Precious

After months of talking myself (and Jeremy) in and out of it, I finally got the courage up to put Scully, our 13 year old Pomeranian, to sleep.

Scully fell into our laps as a puppy. A friend came to visit and brought her along. When the friend went to leave, I jokingly told her she could leave her behind. To my surprise she did. She told us that she could spend the night to see how well she got along with Mulder, our then 2 year old Pomeranian. They were instantly best of friends. She was here to stay. At the time she was less than a year old and they called her Precious. One, we don't do cutesy names. Two, Precious made me think of Silence of the Lambs. Since we already had a Mulder, Precious became Scully.

Scully was your stereotypical lap dog. She was friendly to everyone, but preferred us. She never disliked the boys but she would never get close enough to actually interact with them either. She was already an old lady by the time Brendan was born so she was content watching him from a distance.

(In 2006 after and unexplained eye injury.)

The last year or more Scully has had bladder issues. It started out that it seemed like the poor girl needed to pee non-stop. She would ask to go out as soon as she came in the house, I swear. Eventually it got worse and she would have accidents. It started to get bad enough that she was banished to the laundry room. She wasn't allowed anywhere with carpet. It had gotten bad enough that every time she stood up she left a puddle behind. I felt like we were constantly cleaning up pee. The last two weeks or so she was constantly soaked in pee. She peed in her sleep, she peed the whole time she was outside, pee, pee, pee. I came home from work Thursday night and I swear there was pee from one end of the laundry room to the other. I hit my breaking point. I called the vet and scheduled an appointment. I went out and dug a hole because I had enough. I told Jeremy what I had planned and he agree.

As the night went on I started to second guess myself and feel guilty. I got up the next morning, let the dogs outside, cleaned up pee, and refused to make eye contact with the old girl. This wasn't going to bother me. I went on with my morning and got ready for work. When it was time to go, I told her we were going for a ride. Oh my God, this 13 year old dog lit up and suddenly looked like a puppy again. I carried her to the car and off we went. I refused to look at her but I could see her out of the corner of my eye smiling because she loved car rides. This wasn't going to bother me! I was driving along and Queen's "My Best Friend" came on. “You’re the best friend that I’ve ever had. I’ve been with you such a long time”, “In rain or shine, you’ve stood by me, girl”, “When things turn out bad, you know I’ll never be lonely” I lost it. Driving down the road crying like a baby. She stood up, came over, and rested her head on my lap. The vet office wasn’t open yet when we got there so we sat in the car for a few minutes waiting for them to open while I pulled myself together. Once I calmed myself down, I scooped her up and took her in. I knew that I couldn’t be there when they actually put her down so I planned to drop her off and pick up her body later. By the time I walked in the girl was on the phone with another patient. As I waited, the guilt set in again. She was on the phone for what seemed like forever. By the time she was off the phone I was sobbing. Sobbing to the point that I couldn’t speak. I was awful. I expected that they would take her from me and send me on my way. No, no, they have to dig the dagger a little deeper into my heart my making me carry her into the back and leave her all alone in one of those cages. I damned near turned around and walked out with her. What’s a little dog pee anyway??

In the end, they did their thing. I know it was for the best. She was miserable. Why make her suffer so I don’t feel guilt? I went to pick her up after work. As I pulled into the vet my heart started racing about having to deal with her body. I was so relieved when they brought her out in a little box. And I mean LITTLE. I had forgotten how tiny her frame was under all that fluff.

Brendan didn't notice until this morning. He's confused by the whole death thing. Owen doesn't notice. Mulder, on the other hand, seems completely lost. He just keeps walking from room to room looking for her. The 15 year old dog is completely deaf so when you call for him he can't hear us and he just keeps wandering. This is the first time in over 12 years that he's been alone. Amos is still here, but Amos wasn't part of their club. Poor Mulder is probably going to balloon up because every time he turns around I'm tossing him a treat. When all else fails, eat, I guess.

Poor, Scully. Rest in peace, pretty girl.