I write today with a heavy heart. Our little Lucky dog left us. Sixteen years and one month old. Truly it’s the end of an era for my family.
I was seven at the time when my family heard about a litter of Chihuahuas in a rural town not very far from our own. Amanda picked him out in an instant; he was the only brown puppy in the group and happened to be the first-born. I never new life could be as small and meek as Lucky was in the first weeks of his life. We carried him around our necks in an old army hat. We loved him so.
When Lucky grew up some, Amanda and I used him as our muse. We painted his nails and dressed him up. We carried him around like he was a baby. Well, he was…he was our baby.
I was so nervous to leave for college (the movie My Dog Skip scarred me for life), but every time my parents came to visit me, so did my Lucky. When I came back home he’d be waiting for me, and I’d let him sleep in my bed if he woke up during the night. Two Januaries ago, when I left K-State to transfer into my local university, Lucky and I started spending our whole days together. He’d come into my room and I’d lift him onto my lap as I performed my morning ritual of blog reading and email checking. Lucky loved eating Cheez-its, and I’d give him one or two while I ate lunch. At night, he’d curl up into my cubby and fall asleep to the TV playing.
Lucky really started going downhill this year. I hoped he’d hold on for my wedding, and he did (see this story). We all really hoped he’d make it to see Amanda one last time, and he did. Now little Lucky is with our Bogie (our Pug, gone since 2000). It would have broken my heart if he left us after I was already in Alaska; though, it breaks my heart nonetheless.
Death is complicated. In all my encounters with it, it certainly hasn’t been glamorous. As much as I knew he was suffering and I prepared myself for this day, a part of me still felt like it would never come. That Lucky would live forever and ever.
This has been a struggle for my family as Lucky deteriorated, and now the struggle continues as we learn to live without him with us. It’s always hard to say goodbye, but we’ll be carrying the happy times in our hearts.
Regular programming resumes tomorrow.