Dottie

Our little pup Dottie was only a part of our family for 10 months, but it was as if she’d always been with us. From the very first day she just blended in. She had lived on the dirt roads of Corsicana for some time and when I saw her the very first time, I knew she was coming home with us. The first night she was at the farm, she slept outside but then the next night, when we heard the coyotes howling in the distance; we made her sleep in the screened-in porch. And then we were done for…..she was ours. We cleaned her up, fed her, bought her a blue and brown polka dot collar and when we brought her home, she was better behaved than Addy Mae who we’d had for a year and a half. From the very first day, she and Addy immediately became buddies wrestling in the house and running through the back yard to bark at the neighbor’s Bassett hound. The two of them would head straight to his fence any time they went out the door. Barking and running together was a big part of their day.

Every morning when I came into the den, Dottie would immediately run to the door and want to go outside, but she didn’t just walk out the door. She was always alert and searching the back yard for something. She would slink outside fully expecting to catch a squirrel or a bird off guard hoping for the pounce. We never found any evidence that she ever caught anything, no feathers, no dead squirrel in the yard, but as long as she was able, she never gave up trying.

Even though we had tried to let her sleep with one of the kids, she preferred to sleep in a kennel in the den almost every night from the time she came here to live. And anytime we left the house or went to bed, all we had to say was, “Kennel up Dottie,” and off she ran to her spot. She knew a treat was coming and she was very compliant all the time. She was a super cool pup. She was also ever quick on the food snap up as well. If you threw her a snack, she opened quick and chomped it in mid air. For her, food was serious business. When we took her to the vet the very first time, he told us she’d probably been living on rats and rabbits when she was on her own in Corsicana. So for her food to be served in a bowl or from someone’s hand may have been way too easy. However, she never complained.

When our family went back to Corsicana in August 2009, just a month after we got her, we were all a little worried that she might run off and leave us. But thankfully, she never attempted an escape and we were very relieved. Now looking back I know she chose us on the very first day she saw us. And we had chosen her as well. Not long after we got home from that trip, life got busy with school starting and then fall came and Texas had her pups. And when Clara, one of the pups, needed some extra care, we offered to take care of her. But Clara was never able to get stronger and she died in November. Losing her was devastating. I had no idea what the future held for us just six short months later.

There were plenty of times that it seemed Dottie just didn’t get our “city folk ways.” Last Christmas, we took a picture of all 3 pups in front of the Christmas tree, and her “hat” was reindeer antlers. We could tell she considered it an indignity to be portrayed in such a manner. When Olivia and I looked at that picture recently, Olivia said, “She was just tolerating us there.” I agreed. I think she tolerated us on many occasions. She was a country dog to the core and that’s one of the things we loved about her the most.

Christmas came and went and Olivia, Owen and I, home all day, were looking for something to do. We decided we would begin walking all three dogs in the afternoons several days a week. They loved going. When the leashes came out, they would be so excited. Addy and Dottie were on a harness together and lots of times they’d be dragging Olivia down the road. One day a policeman stopped and asked Olivia if she was walking them or were they walking her. It looked like that a lot, because there was A LOT of dog power between the two of them. On every walk, they gave Olivia a run for her money. During that time, Dottie seemed strong and healthy, always excited and ready to go. She never looked weak or hurting. But, not long after we stopped walking during the afternoons, without any warning at all, something began to happen.

At first, we began to notice that Dottie wasn’t eating all of her food. But still there didn’t seem to be any cause for alarm. She did eat her food, just not as much. But then when we were in Corsicana at the first of April, and she had to have a bath, we noticed that she had lost some weight. But again, we didn’t think it was anything serious. But we did also notice that while we were there, she didn’t run through the pasture like she used to. In fact, she trotted most everywhere she went. But she still didn’t look unhealthy.

Then not long after we returned home, we noticed that her tummy was actually starting to get a little bigger. But then, her stomach continued to get bigger and bigger until it was evident that she was retaining fluid and not gaining weight. Finally on the night of April 28th I knew it was time to take her to the vet. So early the next morning, Dottie, John and I set out for the vet and when he saw her, he immediately told us she was severely jaundiced. He indicated something very serious was wrong. We were stunned. Suddenly, everything was serious. Dottie stayed at the vet that entire day. They ran tests with all results negative and I naively heaved a sigh of relief. She came home the next day with medicine and we believed she was on the road to recovery. But we had to return for more tests the next week.

And so she took her medicine and we pampered her with anything she wanted, Cheezits especially, until it was time to go back to the doctor. Again, they kept her the whole day and when Caitlin and I went to get her, they had taken the fluid off her stomach. And again, naively, I thought she was better. The doctor told us she had been through a lot that day and our instructions were to bring her back the next day to change her bandage. And so we took her home and once again continued the task of nursing her back to health. We thought she seemed a little better, hoped she felt better, but then things began to change. Early in the evening, Dottie began to cough and cough like she had something in her throat she couldn’t get out. She would cough for a few minutes and then stop. I had a sick feeling; but I was trying hard to believe she was going to be OK. As the night wore on and her coughing continued, Owen and I decided we’d sit up with her that night. And at about 2:00 a.m. as Olivia, Owen, John and I surrounded her, it looked as if she were about to take her last breath. But in the panic of the moment, we called her name and she jumped up and ran into the living room. We heaved a sigh of relief again. But as the night wore on, it was apparent that something was terribly wrong. As I laid on the couch in the dark, she would come and stand beside me and I would pet her and run my hand across her face and she would look at me. After doing that for awhile, she would lay down. I knew in my gut she either had fluid in her lungs or around her heart and, if true, was a terrible sign of things to come. At one point she laid down on the floor right below me and as I ran my hand along her back leg, I thought it felt puffy but was too tired and afraid to look. There was nothing to do about it anyway. And so when morning finally arrived, Olivia checked her and said her back legs were swollen. Things were getting bad fast. I called the vet and told my kids I was uncertain of what was going to happen next.

I don’t take dogs to the vet when I think they might never come home. I wait at home myself, hardly able to breathe until I hear the fate. But this day there was no one but me. The kids and I had to help her get in the car. John met me at the vet and when we arrived, she jumped out on her own; but when we got to the door, she put on the brakes. John had to carry her in. I knew the second I saw the vet’s face. And after he listened to her chest, he confirmed that she did have fluid in her lungs. Her breathing was becoming excruciating for her but he told us her heart was still strong. We already knew that.

And so as I sat there trying not to fall apart, I asked him the terrible question to which I already knew the answer, “Is this suffering?” And he said, “Yes.” And then John and I knew Dottie would not be coming home alive. She wasn’t going to live out the rest of that day. She and Addy had run their last lap around the yard together. There would be no more afternoon walks. No more joint barking to fuss about.

We were going to have to let her go.

John couldn’t speak. I was struggling to compose myself. I made the awful phone call to talk to each of our kids and told them what had to be done. All understood and cried and wondered why. And my frustrated shattered heart had no answers.

And then, the time had come to tell Dottie goodbye. And as she lay there, struggling to catch just one breath, I kissed her, told her I loved her, and that she had been such a good girl. One last time, I ran my hand along her perfectly fluffy tail. I’ll never forget how it felt in my hand.

And then I had to go……

I left John to do the rest because it was more than I could bear and he bravely stayed with her until her strong heart stopped beating. And then our vet helped him carry Dottie to the truck so John could bring her home.

As the rest of us sat inside crying and grieving, John and Dale buried Dottie in our back yard. She died the day before Olivia’s 18th birthday. And once again I have to say I don’t understand. The very hearts that Dottie stole 10 months ago are now broken and hurting. Only God and time can heal them. Since she died, I’ve told myself if we hadn’t brought Dottie home last July, she would’ve died a miserable death in a ditch somewhere or fallen to the coyotes we hear howling at night in Corsicana.

I don’t know why God didn’t heal her.

But I’ve told myself it really did matter to Him that she died surrounded by people who loved her as much as we did. I don’t know if that’s true, but it helps me cope with losing her.

She mattered to us.

I think she mattered to God.

She was precious.

We will never forget our dear sweet Dottie.

She died much too young.