gone. We then kissed her one last time, told her we loved her, and made our way through the tears to the car and back home.
When I arrived back home, it was looking like it was going to rain, but I thought there was enough time to finish mowing the yard that I had started three days earlier, and it would give me something to do. I know the neighbors might have thought I was crazy, but fortunately you can’t really tell someone is crying as they mow the yard from that far across the street. About every couple of trips I would either look up to the spot where she normally would be or hear what sounded like her barking from inside the house, but eventually I finished before the rain came. In fact, it reminded me of one of my favorite memories of the times we enjoyed. I have always enjoyed the time right before a good stormy rain. She never really liked thunder or any loud noises, but often she would come with me to the swing on the back porch where I could enjoy the wind and the smell that often comes before a good rain, but still be close enough to come in before the rain started. So I put up the mower and walked around to the swing and through the tears that would flow often over the next few days I saw in my mind’s eye many of the times we enjoyed and told her how much I loved her and appreciated what she had done for me. Within a few minutes the raindrops began to fall and we quickly went back into the house because she never liked the rain. Let the healing begin again.
