Sadie

There's a spot on the porch where Sadie used to be.

Last Tuesday I took Sadie to the vet to have her killed.  I say killed because nothing else is suitable (in my experience) when you drive a beloved decade long friend and partner to the vet knowing they will not be alive for the ride home.  

Sadie was not put to sleep, she's not sleeping.  She wasn't put down in some wrestling move.  She wasn't humanely euthanized.  The veterinarian warned the shot of anesthesia would sting.  Sadie reacted by aggressively attacking my hand.  I hadn't anticipated such a violent reaction, but what was I going to do? Quickly restrain her by clamping her muzzle shut during the last few lucid moments of her life? No way, I let her fight back.  It was only fair.

Sadie had bitten me twice before in the past decade. The first bite was hours after  I adopted her from the Rockingham County Shelter the first weekend of my senior year at JMU.   She peed in the house and immediately ran under the coffee table.  I patiently tried to coax her out. When that didn't work I foolishly grabbed her collar.  She nailed my hand.  I imagine she had been beat for peeing in the house before and wasn't about to let it happen again.  Sadie looked out for herself, something I respected and greatly  appreciated about her.  So when she wanted to fight the sting I let her.

I believe an immediate death with a .22 would have been more humane.  Having your dog injected with sting, not so much.  Saying Sadie was humanely euthanized would be a lie.   I was selfish and wanted to hold her. Shooting a dog sounds barbaric but having shot a pig and seeing several others shot, it appears immediate and painless.

Sadie was street smart and scrappy.  That never changed and is a large reason why the substantial loss of both her vision and hearing were so difficult for her.  Regardless of her level of trust in me  she didn't have acute awareness of her surroundings.  Sadie started to flinch when I touched her, not from pain but surprise.  In the past month she began obsessively pacing the house. If Sadie wasn't sleeping she was pacing, only to stop and drink or stare at a wall.  Her mind and body were gone.

In the past week I realized I have missed Sadie from the moment she required a leash for her safety, about a year ago.

I tried to find a favorite photo of her for this post and couldn't.  I love them all.  I initially wanted to focus on our happiest memories but there are too many.  What spoke to me most was this photo my mom took today while I was visiting.  Many pictures have been taken on these stairs.  A decade of photos that included Sadie at my side.  Now there's a spot on the porch where Sadie used to be. 

She is so missed.  I truly was blessed to share so many years with such an amazing companion. 

Sadie is buried on my parents property next to my childhood dog Timber.  Beside the garden and across from a patch of zinnias, still blooming.