The Gift of Love (A Tribute to Cuddles Hubbard)
Growing up as child, I longed for the companionship of a dog. My father's illness, however, made it impossible for our family to have a pet. When I got married and left home my husband joined the Navy and we moved frequently; I missed my family and was very lonely.
Shortly after we were transferred to Camp Lejeune, NC, my husband and I decided to get a puppy. We visited a local breeder. There were lots of different puppies, but one stood out, a tiny, creme-colored ball of fur with apricot ears and big dark eyes - a Toy Poodle. I had said before we arrived at the breeder, that I did not want a white dog (too hard to keep clean). This little ball of fur stared at me intently and whined as I walked by holding the little black puppy that my husband and I had decided on. Her little voice seemed filled with such a need that I couldn't resist. I decided on the little creme- colored puppy with the big bright eyes.
On the car ride home the puppy climbed up on my shoulder and rested her little head against my neck. Cuddling down and snuggling all the way home. We decided to name her Cuddles.
We bonded with Cuddles immediately. She was so smart and sweet. After a few days she began to have diarrhea and vomiting. I took her to the vet right away. Cuddles was diagnosed with Coccidia, ear mites, kennel cough and skin allergies. She was also only four weeks old and I was told that this is entirely too young for a puppy to be taken from her mother. The vet advised us to take Cuddles back to the breeder and either get a refund or exchange her for another dog. I asked the vet if Cuddles was going to die. He said no, but that she would probably be a nuisance of health problems all of her life. I took her home.
I called the breeder and told her what the vet had said. (I had no intention of taking Cuddles back but thought the breeder should know that she had sold us an extremely sick puppy that was too young to be separated from her mother.) She told me that I could bring her back and she would "exchange" her for another puppy and put Cuddles "down." I hung up on her.
For the next few weeks, I cared for Cuddles night and day. It was difficult at times and the vet bills were expensive. Cuddles was too sick to eat puppy food and was getting weaker. My mom recommended feeding her baby food with my finger. This worked. Slowly, Cuddles began to get better and she quickly proved to be worth any amount of trouble or expense.
Cuddles had a happy, charming personality and her intelligence was almost eerie. From the very beginning, she had an unnerving habit of staring intently at us whenever we spoke, cocking her head from one side to another as if understanding every word. Pretty soon we were spelling certain words that we didn't want her to know - for example, "Let's take her to the P-A-R-K later." Or "Did you get her a T-R-E-A-T?"
The years passed much too quickly. We went through several moves across country, the death of my mom to cancer, financial ups and downs, the heartbreak of infertility, long separations due to the military, good times and bad, but through it all, Cuddles was the one constant in our lives. She was such a joy. So full of unconditional love.
The years finally began to take their toll on our little dynamo. She couldn't chase the squirrels the way she used to, or play ball with the same enthusiasm. Her arthritis was so bad on some days that she could barely get up. She had been through numerous operations for the removal of benign tumors. She napped much more than usual, and had to be lifted onto the bed at bedtime. . I took Cuddles to the vet fearing the worse. But he said that other than the arthritis, Cuddles was in no pain and he prescribed a new arthritis medicine for her. This medicine really seemed to do the trick. She was more active than she had been in months. She was playing with her "brother" Dinky Doolittle more and more and our walks were beginning to get longer and longer. She was happy. Always smiling and extremely happy to see us whenever we came home. She was very lovable and whenever I was feeling down I just needed to look into those bright eyes and I would feel better. This past summer was our best together. I seemed to worry about her constantly so I spent a lot of time with her. We spent lazy days in the back yard and park, taking rides in the car, going for walks or trips to the Dairy Queen.
On Saturday, October 11, 1997, I awoke from a terrible dream. I was crying and very upset. I had dreamed that Cuddles had ran in front of a car and been killed. My husband comforted me and told me that it was "just a dream" that we never let Cuddles and Dinky near the street. I knew he was right but for some reason, I couldn't shake that dream. Then on Tuesday, October 14 her condition seemed to suddenly deteriorate. Cuddles was grasping for breath and in extreme distress. It was about 9:30 at night so we had to rush her to the emergency pet hospital.
The vet on duty said that both of Cuddles lungs had collapsed and that her condition was extremely critical. We called our friends and family for prayers. And we waited at the hospital and prayed a lot ourselves. Finally the vet came out and said she was stabilized and that we would have to leave. This was at 1:30 a.m. We begged them to let us stay but they said no. They let us see her before we left. I wasn't sure we were doing the right thing by leaving her there. I was so afraid she would die alone. We had to sign a DNS form (Do Not Resuscitate) stating what measures we wanted the vets to use to save Cuddles. This was an extremely difficult decision. There are three choices if the heart stops. One - Do nothing; Two - do CPR on a closed chest and Three - Cut open the chest and do manual massage on the heart. I decided on number two. I couldn't bare the thought of her little chest being cut open but number one was out of the question for us.
Cuddles was in an incubator being given oxygen. When I bent down and said her name she leaned her face up against the glass and her eyes held a very different kind of plea than they had all those years ago when we first met. As hard as it was, I couldn't deny that plea - she couldn't breathe and needed expert care. I knew that I had to leave her there alone. That if there was any chance of saving her I had to take it. But yet, I knew that my dream was coming true. I whispered to her "Mommy loves you Cuddles" and we left. I couldn't stop crying.
We called every hour to check on her condition. Each time we were told she was resting peacefully. Then at 6:30 a.m. the phone rang. My husband answered it and I knew before he said anything that she was gone. I guess I had known all along how it would end. I am not a superstitious person, but I feel with all my heart that the dream I had three days before she died was Cuddles' way of once again taking care of me. She was preparing me for what was to come. I did not have to make a decision to put her to sleep and she did not suffer. I am thankful for that. Cuddles was 12 ½ years old. The medical reports determined that she died of an aneurysm. And that there was nothing we could have done to save her. In fact, the vet said that normally a dog would have died immediately and that Cuddles must have loved us very much to fight so hard to stay alive.
We had her buried in a pet cemetery near our home and
we had a favorite photo scanned onto her grave marker with the words:
We miss you, we love you and we will see you again.
Thank you for being our friend.
You were an amazing soul and we will love you always pretty girl.
Thank you so loving us so well.
Mommy, Daddy and Dinky
I imagine Heaven as a place where the sun always shines and there are beautiful flowers and green meadows. I like to think that Cuddles is with my mom and she can once again bury her bones, chase squirrels and play ball. If and when I get there, I imagine all my loved ones coming to greet me and I know that Cuddles will be in the lead.
Lisa Hubbard