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chele
59 years old
Female
Kansas
Born Nov-24-1961
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Joined: 19-August 09
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Last Seen: 11th December 2012 - 09:08 AM
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chele

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20 Aug 2009
Where do I start? I've lost Callie, she's been a huge part of my life since the first day I met her. There was a little of 12 pups, six male, six female with three black on white and three white on black of each sex. I wanted a female white on black. The first pup was too active, one pup was missing, and the other was a fat lazy pup that snoozed on the little girls lap. I wanted that pup; but when I tried to hold her the pup didn't want anything to do with me! I handed her back to the girl and then felt a little paw scratching my leg. I looked down to see Callie's little face for the first time. I knew she was my dog because she had picked me.

So many memories. Like the time when she was little and she was playing tug-of-war with my pot bellied pigs tail. Nick-the-pig just went about his business, dragging this fiercely growling puppy along with him. As often as I could she and I did "Girls Night Out" on Saturday mornings; she would go with me to all the local shops, always waiting patiently in the car (weather permitting). She loved popsicles! I even have pictures. I bought a Rhoades Car that she loved to run along with as I peddled down the street. I had a box built so she could ride along in it when she got tired.

I always called her Bossy Dog. She got me up in the morning, told me when it was time to let her out, when to let her in, when to feed her, and when she needed my attention. With those beautiful brown eyes she'd will me to take her for a walk, always smiling and flirting with me to get me to do her bidding.

She's seen me through the worst and best of times. She saw me through my divorce, we moved from Kansas to St. Paul,MN and back together. We lived in severe poverty and moved several times, but we were always together, her and I. She saw me through ****** and marrying my husband and accepted living with him and his dog. She's been here every single day when I get home from work.

She's been a loyal and constant companion and best friend for so long, there is a hole in my life and a wound in my heart to big to fill. I can't seem to stop crying. In my heart I knew there was something wrong. I thought about taking her the vet before we went on vacation, but decided having her with me was more important. I'm glad now that I did take her, at least I had those 12 days of being with her.

She had gotten very heat intolerant, and walked very very slowly. I thought it was because we were in the mountains in Colorado and the air is thinner there. She had been getting hard of hearing, but suddenly seemed almost completely deaf. She slept a lot too. She's 13 I kept telling myself, of course she's getting deaf and slow; old dogs sleep a lot. To add to her demise she had somehow managed to pull one of her toenails off on the camper steps. She never even cried about it.

About the time of the dog food scares I decided to start cooking for the dogs. Callie and my husbands dog, Skeeter, were both overweight from the constant spoiling we gave them. By fixing rice, vegies, fruit and meat for them they were able to eat a bigger quantity of food, which kept them happy, and still lose weight - which made their vet happy. About a month ago Callie started leaving her rice, then her veggies and I decided maybe I should start feeding kibble again, since it's higher in calories. I still gave her the meat, but on top of the kibble, but she still would eat her meat and only a little of the kibble.

I knew she needed to go to her vet, so when we got home from vacation I made an appointment with the vet for Monday. The vet had an emergency so I ended up taking her Tuesday morning before work and leaving her there for her testing. Kelly called me at work to deliver the news. Callie had a tumor on her spleen the size of a cantaloupe and her lab results supported cancer. There was no hope. Tears streamed down my face. I took the afternoon off and took her home with me. I spent the time doing the things she loved to do. We went out to the garden and a short walk around in the yard. I took her inside and took hundreds of pictures. I cried and told her over and over how much I loved her, even though she couldn't hear me. At five we took her to the vet. I held her head under my chin with my arms wrapped around her as the vet injected her; she never even struggled. She passed quickly and quietly and suddenly my Callie was just gone. We buried her in the back yard.

I'm not dealing with her loss very well at all. I'm not usually an emotional person but losing her has hurt me deeper than I could have even imagined. I have this crushing pain in my chest that just won't go away. For two nights now I have barely slept, waking often from the hammer blow of remembering Callie is gone. Our little family is greiving with me. My husband is doing all he can to help me through this. His dog Skeeter seems lost.

I know I did the right thing. I know there was no hope and I know it was her time to go. She was in pain. I know they don't live forever. I know I did all I could to give her a good and happy life. She was my light, my joy. She was always a happy dog with a big smile on her face and a jaunty little jig that always brought a smile to my face. I'll never ever forget her. Now I just need to figure out how to live without her. I know this is the start of only the second day without her but how many more of these days do I have to face before the pain fades?
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28 Aug 2014 - 13:33


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