As the year comes to a close...

The day after Thanksgiving we had to put down our oldest dog. At 16, he had developed doggie dementia, couldn't walk without his legs giving out, developed slight incontinence, and barely ate. He still sought affection, which broke my heart, but mostly he never knew what exactly he wanted (due to the dementia). When we pulled him from the shelter about three years ago, he had had dual hip surgery on his back legs, and his coat was in good condition, but his mouth had all kinds of problems. Whoever had him didn't take care of his teeth, and he had ulcers and sores, and poorly grown teeth. Anytime he'd yawn, it would hurt so much that he'd release his bowels. We had his teeth fixed, leaving him with about 6 teeth, and we worked to fix the bowels.

Two years later, he was an old man dog who just needed to be handled gingerly. He had two floating ribs as well, probably a result of a bad accident that never got fixed. So to pick him up we'd have to scoop up his bottom, cradle is belly, and hold him to our chest so that he could hold onto our arms. He was on calming meds and pain meds for the last year of his life, to keep his arthritis and dementia in check. But his last three months were tough. At times, he would be completely lucid, knowing who you were, seeking your help and/or affection; others, he wouldn't know where he was or what he wanted. So my mom left the decision up to my dad, saying it was most likely the most humane action to put him out of his pain and confusion.

He had a special place in all our hearts - my mom had always wanted a black bandit Chihuahua, and with a perfect apple hear, black face, and brown eyebrows and muzzle, Mr Sweetie was that black bandit. Mr Sweetie loved my dad, though, and my mom watched over Mr Sweetie during the day and my dad took over at night. But I remember when I had my wisdom teeth pulled my freshman year of college. Something was wrong with Mr Sweetie - so he was given his own little (LARGE) alcove in our living room. When I had to be on bed rest for a week after getting all four (crookedly-growing) wisdom teeth pulled, my mom set me up on the couch in the middle of Mr Sweetie's alcove. This way, he would have a buddy and neither of us would be bothered by the other dogs. After that, Mr Sweetie was always my friend.

It's been much quieter the last few days without him, and I know we are all already missing him. It's been a good three years...Rest in peace, Mr Sweetie. We'll always remember you.

As the year winds down, I reflect on the things I have done and or experienced. This year in school, I made Dean's List and was invited into an honor's English 300-level class. At work, I quickly climbed the ladder, making it to the quasi-assistant director position, and now I'll be working full time (while continuing studies). I helped save a little pup from euthanasia - with three legs she's the cutest little love bug I've accidentally let into my heart (check out her blog). My mom started her own rescue, and it's been an amazing experience for all of us. I've gone through ups and downs with friends and my boyfriend, but it looks like we're all in one piece. I visited my grandparents with my boyfriend; together, we went to the Grand Canyon and it was nice to share his first time at the Canyon. I got a second tattoo that reflects on my favorite piece of literature...I am sure in forty years I will laugh, and reflect on that book ("Slaughterhouse-Five"  by Kurt Vonnegut - it says "So it goes" in Coca-Cola font).

I've learned that it is sometimes difficult to find like-minded people...sometimes our friends all of a sudden one day seem so very different from us that a continuation of the friendship feels next to impossible. I've learned that if you love someone, you shouldn't have to and shouldn't want to change them. You just have to love them for who they are, and expressing concern for their safety and well-being is sometimes all you can do. At this point, I guess it's not too early to say; I think I've found "the one" - but I am okay with it all if he's not. It's nice to envision a future together, but I refuse to hang all my hopes on that just yet...

It's been a good twentieth year. I know the years ahead will get more difficult, carrying with them more responsibility and bringing with them more maturity. I am looking forward to the journey ahead, but at the same time very happy where I am right now.