This past saturday, September 15, my dog passed away. She was named Izzy, and I loved her very, very much. Sounds cliché, doesn't it? But for anyone who has ever owned a pet, they know that when someone says this about an animal, it's the truth. Izzy has and will always hold a special place in my heart. I don't know how a 13 pound miniature dachshund can break my heart, but I now know that it is very possible.
There was a quote that I am trying to recall right now, and I am not sure who said it exactly, but it sums up owning a dog quite nicely:
When they were going to take her body away, it was at that moment I knew I had to leave. My mom gave me her car keys and I ran out to the car and sat and cried. I held my head in my hands and relived my memories with my beloved Izzy.
She was approximately nine years old when she passed away. We adopted her three years ago from a family friend who was no longer able to adequately care for her. When she arrived at our house she was severely underweight and depressed. She was so skinny that we could see her rib cage. After a few months she gained weight, and was happy as could be. I knew that she loved her life with us, and she loved all of us individually. She spent many nights sleeping in my bed with me, sprawled out, with her butt in my face. Even though I expressed my agitation in those moments ("Izzy, move your butt already!!!"), I never got really upset with her.
I don't have many videos or pictures on hand of Izzy, but I do have a video of her on my blog that I took just a few months ago. The funny thing is that when I took that video I had no idea that in just two months she would be gone. I knew that someday she would die, but it always seemed like something far off.
Izzy's death was so shocking because she didn't show any signs of illness until last Monday night. She started to throw up and go to the bathroom everywhere, and it was really hard to see her so vulnerable. Her stomach bloated up, and I could see the pain she was feeling expressed through her eyes. I'm certain it is something I will never forget. Her eyes were always immensely expressive, and even during our final moments with her when we said goodbye before they put her down, I could still see the spark in her eyes. She was saying how confused she was, but I could also see that she knew it was her time to pass on.
I didn't cry quite as much as I thought I would over the weekend. After we got home from the vet, I was sniffly and bleary-eyed for quite some time, but I managed to bounce back better than I thought. Even though I can feel Izzy's absence, I know she is not gone from my life. I will always have my memories of her, and while it doesn't feel like enough, it's better than nothing.
As I wrote this post, I listened to the song "Honeybee" by Steam Powered Giraffe, and since I'm already playing with clichés tonight, why not I add on another? Towards the end of the song, they repeat the same five or so lines over and over.
I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I love Izzy. I cherish every memory I have of her, and I know that she will always be regarded fondly in my household. I wish that she didn't have to go so soon, but I know that it was her time. Having Izzy as a companion was a rewarding experience, and I wouldn't trade it in for anything in the entire world.
There was a quote that I am trying to recall right now, and I am not sure who said it exactly, but it sums up owning a dog quite nicely:
"No one can break your heart like a dog can."Izzy did break my heart, but I know that it was her time to go. She was sick to the point that trying to keep her alive would have been unfair to her. She couldn't walk, eat, or control her bowels. It was weird seeing my previously lively and capable dog in such a state of decay. We chose to put her down, and on saturday morning at nine a.m., Izzy passed on. Since she was put into an IV that gave her the fatal medicine, I'm not sure exactly the moment she passed away. After I knew she was gone, I gave her one final hug and told her I loved her. My mom brother and I all took turns saying our last goodbye, and when I looked over at the nurse, even she was crying.
When they were going to take her body away, it was at that moment I knew I had to leave. My mom gave me her car keys and I ran out to the car and sat and cried. I held my head in my hands and relived my memories with my beloved Izzy.
She was approximately nine years old when she passed away. We adopted her three years ago from a family friend who was no longer able to adequately care for her. When she arrived at our house she was severely underweight and depressed. She was so skinny that we could see her rib cage. After a few months she gained weight, and was happy as could be. I knew that she loved her life with us, and she loved all of us individually. She spent many nights sleeping in my bed with me, sprawled out, with her butt in my face. Even though I expressed my agitation in those moments ("Izzy, move your butt already!!!"), I never got really upset with her.
I don't have many videos or pictures on hand of Izzy, but I do have a video of her on my blog that I took just a few months ago. The funny thing is that when I took that video I had no idea that in just two months she would be gone. I knew that someday she would die, but it always seemed like something far off.
Izzy's death was so shocking because she didn't show any signs of illness until last Monday night. She started to throw up and go to the bathroom everywhere, and it was really hard to see her so vulnerable. Her stomach bloated up, and I could see the pain she was feeling expressed through her eyes. I'm certain it is something I will never forget. Her eyes were always immensely expressive, and even during our final moments with her when we said goodbye before they put her down, I could still see the spark in her eyes. She was saying how confused she was, but I could also see that she knew it was her time to pass on.
I didn't cry quite as much as I thought I would over the weekend. After we got home from the vet, I was sniffly and bleary-eyed for quite some time, but I managed to bounce back better than I thought. Even though I can feel Izzy's absence, I know she is not gone from my life. I will always have my memories of her, and while it doesn't feel like enough, it's better than nothing.
As I wrote this post, I listened to the song "Honeybee" by Steam Powered Giraffe, and since I'm already playing with clichés tonight, why not I add on another? Towards the end of the song, they repeat the same five or so lines over and over.
"Hello, goodbye, t'was nice to know you. How I find myself without you... that I'll never know. I let myself go. But what do I know? Now you have to go."Listening to this made me think of Izzy, and loving a dog in general. No matter what happens after a dog's passing, I have not met a single person who regretted owning their pet. There is something about owning a dog that allows you to release your inhibitions, and love something without rhyme or reason. It remains a mystery why they touch our hearts in this way, and how we manage to carry on even though it was their time to pass on. These lyrics made me think of this, and I'm not sure why.
I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I love Izzy. I cherish every memory I have of her, and I know that she will always be regarded fondly in my household. I wish that she didn't have to go so soon, but I know that it was her time. Having Izzy as a companion was a rewarding experience, and I wouldn't trade it in for anything in the entire world.
Hannah, I'm really sorry that you had to put Izzy down. I had to do the same to my dog a couple years ago. It broke my heart, and I still can't see myself loving another dog as much as I loved Oscar. I hope that you feel better.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry Hannah, I also had to put down my dog Ozzie and it was the toughest thing I've ever had to do, so I feel your pain. I hope you feel better. After Ozzie died I listen to Hannah Montana's If we were a movie. It didn't make feel better just I'd include little laugh for you.
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