Her head was cradled in
my lap as, amid the sobs and tears, I told her time and again
how much I loved her and hugged my precious girl. As my vet gave
the lethal injection, I felt the life leave my dear friend and
companion. Peggotty was now gone, a sweet, gentle, and loving
dog to the end. With her, a piece of me died, too.
It was six years ago in June that I
chose a little fur ball puppy from a little of seven. On 20 July
1991 she came home with us and changed my life forever. Our first
dog. As prepared as we thought we were, it became apparent that
there was much to learn. Peggotty was an able teacher. My many
mistakes in training and discipline and even general maintenance
left no lasting impressions on this delightful puppy. In spite
of me, she grew into a dog who was both dignified and playful.
Over the years she welcomed five other dogs into the household
and never begrudged them their share of the attention and resources.
She was always secure in her top dog status while never pulling
rank. The others deferred to her without her need to demand it.
The love she provided
for each member of my family was motivation for me to try to be
the best daddy possible to her, studying all I could to equip
me to do what was right. When I erred she still licked my face
and stayed at my side.
Over the years she became my constant
companion. We took classes together, visited schools, and became
part of a group that visited the county nursing home. In my training
classes, Peggotty was an able demonstration dog. Wherever she
was allowed to go, she went with me.
Peggotty was always sensitive to the
family. She sat by me as I recovered from two surgeries.
In December 1996 Peggotty was diagnosed
with bone cancer. The news was devastating. My vet referred me
to Purdue and she was accepted into their study on the disease.
Her left front leg was amputated on 27 December 1996 and in less
than a month she was her old self again. It was encouraging to
see her get around on three legs. She bounded up and down stairs
and ran around the yard with our other dogs, holding her own in
all their games. Her quality of life seemed undisturbed by the
loss of a leg.
Each monthly visit to Purdue brought
good news. She remained clear of cancer. On 27 May 1997, the day
after her sixth birthday, she received yet another good report.
That day she also appeared on a local Lafayette, IN, television
news report and earlier that month was televised visiting a young
boy with cancer at Riley Children's Hospital in Indianapolis,
spreading her cheer and encouragement.
In June she passed all her requirements
to become a certified Delta Society Pet Partners Therapy dog in
anticipation of her mission to represent the Purdue study and
bring hope to children in area hospitals. It was not to be.
With each month of good reports it
was easy for our family to believe that Peggotty had licked the
cancer and would continue on. Then came her visit on 10 July.
The radiographs showed that the cancer had spread to her lungs.
A week later Peggotty spit up some blood. Our vet confirmed that
the cancer was growing. Purdue had given Peggotty from several
weeks to, perhaps, a few months. Our vet guessed about a month.
It was much less.
After awaking one morning coughing
heavily, Peggotty began to cough up large amounts of blood. The
end was here. It had to be faced. The kindest thing we could do
for her, as painful as it would be to us, would be to put her
down. And so, on the morning of 28 July 1997, we said goodbye
to our sweet girl. It was made more difficult by her calm demeanor
that showed little indication of the deadly cancer that was filling
her lungs. She seemed so happy and healthy.
Going home to the four remaining dogs
did not lessen the loss. Each is unique and each prized for his
own special qualities. It's hardest being with Boomer. He is Peggotty's
brother. A year younger but from the same parents, there is the
chance he may meet the same end. Though different in many ways
than his sister, he matches her in his sweetness and love.
There are so many ghosts of Peggotty
about the house. As I cooked that first night (many Italians such
as I deal with grief through cooking and eating), I missed my
sous chef who would lie nearby in hopes of a dropped morsel. I
missed having her alongside me while I read or watched television.
Bedtime was hard. She would wait for me by my bed and not lie
down until she got her hugs and kisses and then she would be there
to awaken me. I'll never again look into those gentle eyes, or
hear her greeting howl, or feel her kisses or the touch of her
soft fur. How empty it is without her.
We will each remember special moments
with her and cute images. As a puppy she loved to chase ice cubes
along the tile floor like she was playing hockey. I remember the
times we tried Obedience competition. At one show, Peggotty sat
at the start of the controlled walking and casually watched as
I walked the prescribed pattern alone (she was supposed to follow
at my side). Another time she decided to jump out of the ring.
It all may have been due to my suggestion as I'd tell her each
competition, "If we're going to blow it, at least let's entertain
the crowds." She did.
Memories. Bitter-sweet. That's all
I have now. Grief will come in proportion to the joy she gave.
She gave much joy so the grief is intense. We can have many good
dogs in our lives and even several great dogs, but only one first
dog. Peggotty was mine and I couldn't have asked for a better
first dog to help me through the learning process. It is written:
"Anyone who has ever loved a dog knows that if you let the
spirit of a dog into your life, that spirit lingers long after
the animal itself is gone." Peggotty's spirit lingers. It
will always be a part of me.
As we were taking her into the vet's
office to be put down, I overhead a woman say to her husband,
"Look, that dog has a front leg missing. But it seems so
happy." That was Peggotty to the end: a happy dog who delighted
those around her. She leaves a legacy of love that won't ever
be forgotten. She may also provide valued information to the study
at Purdue in their quest for a treatment, if not a cure, for bone
cancer that will benefit children and dogs.
Peggotty was always considered Daddy's
girl and her loss is very painful to me. I have lost my best friend,
my constant companion, and the love of my life.
Edward