Ch Absolut Bullmarket Ezmerelda
July 25, 2001 – February 8, 2011
We knew Mae didn’t have a lot of time left. Her degenerative myelopathy had been accelerating in the last month or so, and her mobility was almost non existent. Just after Christmas, I wondered if we were actually there, but when I sat down next to Mae, she wrestled with me, nibbling on my finger tips and rolling over for a belly rub. You just don’t put down a dog who still has a wrestling match left in her.
This afternoon, I heard a God awful sound coming from the living room. Mae was having a seizure, and was obviously terrified. Even after it ended, she was shaky and frightened. I took her in to the vet immediately, and she seized twice in the car on the way there, once more on the table at the vet’s office.
There really wasn’t another choice to make, when death is so clearly a release from pain and fear.
I would like to believe that there is a bridge, and that Mae and all of my other dogs are there. Mae, like Tessa, will once more be running free and fast, only stopping to flop down on the ground for a nap and a head scratch.
I would like to believe that one day, we’ll get to see them all again, all of our old dogs, all the puppies we ever lose, all the rescues we’ve lost, all the animals who’ve touched our lives. If there is a heaven, and my animals aren’t waiting for me in it, then it’s not a place I could ever want to spend eternity in.