We heard what we knew was on the horizon at 2:43 a.m. on September 16. For the past three weeks we had prepared emotionally for this time, but that did not make it any easier. Flint (my husband) walked downstairs and for the next 5 hours stayed at the side of our beloved dog, Weasel who could no longer support her weight and whose breathing was labored. I admit to being too much of an emotional wreck (and a wimp) to join them. Flint actually shared that it would be best for me to stay upstairs. So we all waited for the change we knew would come. At 8:00 a.m. we made the second trip in as many days to the vet who had so lovingly cared for her since we brought her home from the Humane Society in 2000. When Flint and our three kids selected Weasel (the name she had at the Humane Society) they were given several facts -- that she was a German Spitz Chow mix, that she had been abused, that she had been with them for almost 8 weeks and that she was approximately 2 years old. She was such a sweet and mellow dog that she suited our erratic, ever on the run family to a tee. At her first visit to the vet, we learned that she was much closer to 4 that 2, but that she was otherwise in great health.
For the next 9 years, she was the source of much joy and laughter caused by a number of interesting behaviors. First, Weasel would not leave the house without being on a leash (we joked that she remembered a door being opened, running out and never being let in again). Like any Chow, she had a spotted tongue and did not allow her feet to touch puddles of water. She tended to lay down like a bunny rabbit with all four legs very flat to the floor. She also laid down when she ate from her bowl. She also never barked and was not much for playing dog like games such as fetch the ball. Like many loved family pets, she did not think she was an animal at all.
On her last night, Weasel again exhibited some interesting behaviors. She walked all around the house (all three stories) -- as if wanting to experience all parts of her home for the last time. While she started out sleeping in our room, she eventually went downstairs to a corner of the family room to sleep. It was there that she and Flint shared those five hours. Weasel had been diagnosed with aplastic anemia and while her red blood cells were beginning to show signs of regeneration, she had no platelets. But, she continued to cling to life and we got her to the vet and said our goodbyes.
I am thankful for all the moments we shared with our Weasel. I will forever be indebted to Flint for the courage and care he provided to her in her final hours. I will always appreciate the understanding of the veterinary staff as I fell apart and the empathy as they ushered her through with dignity and grace.
