Today I buried my beloved Lady, an overweight beagle I adopted about a year
ago.

Lady had such spirit - and a diva attitude. She knew her Mommy well - and
knew just how to use those big brown eyes to get exactly the right treat.
She slept by me, in what I fondly called her apartment - an L-shaped area
from the head of my bed, down the side covered with her favorite blankets,
pillows and her favorite stuffed toy, a cow. Each morning, I had to step
over her to get out of bed. She needed her morning pets before I could even
go to the bathroom. (She always opened the bathroom door when I was in
there, even when I tried to shut it. She didn't like to be without me -
anywhere!)

She died this afternoon, around 3 p.m. I had gone to town this morning, just
needing to get away. I was gone until about 1:30 p.m. and came home with a
fresh package of dog treats. I gave Lady her pets - and took her poop, which
also means treats. She got some pets, then went to lay down after gnawing a
bit on my pork steak bone. I went upstairs to find some software when I
heard her cry out in pain, once, twice. I couldn't move fast enough. By the
time I was downstairs, she was gone.

My poor baby had died - probably of a heart attack, and so fast that it was
over before it had even registered. It wasn't until we started to bury her
that I got emotional. Suck it up, cupcake, I thought, I have to be strong.
No tears for this redhead, even though inside I go from feeling hurt to
feeling numb.

I was so priviledged to take care of this creature of God. She was part of
my heart the first time I saw her. All I wanted was for her to live out her
elder years in peace and love. Just last week, I was thinking to myself that
I wanted her to go quickly; I couldn't stand it if she went blind and deaf
and got crippled up so much she couldn't move or enjoy sitting outside with
Mommy.

Lady was probably in her teens, though the owners weren't quit clear. She
had come to the assisted living center several years ago, and was a great
joy to the residents, who, unfortunately, overfed her until she was grossly
obsese. We were able to get some of the weight off, but not enough for her
poor little heart to make a comeback.

With her goes another small piece of my heart, and a little bit of that love
I reserve for my pets, who are really my children. I pray she is fit and
having fun in Doggie Heaven, and that God gives her all the bones her little
heart desires.

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Comment by Sophie Littlefield on April 22, 2008 at 12:44pm
my daughter and i love the picture of beautiful Lady. Our own dear beagle, Stella, is fourteen years old and we love her so much. They are special little dogs.
Comment by carole gill on April 22, 2008 at 3:55am
I am so moved! My heartfelt sympathy to you. I know how you must feel--I would be desolate. You have to know though that you gave her happiness and love and made her final days so content. Surely that is a wonderful thing. And she did go to heaven. Any creature capable of love as dogs are must go to heaven.
God bless you and people like you!
Our dogs are our kids too. So I know what you mean about that.
AGain, I send you love and best wishes--and the strength to get through this.
Our dog Penny (only four) has cataracts which we will take caref of--but as you said, at least your little beauty wasn't blind or deaf or anything.
Take care of yourself. You do have other dogs?

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