I woke up to the gentle tingle of a tired, happy, little puppy kissing my face. I think it was Lulu's way of saying "thank you" for making her feel better. I could hear her stomach rumble throughout the night and she let out the occasional burp (which was hilarious), but she is on the mends.
It's now 6:30am. I glanced over at my phone and saw a "missed call". It was my father. My dad is planning to visit me in Bozeman so we can do Yellowstone together, but it's so early. I assumed he just had question regarding his flight. He didn't.
Madison (pictured below) is my beloved lab, shepherd, wild, neurotic, clumsy dingo mutt. I found her flea infested, broken and beaten almost 15 years ago. Barely able to move, but hungry to be loved, Madison peaked out from under a car and locked eyes with me on a beautiful, crisp autumn morning. With her tail wagging and eyes full of hope, she crept toward me. That was it. I melted. She found a home.
My father had called to tell me that doggie dementia had set in and her kidneys had shut down. She needed to be put down, today. He was calling to ask my "permission". I never wanted to accept this day would come and more so, I am completely devastated to be so far away. My heart is sore and broken that I can't be there with to hold her frail body when she goes. I knew this inevitable moment would come but deep down I was praying she would just "go" in her sleep. Somehow I thought that would be easier. I am thankful she has my father, but wish my little sister, Jessica, were there with her too. My dad and sister gave her a home on his 6 acres when I moved to NYC five years ago. We tried, but she HATED the city. My soul was fractured, but I knew she needed to live in the country. She would be loved and run free. Madison has been there for me through some of the most incredible and challenging times of my life. I have countless stories. If you have ever had a dog, you understand.
I had to call Joyce at East Shore Animal Hospital and give my OK. Hearing Joyce's voice triggered a complete melt down. I could barely get the words out. Joyce was there the day I found Maddie. I walked in the animal hospital with a blonde, mangle-haired, helpless puppy in my arms on the morning of September 23, 1996. I handed her to Joyce and said please do whatever you need to fix her and give her back when she's better. Funny part of this story is that I "almost" didn't land an incredible job because I was on my way to my "second" interview when I found her (I missed it!). I called the owner of the company and said, "I'm so incredibly sorry but I can't make the interview. I just found a dog and she NEEDS me. I REALLY want the job, so can I PLEASE reschedule?" He let me reschedule and he hired me. Thanks, Kerry.
Madison will be cremated and my father will fly her ashes to me, so I can say goodbye. My head is sore and my eyes are swollen from sobbing. I didn't realize it would hurt this bad.
