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60/365. Window series.
“There is a garden in every childhood, an enchanted place where colors are brighter, the air softer, and the morning more fragrant than ever again.”
-Elizabeth Lawrence
Though this isn't my favorite photo, it's one I somehow had missed uploading here to Dempsey's set when it was taken last year. It's a picture of him hanging out in the computer room -- being with me, which is where he always wanted to be. It seems fitting then to upload it now as I write this.
On the evening of June 25th, 2009, I said goodbye to my first-born. If Cody was my hero and protector and Ranger my teddy-bear and Tucker my man and Ducky my heart dog, then Dempsey was my soul dog. Because as much as I've loved all of these dogs, I don't think any of them have ever been able to shred my soul the way Dempsey could.
Despite his advanced years of just shy of 15, I'm still reeling. I knew this was coming fairly soon. I'd braced for it last April when he'd hurt his shoulder so badly and neither surgery nor living with acute pain were an option but, thanks to treatments with "gramma" Leslie, he'd rebounded. Still, this Spring he wasn't racing with Tumble like he'd been even last summer and he'd had his first ever accident in the house a few weeks ago. Despite this, there was no doubt in my mind that we had the summer of his 15th birthday at least. We'd even drawn blood on May 23rd and, though there were expected signs of aging, his kidney function readings were okay (though they'd worsened since November), so scheduling him to have a nasty tooth removed wasn't too much of a concern.
Thanks to an altercation between Dempsey, Boomer and Kismet (yes, even fossils still fight when they're Jack Russells), we had to re-schedule his June 11th appointment. Though minor, Dempsey had a few puncture wounds and we didn't want his aging system dealing with dentistry while he was still healing up. And so I dropped him off on the 25th for his re-scheduled appointment and carried on my merry way to work.
And 2 hours later I got the devastating news. As a cautionary measure, they drew blood again and his numbers came back catastrophic. He was in renal failure. There would be no dentistry that day. There would be no 15th birthday. No summer with Dempsey. There would be no bringing Dempsey home.
Hindsight being what it is, the signs of renal failure were there but I'd missed them. Or at least consciously I had. Subconsciously, I'd been keeping track and they all came to the fore once I got the news… the accident the other week, the increasing lack of appetite the last week or so (which we'd attributed to the bad tooth), his throwing up his breakfast the day before his appointment. Still, I wasn't ready. At all.
I went home and waited for Wayne to get away early so we could drive together to the vet clinic. We've been with Carol since the mid-90s and, as these ordeals go, things went very smoothly. Dempsey was still remarkably perky and so, after giving him a sedative, we took him for a little walk to the pond behind the clinic and let him sniff and wander to his heart's content until the sedative kicked in and he started getting wobbly. And then we took him back inside, said good-bye, did the deed and drove him to the beautiful escarpment where he'd be buried. Cody, Ranger and his mother Ducky were already there and Dempsey was buried together with his father Tucker's ashes.
The house is already adjusting. Boomer is happily taking to his deserved and newly ordained role as bed-dog and Tumble's doing her damnedest to get Flurry to engage in "Chase me" after I get home from work. I'm having a harder time of it. Grabbing up leashes to take Flurry for a walk yesterday and choosing a happy Tumble to come along instead of Dempsey, her usual partner, almost brought me to my knees. I'll adjust though too. I always do.