"Saying Goodbye to a Legend" ~ December 4, 1996 ~ September 10, 2007 |
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We were as one- not just soulmates, but
as a blended unit. We flowed with a grace and agility that it was impossible
to detect where the one ended and the other began.
There was a beauty and innocence that
drew me to you. Over our decade together, as my world dimmed your beauty
gave rise to a newfound security as I saw life through your amber eyes.
Being led in your pawprints, veering and whipping around obstacles was
at times like traversing an agility course while others like dancing.
It was an incredible journey! From a six
month old puppy afraid of your shadow, creating new steps to the break-dance
at every driveway or intersection, to the alertness of a hearing dog replacing
my deafness with your acute hearing. You kept me from danger- using your
instinctive footsteps to guide me up and down curb cuts and around obstacles
even backtracking our path when I got lost or disoriented. Now when I think
about how your distractibility affected our guide training, I see that
the only limits one has are those they create themselves. As you matured
you proved even my own skepticism in error. You were reaching for the stars,
my sweet man weren't you? As our partnership progressed together, your
intelligent disobedience got us out of many a fix from those who thought
stopping behind crosswalks or before turning right were for the other guy.
I recall like it was yesterday, the morning when our sidewalk became an
extension of the road for a young man running from the police. Your quick
thinking really saved my bacon!
Each time I experienced one of your alerts,
it was like doing so for the first time. No one could watch you and miss
your love for your job. It radiated throughout your entire being from your
perked ears- each at their own special angle to the fanning of your tail
waving uncontrollably, not to mention your vocal expressiveness. You were
not done proving your value to me yet though were you? You took things
a step further becoming my own bona-fide medical alert dog. I never taught
you to do this, but the benefits to me were enormous nonetheless. From
alerting to low blood sugar, allergic reactions, avoidance of MCS triggers
and flashing lights- you were my guardian angel.
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Life was not always easy for you, for us.
From a poor start in life to a vaccination accident and poor genetic history,
the end result left you with a condition that baffled me from the start,
but which I was determined to find answers for. At not even 2 years of
age, the thought of losing you as my service dog seemed unbearable but
also highly likely. It was a long struggle sometimes uphill while others
down. Drug Therapy, supplements, gold bead implants, homeopathy, and especially
avoidance of known triggers all played a role in our long productive partnership.
I admit there were times I wondered if I was fooling myself, if we would
ever really find the great control I dreamed of having. When it happened
it truly was magical. I laugh now at the comment from a vet who treated
you, *expecting more than 4-6 months seizure free was expecting the impossible*.
I wonder what she would say if she heard you were nearly 4 years seizure
free when your body wore out. I never imagined in the end that something
other than your vaccinosis would take you from my side.
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In your senior years, I knew our partnership
was on borrowed time. So each outing we took, each morning we got up and
each night as we hit the sack, I made certain to make the best of each
day we had as though it were the very last. We built a lifetime of amazing
memories together in such a short time. I find myself daydreaming
over the years we were a team- taking our special morning walks, thinking
about all of our *firsts*- your first cape and harness, your first hearing
alert to the phone ringing when I was oblivious to it, your first curb
cut you helped me with- OK so planting all four feet and refusing to budge
is not how a dog guides their handler, but you did not know what to do.
All you knew was that momma was in trouble and you had to prevent catastrophe!
Then there was your first public access outing taking me to class where
you even learned to let me know when my name was called. Your first
trip to the mall was in celebration of how well you were doing in your
training. We got pictures taken there where a man with a bigger camera
than ours took lots of great shots of both of us. Then there was the grocery
store where you remembered not to sniff even though it must have been so
tempting. I even love to think about our first bus ride. It may have
been short, but it began teaching us how to best work together using the
lift. It's not just *firsts* that make me don a smile. Remembering you
helping with the laundry in the Wonder Washer does just that. You'd carry
each item to me in the bathroom, plunking them into the wash bucket- sometimes
before I was really ready for them... patience my man, patience I would
say to you. I even miss your idiosyncracies- you know how you felt you
had to tell me when the television was turned off- as if I might not be
aware of the fact that I turned it off! But one vivid memory came just
2 months before you left me, through the help of your holistic vet you
literally came alive again- as though you had been woke from a long slumber.
I just wanted to cry as light entered your eyes and your whole body was
filled with an enthusiasm not present in a long time due to mishandling
of your hypothyroidism. You were playing with me again with a gusto that
I had not seen for nearly a year- like someone shot you out of a cannon!
Though it was short lived, it gave me special moments to hold onto- Thankyou
for that baby boy! A good friend told me, to see a dog play and be happy
again is worth its weight in gold.
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No one thought Met and I would still be
partnered together nearly a decade after our public access began. Here
we were though, thanks in part to my sedentary lifestyle and the bond we
each had to stand by our partner through thick and thin. During Met's life
the lyrics from *Stand By Me* by Ben E. King were never far from my mind.
When the night has come/ And the land is dark/ And the moon is the only
light we'll see/ No I won't be afraid, no I won't be afraid/ Just as long
as you stand, stand by me... Just one and a half months before my wonderful
sidekick said his adieu to life here on earth, I wrote this: *Reality is
that sometime I will be forced to take on another partner, to break the
working bond I have with Met and move towards the future. It won't be easy
for me or for the successor dog, but when the time comes we will know,
it will be the right thing.* Moving on can never diminish the dog Met was.
I know this in my head, but sometimes my heart needs a reminder. Met taught
me so much about what I can achieve, about canine health and the errors
of blindly following everything the veterinary field says, but most of
all he taught me how to love life- living each day to its fullest. Sadly
through this he has also taught me about great loss. There is no greater
loss than that of a service dog who has been your all for over a decade.
It is like losing a spouse, but even more as with this loss often comes
the loss of assistance you have depended upon for so long. Losing a service
dog changes you. Some can't bare to face that grief again and choose not
to continue with another partnership. Others like myself choose the pain,
to have the dance. Garth Brooks conveys this perfectly in *The Dance* ...How
could I have known you'd ever say goodbye/ And now I'm glad I didn't
know/ The way it all would end the way it all would go/ Our lives are better
left to chance I could have missed the pain/ but I'd of had to miss the
dance/ ... When I think of the last month Met and I spent together
as he was stepping out of harness, I am so grateful for that last dance.
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