by Sharon Meddley
Spanky was nine years old when diagnosed with lymphatic cancer. His glands ,all over his body, were swollen and his strength was ebbing. He was down to a mere 27 pounds, from a healthy 35 pounds. Cancer was eating him alive. He was given some pills to take at the vet's office and we were told that he would retun almost to normal for about a month or so; his swelling would go down and he would regain some of his strength. Death was being staved of by the medicines in his body. He was nearly alright for almost over a month, but then he started loosing his equilibrium and didn't eat. His sense of balance and his loss of strength were two things that I hated about this disease. It robbed all of cuddling up with each other at night, because he had no strength to jump on the foot of the bed. We didn't want to put him there, for fear that he would fall of and do further damage. (Although cancer is damaging enough). This all happened during the hurricne season and the worst day for him was the worst for us--Hurricane Floyd. He panted a lot. The reason for this, which we found out later, was that his organs were pushing together on his lungs and that if we hadn't taken him to the vet's for his last visit, he surely would have suffocated. As it was it was a horrible month for all of us. The day of the hurricane, Floyd, that is.. he was having diarrhea so bad. His liver was slowly oozing out of him. We went to the vet's the next day after the hurricane, because we saw no reason not to. Why let him suffer! Hadn't the cancer given him enough slings and arrows to his heart as well as ours? I knelt besides him, while at the vet's, and my husband held him gently on a towel. I kissed him and petted him and truly loved him I said good-bye to him explaing how we would meet again once he was gone and that he should play with all the toys given to him and love all around him, for taking him into their hearts! I watched him breathe his last breath onto my face. He was gone and I was so heartbroken, as if he were my natural child, but then he was as a child, not listening and doing as he pleased, wanting to play or be taken outside at the worst possible times; either when it was snowing or raining or down-right cold, or I was suffering from some malady that he didn't understand. He was a precious dog and loved to play and run, cuddle and protect, eat and sleep. On his last day, he even barked weakly when he heard a knock at the door as if to scare off any people. He was a brave dog, right to the very end. He fought a good fight and fight he did! He died on Sept. 17 th of 1999 the anniversary of my deceased father's birth, so in a way, it was a present to him, since they were such great friends! Spanky would have been ten in about two more months.
There is a controversy going on about the existence of a soul of an animal. Isn't his soul also his being, his essence, his personality? If so, then his soul is where it should be. I would rather think this then not hold onto any bit of hope that I maynot see him again. Us humans have souls, and we also have personality, esence and being--it seems to me that an animal should be near Heaven, if not in it, like we will be!
I want to say good-night and not good-bye to my belovd, wonderful companion, guardian, and friend,
and
Thank you to Rainbows Bridge!
>