Unconditional Love of a Dog

Unconditional love can be a difficult concept for humans.

For dogs, it isn't so difficult. My dog, Lucia, was a champion of unconditional love.

Yesterday, we had to say goodbye to her.

Lucia was a wonderful, very gentle soul. She was a beautiful Soft-Coated Wheaten Terrier that we adopted when she was 5 years old, the same year my daughter was five.

We don't know what her life was like before she came to us, but she bonded with our family very well. Especially to me.

Lucia was my constant companion and friend. She followed me everywhere. Upstairs, downstairs, into the kitchen, into the bedroom, even into the bathroom. Lucia just wanted to be near me.

She was very attached to me. And I to her. I've never felt such unconditional love from anyone, human or pet.

Lucia liked everyone in our family, especially the cat. When the cat was sleeping in Lucia's bed, she would gently sniff his nose and wag her tail. She was the calmest Wheaten I ever knew.

Sometimes I felt bad about how attached Lucia was to me. My husband says she never left the front door when I was gone. Even when I was out of town for several days, Lucia would wait by the door for me to return.

And when I did return home, I would receive such a joyous welcome from Lucia. "Oh boy, oh boy, you're home. You're home!!!"

So with a very sad heart, I had to let her go. I had to say goodbye. She was almost 14 years old. She was so sick and would never recover. It was my job to decide when it was time.

It was the hardest job I've ever had to do.

Lucia is no longer suffering. She is no longer in pain. And I believe in my heart that she knew how much I love her. And how much I will always love her.

Learning To Say Goodbye

I haven't blogged for a few days.

My dog is dying.

Lucia has been my constant companion. My husband calls her my "shadow." She follows me everywhere. Upstairs, downstairs, to my desk, into the bathroom. She's always there.

But the stairs are more difficult now. Sometimes she doesn't follow. Sometimes she stays downstairs.

She's 13 or 14 years old. We don't know for sure. We adopted her when she was 4 or 5 years old. When my daughter was five. They're the same age. Except they're not. Lucia is about 80 in people years.

She's not really eating.

She's not able to keep what she does eat down.

She has a mass in her abdomen.

We're going in today for an ultrasound. To see what kind of mass.

I asked, "Is there ever a good kind of mass?"

Not really.

So, I'm thinking about goodbye.

I don't like this. I don't want to say goodbye. I want her with me.

But it's not about me.

It's about Lucia.

I'm learning how to say goodbye.

Writer's Workshop - Five Dogs

For Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop today I chose prompt #2:

"List the names of five dogs from your lifetime. Write about why one sparks a stronger memory to you than the others."

When I was growing up, our dogs were:

1. Anja

2. Gleda

3. Charlie

My dogs now are:

4. Lucia

5. Lily

Anja and Gleda were Norwegian Elkhounds. Thus the Norwegian names. Anja means "favor or grace." Gleda means "one who is happy."

Charlie, who was a beagle-mutt-mix, got her name from the park where we bought her - Charlotten Park. There was a vegetable stand that said, "Puppies and Produce." Who could pass that up?

So Charlie became our very own.

She was an awesome, small dog with a big personality! She had a beagle nose and a penchant for getting into trouble.

One of her "incidents" occurred when my father was getting ready for a backpacking trip out west.

Charlie carefully opened his backpack, slid out a freeze-dried food package, and ate an entire Mexican Dinner for Two. The next day, she lay around bloated and ill, but with a smile on her doggy face.

Another time, Charlie jumped onto a chair, then onto the kitchen counter, where she discovered a pie. But after one bite of the Mincemeat Pie, Charlie decided she liked the crust better than the inside. She nibbled the entire crust off the pie, leaving the actual pie intact.

But most of all, Charlie was always there when you needed a hug and a friend. Good dog.

I hope my daughter has memories like this of our dogs. But mostly, I think she'll remember our cat and how she crazy-loves his furry self.