Saturday, December 02, 2006

Eddie Girl


Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.
When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable. All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.
They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster. You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.
Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....
Eddie was my mom's dog. When my mom died last year, I adopted her. I didn't really have room for her as I already had Solomon and I didn't really want her. When I'd visit mom, Eddie always seemed obnoxious, I was always pushing her away. I didn't like her and she was always covering me with dog hair. But mom loved her doggies. It was one of the last things I ever heard her say, "I want to go home for the 4th (of July) and be with my doggies." Mom would die ten days later. The dogs, like me, were orphans now.
We fixed up mom's house around the dogs, Eddie and Abby. They stayed in the empty home cared for by my neice who would stop by and check the food. The walls got painted and the carpet replaced while they watched. The yard was raked and groomed and they watched. The chimney was repaired and the flooring sanded and refinished as they watched. The For Sale sign went up in the yard and decisions had to be made. The dogs could not live in their home any longer. It was time to go.
Where? Who? Would they go together or would they part? No one could take them. Then Sandy said, "I'll take Abby." There was no doubt that Abby was going to a warm, loving home. Half the problem solved. But what about obnoxious Eddie? Brother Dave had his hands full with his own zoo. Brother Scott's home was too small to add a big dog. My place is hardly big enough for Solomon and me. But home she came. I did it because I felt it was the least I could do for mom. She always took in the strays and unloved. Eddie came home with me.
She immediately tried to take over the house, be the alpha, not just over Solomon but over the humans as well. She hoarded her food and many times tried to prevent Solomon from reaching his. Whenever Solomon would want to play, she would snarl and growl and try to stop the frivolities. Mom would have been proud to see how Solomon accepted and adjusted to Eddie. He ignored her. He went about his business as usual as if nothing had changed. And after awhile, Eddie changed. She became more loving and kind. I'd come home from work and both dogs would bound up, tails wagging madly, and greet me with the warmth of love you only get from dogs. They'd follow me around until they were certain there were no treats. Sometimes there were and they never stopped hoping. Their eyes sparkled with anticipation as bags were unpacked. If there were no presents that day, their eyes wouldn't lose their lustre as the were equally happy that the human had come home.
Today, the eyes were closed. I think Eddie knew something was wrong last night. She had taken to sleeping downstairs some time ago, not coming up to bed with Solomon and me, but last night she came up. I lifted her into my bed with promises of healing tomorrow. She looked at me then curled up for sleep.
Eddie had fallen ill some weeks back. We thought we had it licked when we changed her diet. She started eating well and responding in kind when we went for our walks. But then she stopped eating. Last night I knew she wasn't well and made a vet appointment when I got up this morning.
After a brief examination, the doctor stuck a needle into Eddie's abdomin and withdrew some fluid. The vet looked at me and said it could be many things but she knew it was bad. So did I. After analyzing the fluid, she told me that Eddie's vital organs were shutting down. Her kidneys, her liver and her heart. We both knew what was to come next. I asked the doc if Eddie could hold on until Monday when I would have Sandy for support, but the vet said that she was suffering now and might not last until then. I nodded as the tears welled up. It was time.
The vet said she'd give me a moment and left to prepare the injection. I gave Eddie a big old hug and just scritched her like she always liked. More hugs and tears. The doctor came in and said it's time. I held Eddie as the injection went in. There was a moment, I think, that Eddie realized what was happening and tried to back out but then the drugs took effect. Quickly she went to sleep and the doctor said her heart has stopped.
Eddie was off to the Rainbow Bridge.
I'll miss you Eddie, for what you meant to my mother's life and for what, however briefly I had you, you came to mean to me. Run, jump, play. Be happy again.