Hardest Morning of My Life

 

I woke up at four this morning with Apollo dry heaving and having a lot of difficulty breathing. He'd been off his feed, but he was a Husky. We just had to find out what he had decided he would eat now. Right? Right?

We got Apollo nine years ago. He was adopted from our local Humane Society shelter and he was so sick He was eating like a maniac and still losing weight. After a month he was finally diagnosed with Sarcoptic Mange. However, he had heartworms and we had to treat the mange first so it was three months of smelly Sulphur baths every five days.

We got through that, he gained weight and finally began to accept his place in a new pack. At first it was him, Sam, Zeus and Schaub, my son's Beagle. He was the last of them.

I have often said that Apollo, because he was a wild dog when captured, was never going to be the typical family dog. He'd been running around a local park for nearly five years when his illness finally allowed him to be caught and ultimately treated.

He sailed through everything like a Boss, but it left him with extreme anxiety of going to the vet. I would wait for some pet thing with vaccinations offered just so I could get him his shots. We were a couple of years overdue for Rabies.

This morning I woke up to him dry heaving. His heavy breathing started last night. He was getting more anxious as his breathing got worse. We made the decision to take him to the ER vet when he wouldn't even drink water.

They were going to do an exam while we went over paperwork, but we had only had a chance to look at the paper when they called us back and said there was nothing they could do. The vet had found the mass in his chest. 

We both cried like babies. My husband said goodbye and went to settle the bill and make the cremation arrangements while I stayed with him and begged him to let to go and play with Sam, Schaub and Zeus. Run through the trees chasing rabbits ad squirrels, go be with his pack.

He was never the dog that would stay by your side, head on your knee as you sat doing anything, like Sam and Zeus had been. But, he loved us in his own neurotic way. Whenever I left the house he would become almost manic. I can't tell you how many times I'd be at the store or an appointment and have a neighbor call to tell my my mutt was running up and down the street looking for me.

I'd get home and he would be waiting by the garage door for me. whining and nosing me as we made our way inside. When he finally got too old to hop the fence and we put up coyote rollers, he would stress pee and poop everywhere to show his displeasure at being left alone with the cats. He was always happy to see us.

The fact that he preferred sleeping next to my desk or bed was a telling fact.

In the past few years he became close to my husband. He really doesn't like men, and I think that may come from having lived in a park where most males would have felt compelled to catch the beautiful white dog. To the end he had a problem with small children, not wanting them to touch him. He was never mean, but he would nip if they pulled, as if teaching one of his own pups the boundaries.

He loved us. We love him still. We love all of our boon companions. We were so lucky to get him. So lucky we got to have him in our lives.

We made the decision, years back, we would have no more animals than the ones we currently had. Back then it was Zeus, Apollo, and our three demon cats. We're not down to just the cats.

We're gathering up all of the blankets, beds, toys, dishes, etc. Everywhere we move a new blob of Apollo Hair flies up at us. We just dusted and vacuumed. You'd never be able to tell. I'll be honest, a day will come when I will miss that as well. 

It was when I was picking up the water bowls off the floor of the kitchen that it really caught me how much has now changed. No more leaning over to put something in the microwave because the dog's bowl is in the way. No more constant Swiffering of the floor because of muddy puppy feet. No more groaning because he'd peed on his bed in protest of me walking outside to get the mail.

We never realize how much we're going to miss someone we loved with all of our hearts and complained about constantly until they're no longer there. It's wrenching.

Goodbye, Apollo. You will be missed. Thank you for letting us love you.