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Show Lucy-7 I saw Lucy through her own hard times: a mysterious near-death paralysis from an unidentified poison during a Utah visit, and her recovery, which caused my Utah vet friend to call her a "miracle dog," a broken femur (like mother, like daughter?) after she was tossed some fifty yards by a speeding car, a tumor on her shoulder that I had removed-even when the vet said why should I, it was probably terminal cancer-thus releasing her into several pain-free years. An Illinois friend told me recently that she believed Lucy would stay alive until I could handle her loss, and so she did. She waited, for one thing, until I'd saved enough money to plan my long-awaited move back to my beloved Utah. Our sixteenth year together: Lucy was arthritic and lumpy, nearly deaf, her once-golden eyes like milky marbles. Even so, she smiled and thumped her tail, snarfed down her food, could still catch (sometimes) a gently bounced ball. I worried that she might be suffering, but my new Kentucky vet said she'd tell me when she was ready. Soon after what I guessed was her seventeenth birthday, she lost the use of her hind legs, which distressed her terribly. She was telling me. On our last night together, I piled pillows on the floor and slept next to her, lightly touching. Not normally at ease with such closeness, she relaxed her frantic attempts to rise and accepted this last thing I could do for her. The next morning before the vet arrived for her final deliverance, she enjoyed her favorite jerky treat. When she drifted off, she stirred her legs as dreaming dogs do, back home, running with the lambs, the leaping deer, and the sweet- breathed horses. |