A Dog’s Gift

By Mary Sharry
Sun contributor
Sadie, our black lab, is gone. Embracing her and cooing these gentle words, “You’re such a good girl, such a good doggy,” we set her free. Sounds of comfort and praise. What else could we give to an animal who eagerly gave companionship and love?

Now we look at the photographs, see the beautiful brown eyes. The begging eyes, the eyes that always seemed to ask, “What next? Now what do we do for fun?” Sadie was forever on the lookout for fun. Fun, and food. She was an expert at begging for any food that we ate. If it was edible, and within reach of her tongue, it was fair game. Her tongue could reach far. The plate of cheese had to be placed at the very center of the table, the sandwiches far back on the kitchen counter.
She was smart. Experienced in the art of distraction, she would run to the front window, barking. We’d follow to have a look and that gave her just enough time to get back to the kitchen. Half of a tuna sandwich makes a neat snack. Thank you very much. She knew no shame, and returned to the living room, licking mayonnaise from her whiskers.
Sadie had two beds, one sofa and a rocking chair. She had a favorite place in the kitchen where bits of carelessly stirred food sometimes flew to the floor. She was quick. If not food, a dirty sock from the laundry basket was also fair game. She had mastered the art of unraveling yarn. A box of Kleenex was a prize. Given the chance, she could massacre a brand new box, tossing the tissues everywhere until the living room looked as if she’d plucked a chicken there.
Someone has said that it seems that when dogs age, they do so rapidly. That certainly was the case for Sadie. When Sadie began to move stiff-legged and groan and pace in discomfort, we tried many suggestions and courses of treatment. In the end, though, her condition worsened and she looked to us as if she were asking for our help.
A neighbor said that whenever someone considers owning a dog, they must also realize that at some point the big decision will have to be made — when to let go. When it was time to release Sadie, we cradled her and cooed and sang the good doggy words. Just before the needle was inserted into her vein, she looked me in the eye as if to say, “Thank you.” Her passing was gentle. She simply closed her eyes and we felt her weight give into our arms.
No, it is not an easy decision to make, but there comes that time and we can be assured that the pain in our hearts is great because our love for the animal is great. Such love is a mutual gift.