You Can't Go

 It's funny. 

People love to say things like "she'd want you to be happy!," alluding to the idea that I should go and do all of the things Marge loved to do with Red.

I'm not so sure if that's completely true. 


If you knew Marge, you knew there wasn't really an ounce of selfless "go-on-without-me" in her. She wasn't like Shadow from Homeward Bound laying in the ditch telling Chance and Sasyy to leave him so that they could escape and have a good life with Peter. Except for very few occasions, Marge wanted to come and Marge wanted to be involved. (Whether she still wanted to participate as fully as she used to is a different story, but generally, she had a good time on our adventures and we moderated them as she aged).

Minnewaska State Park is on fire. The park is closed. The fire started Saturday, I believe, or at least that's when it hit the news. The day Marge died.

Minnewaska holds a special place in my heart. We've had a handful of really memorable hikes there, including a long hike last year at the end of the 2021 Trail-A-Thon.

I remarked to a couple of people, those who REALLY knew Marge, that it was her way of telling us, from where ever the hell she is right now, that we aren't allowed to go back there for the time being.

I smiled at the thought.

I like that narrative better.  It fits her more.

An earthquake hit northern New Jersey, not terribly far from where we finished our 2020 Trail-A-Thon.

Stay out of there, too.

If something wild goes down in Acadia National Park..

..then I know she means business.

5173 Plus 2

 

To be perfectly honest, I have been mourning Marge a long time. I don't think there was any way I was going to get through this unless I had done so, honestly.

The first time was when she was nine years old and I was about six minutes away from Red's foster home, on my way to meet him. I pulled over near a baseball field and bawled like she had died, even though she was right there in my backseat. Part of that was anticipating the potential big change of adding another dog into my life, but there was definitely a part of it that acknowledged that she was getting older.

The next time was when she earned her obedience Companion Dog Excellent (CDX). I knew that she'd never, ever set foot in an obedience ring again, since we hadn't trained Utility and had no plans to start (she was already around 12 years old when we got the CDX). My boyfriend ran into Qdoba to get us lunch and I sat in the car and cried. I was by no means a big obedience person but it felt like the beginning of the end, in a way. That it was one volume of our story wrapping up. 

After that, I distinctly remember one time when we had come back from Hacklebarney State Park, probably in 2020. She was laying in her grey Sealy bed. I went over and although she wasn't outwardly in pain, I felt her hip flexors spasming. I cried because I knew that what I needed to do was take her on easier, less rocky hikes.

Of course, her Rally Championship last year. The saddest title I have ever earned, because it meant that a show career that spanned more than a decade had come to a close. 

Every time I left Acadia National Park, I thought for sure, "this is our last time here." She proved me wrong a couple times, but this past visit, in May of 2022, I knew it. I felt like I had barely gotten her though the trip in one piece, since she had been lame a week before and was starting to get a little pickier about her food.

And then this summer.. slowly, a wave of nostalgia began to come over me. I started taking more solo walks with her (even though she had always gotten some). I started looking through old photos, piecing together old pictures with recent ones taken in the very same places. Even re-created an old photo from 2008 of her sitting out in the field. A then and now, of sorts.

It's pretty wild to think about her being gone. I'm still not quite sure I believe it. Maybe I never will.

Day 5173

 I made the call around 10AM Saturday morning.

After speaking to the oncologist, I finally felt certain that there was no reasonable path forward. I had tried for a week to bring her appetite back with prednisone but all I got was a really thirsty dog who was wasting away. 

She was weak and getting weaker. A part of me wanted to wait, selfishly. After all, she gobbled up her cod dinner just the night before. Another part of me couldn't bear to see her become any more of a shell of her former self.

We stopped at McDonald's on the way over. Andrew ran inside, and I sat in the back seat with the dogs.  

I thanked her. Told her I loved her.

On the ride over, Red curled up next to her and Marge put her head across his back. One of my favorite things that they did on road trips. 

My mom and sister pulled up at the vet's office beside us. I brought Red over to their car, and they entertained him with a frozen Toppl in thr back seat while we went in.

Marge got out of the car after her first round of chicken nuggets and promptly squatted down to poop. It was solid.. not always a given with her, especially not lately.

She then sniffed the tree nearby. She looked happy to be doing it. She hadn't been interested in much of anything the past couple of weeks, so I stood and let her do her thing.  I couldn't deny her. 

We entered the office. It was quiet. They ushered us straight in to the room on the left. They had a nice thick towel down on the floor, but I brought my blue plaid blanket for her, one that had accompanied us on so many of our trips. I wound up leaving it with her. 

She laid down readily. She was tired.

Our vet marveled at her and all she did in her life, and how she was healthy throughout all of it, aside from her GI issues and a little back pain. She did such a good job in that moment, as weird as it might be to say.

We fed her some more chicken nuggets before she was sedated, and then off she went, peacefully, with her head on my left leg.

We brought Red in. He seemed more concerned with comforting us. He's such a good, sensitive boy. He tried so hard these past two weeks to help, I know it's been hard on him. 

And then off I went, with several glances back, to move forward without her. 

I am broken and tired right now. And I'll have more to say. But for now, I wanted this all in one place. 

Day 5163

 Day 5163.

That's how many days have elapsed since Marge first set foot into my home and into my life.

She's resting quietly in her bed now, at 7:11pm. I just picked her up from the veterinary hospital, where she spent most of the day.

An enlarged spleen was found on ultrasound. We're awaiting biopsy results. The options are not good. Most likely, lymphoma or mast cell cancer. Less likely, an infection. Even though an infection sounds like it would be good news, a tick-borne illness would likely require such long and high doses of antibiotics that we've agreed may not be the best choice for a dog with an already-sensitive GI tract, especially one in the state she's in now.

Friday, she was a mostly normal 15-year old dog.

Today, she is tired. Sedated, still, from the meds and stress of the day. But tired.

The days ahead do not look as though they're going to be easy for me.

But I am trying to be as strong as I can to make them easy for her.