by David Payne
An Ode to Cassie, and the rest of us
I remember the first day I saw her at her owner's house twelve years ago. She was six months old and the last dog in the litter to sell. She was mostly Rottweiler with a little Doberman and already a big girl, 60-70 pounds and very shy. She hid under the bed and had to be coxed out so I could get a look at her. It was love at first sight.
Having come into the world as an unexpected surprise for Mom and Dad, I ended up spending a lot of time in semi foster care searching for love and acceptance, and my place in life. I learned the value of dogs early on, mine always gave me unconditional love, something I've only infrequently experienced with women. I hope some day that'll change.
Cassie just blossomed as my best friend. She was never mean or destructive, easily trained and very protective. She helped raise three pups, even though she was spade.
A few weeks ago she suddenly started to limp on her right front leg. When it didn't get better after a few days I took her to the vets. She had bone cancer from her shoulder to her elbow. It was pretty advanced by the time we discovered it, and there was nothing we could do to help her. In the end I had to do the thing I most wanted not to do, I had to release her from her pain and this world.
Saturday morning I fixed her breakfast, a London broil with some beef broth and some of her dry dog food. It was a little bit of dog heaven for her. Later we went to the park where she tried to run around, but her leg and her battle with cancer were too much, and she only lasted a few minuets before I had to bring her home to rest, until it was time to take her on her final journey. When we got to A+ vets, I took her in with her blanket and made a bed for her. Though they had misplaced my appointment, they still graciously helped her and I on her last journey. (Thanks girls.) As they gave her the first of two shots I held her in my arms and rubbed her ears, the thing she most loved me to do. She died peacefully in my arms.
As much sadness as I have right now, it makes me sadder still to think of how humanely we treat our pets when it's time for them to die, and yet we can't do the same for people in similar circumstances. Between some doctors who think they have supernatural powers in their hands, or are just trying to squeeze a few more Mercedes payments out of the dying, and politicians who think that mythical forces guide their decisions, we fail as a society to do the right thing for those in the final, hopeless and painful stages of life. I just hope that if my time is at an end and my life is nothing but pain and misery, I can find the release from it that my dogs found when it was their time to die. Hopefully we will be more humane as a society by then.
[URL=http://www.rgj.com/news/stories/html/2003/11/16/56876.php?sp1=rgj&sp2=Opinion&sp3=Opinion&sp5=RGJ.com&sp6=news&sp7=opinion&jsmultitag=news.rgj.com/news/opinion]On Ode to CassieAnd the rest of us[/URL]
David