Heather was my best friend for 10 years. No matter how down I got, she was always there for me, ever my shadow. She would follow me everywhere I went, never wanting to have me out of sight. If I left the room for but a moment, she would follow.
After going outside, her first act would be to find out where I was. We travelled all over the country together. She loved to take rides. Intelligent isn't a strong enough word for her. I honestly think she understood English, because she would do what I said, even without any real training. We just had an instinctive bond. There are so many memories I have, the problem is, it's painful to think about right now. On January 3rd, the day by daughter Kyra was born, Heather lost sight in her left eye. She had coped with that as best she could, but even then, she wasn't quite the same. As time would go on, she would become more and more distant, until last week, when she lost eyesight in her other eye. Her circling had increased. I did some looking and she had symptoms of a brain tumor. Last night was very hard for me. I couldn't get any sleep, because she kept walking into walls and corners and couldn't find a way around it, and would get scared and start yelling and crying. It tore me up. She didn't recognize me anymore really. There was some familiarity, but not the bond that we had. None of the other words she'd grown to love and perk up to, like "treat" or "pupperoni" or "fries" could even get any kind of reaction. I knew it was time. I left slightly after 7am and took her to the vet. The car ride over was nothing like it used to be. A long time ago, she'd sit in my lap the whole way and look out the window. As she got older, she got too big for that and would ride in the back and just look like the happiest dog in the world. This time she just laid there in a daze. We talked about the past, and how I really didn't want to do what was going to happen, but that I felt and knew that it was going to be the best thing, that she wouldn't be hurt and confused anymore. I met with him and we discussed her situation, and we both agreed that it was time for her to go to sleep. The proceedure wasn't painful, and I was there with her the whole time. The Vet told her that she would know where she was again in a few moments. I held her paw, and patted her head. She didn't react at all, still in her lethargic state. I watched as the vet put the needle in her paw, and couldn't get a vein. I watched him do it again, and when the red fluid washed back into the syringe filled with the bright blue liquid of that medicine that would make her sleep forever, I knew it was almost over. I watched him push the liquid in, instead of watching her. I thought it would take longer than it did, but it was over in an instant. No large sigh, just rapid breathing that she had been doing, and then nothing. He eyes were looking back into her head. I asked if it was over, he checked her vitals and said, yes. I sat there a while and held her paw, and stroked her and talked with her for a while, apologizing. I know that it was for the best, and her quality of life was horrible. It had taken such a turn for the worst over the weekend, and even at the end, it was getting worse, she couldn't even stand on the table.
I love her, and I miss her. My friend, my shadow, my daughter. Rest in Peace Heather, one day we will play again forever.