Loved you for a thousand years....

Before you read this blog post please do me a favor.  I want you to click on this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rtOvBOTyX00  Then minimize the video, turn on your speakers, and read this post.

I work in a pediatric hospital.
I volunteer at the animal shelter.
I am active in dog rescue.
I am no stranger to death.
I am prepared for death in those situations.
I was not prepared for Addie to die.

Looking back, I think in my heart I knew something was not "right" with Addie when I picked her up at the vet Thursday night.  She was sluggish, and slower than I thought she should be.  I had our vet check her over one more time before I took her home, just to make sure everything was okay with her.  It was.

That night, I did something I've never done for another dog that went in for a routine procedure, I slept on the couch with Addie just to make sure she was not alone, and so I could be right with her if she needed something, administering pain medication, comforting her, and making sure she was warm.  My thought was she would sleep off the anesthesia and she would be more peppy after a good nights sleep.  She seemed slow that morning, but better.  I told her I loved her, she thumped her lethal weapon of a tail on the floor a couple times, and I told the Reluctant Farmer to stay home with her just make sure she was okay.

I received a hysterical phone call at 3 pm from The Reluctant Farmer stating she had went upstairs to grab a pillow off our bed, and Addie had died while she was upstairs.  I was completely shocked and beyond devastated.

To know Addie, was to love Addie.  There was something so special about that dog and her spirit, and perhaps The Reluctant Farmer knew better than me the entire time.  Addie was meant to be ours.
I think my favorite thing about Addie was that she exuded love and happiness, and she was so appreciative of the love and resources she finally had.  Daily we would find her huge mastiff body squeezed into one of the chihuahua's dog beds surrounded by every bone and toy she could find.  She would thump her huge tail on the floor and grin from ear to ear at all the stuff she had managed to drag back to "her bed".  If she was not squeezed in her bed, she was on the couch.  It would make me laugh when I would walk into the livingroom and there camped out on the couch with her huge head laying on a pillow would be Addie. And, I will never forget the weight of Addie's head when she would lay on me at night while I was reading or watching television, snoring to the point I could not concentrate.

She was a one of a kind dog, a gentle giant in every sense of the word, that has left a 100 pound hole in my heart and home.  I hope God has a comfy couch, a secure trashcan, a spare pair of eyeglasses, plenty of toys/bones, and extra underwear, because the goofy girl he called home yesterday will expect nothing less....