Time. Sometimes time heals all wounds. Sometimes time doesn’t.
But what is real, is that time passes us far too fast. In a blink of an eye – that time is gone.
Can you get it back? Never. Can you change the past? Not a chance.
Do all the “what ifs?”, or the regrets, or the guilt, make you feel better?
No. It only makes you feel worse.
What’s the remedy?
Do right, right now.
Easton came into my life in the first week of May 2016. He was so tiny, so darling. He was so needy, so loving. He was visibly ataxic. He was off balance, but I didn’t worry too much, because he was after all, a senior dog, and wobbly was normal for senior dogs.
He loved to play with his friends. He loved to sit in the sun. He loved to roll in the grass. He LOVED Blueberries!! He loved to cuddle! He followed me everywhere.
As time went by, his ataxia became worse. He would topple over from time to time. Sometimes, he couldn’t figure out how to flip himself back upright. Like a turtle on it’s back. He required some help.
I had him looked at by the vet, but the conclusion was, that he must have suffered from an old injury, causing some mild neurological issues. But as days past, I noticed his front left leg was not working for him very well. And from there, his ataxia rapidly progressed.
To being this young again, a playful old man, to a dog that could no longer walk. He went to the specialists as fast as I could get him there. We did so many tests. CT Scan, MRI, X-rays, Ultrasound, Myelogram.
Usually, surgery can be done, and I can save them and nurse them back to health. But Easton’s prognosis was so poor. His condition was degenerative, and would only progress. Which indeed, it did.
I tried everything. Acupuncture, Chiropractor, massage, laser light therapy, warm water baths.
For weeks, I held on to this hope. The hope that I hold for every single dog that comes in damaged. The hope that I can fix them, heal them, love them, save them. For weeks I held back the tears, allowing my mind to pretend that the inevitable outcome, could be diverted.
Tick Tock. The weeks went by.
I held on. I held on to him so tight. I never wanted to let him go. My hugs were long. I carried him everywhere. He slept in my bed. Don’t go. Don’t leave. Stay with me. Get up and walk. Please don’t make me choose for you.
Just like that feeling – when a relationship comes to an end. When you thought that someone you loved so deeply, loved you too. But they decided to move on… they decided you weren’t the one. When they told you – do you remember that pain in your heart and stomach? Can you feel that “all off a sudden foggy brain”? Can you remember thinking “is this really happening? This can’t be real”.
Then, reality hits, and hits you so hard like someone just punched you in the stomach. You feel dizzy, nauseous, sick. That sinking feeling, the hurt and pain is real for sure. Maybe if you could just sleep forever, the pain would go away.
Today, I had to do what was right, but felt so horribly wrong.
But I could see the change in his eyes, they went from Bright and Happy, to Sad, Tired, and Confused.
I sat in the vet clinic.
All I could hear was The Tick Tock of the Clock, counting down the seconds of time that we would share together.
I had to say goodbye to Easton. I had to set him free. He was stuck in a body that no longer worked for him. He was quadriplegic. He could only move his head. He was so frustrated, and the cries he made, told me so clearly how frustrated he was. He tried to play with his friends, but could not get his legs to move. He cried. Barked. Begged his body to move, as did I. I had to release him from the body that could no longer run and play.
Run free, my darling little Easton. Run fast, play as hard as you want to. I am so sorry that I could not save you, so we could share more time together.
I only have this….. our time together was full of love, I will try to put aside the what ifs.
Welcome to Dhana Metta 