The Maki family has never really been a dog family, per say. We’ve always kind of lingered more on the side of “cat people.” Cats I feel like can sense this about humans because for as long as I can remember we had an influx of cats in and out of our house. I can think of maybe one cat we actually adopted, my sister’s cat. The rest were just strays that we gave a home to. There was one time when I was very young that we got a dog, a cockerspaniel we named KC. I was the only one that cared for him really and his stay with us was brief. It seemed that we would never get another dog until one day when I was about eleven, my parents surprised my siblings and I with a sweet little puppy.
A playful little Jack Russel Terrier, mostly white with brown floppy ears, big black eyes, and the sweetest little puppy kisses. We all finally settled on the name Saydee. She was a curious little dog that would tilt her head from side to side in wonderment of something. Her breed is known for being incredibly smart and outrageously energetic. She was obviously a smart dog, picked up potty training and human training rather quickly.
It was ironic, because my dad was the one that didn’t want a dog. He always seemed to the one thing stopping all of us from getting one. My mom was the one that wanted the puppy and finally after months of convincing (all without mine and my siblings knowing) she got him to cave, but his one stipulation was that he would get to pick the dog or at the very least the breed. He settled on the terriers because of their smaller stature and high intelligence. For all intents and purposes, Saydee was meant to be my mom’s dog, but she sure did take a liking to my dad.
She quickly became his shadow, following him around the house, dreadfully sad when he left for work and unimaginably happy when he returned. His rather sour disposition toward owning a dog quickly melted when that sweet dog chose to love him above all. She became his little pal and a part of his everyday routine. Wake up, go to work, come home, feed Saydee, take Saydee to park, come back home, eat dinner, and nap. Oh the naps they had.
Saydee, while true to her breed in intelligence, was quite the opposite when it came to energy levels. We had heard stories of JRT’s having an insatiable energy, but Saydee? She was a mellow that enjoyed bee-bopping around the house and frequent naps.
When I was in high school we finally got around to breeding her. To be honest she may have been a bit past her baby-bearing years because while the pregnancy was smooth for her, the birthing was quite a trauma on her. She only had two puppies and one of the two didn’t make it. It was decided that since she only had the one living we might as well keep him, we named him Kato.
Motherhood gave Saydee a bit of a mean streak, Lord help anyone if you disturbed her during nap time, she would nip at you before you even saw it coming. I remember friends coming over in high school and I would always have to warn them, “the one with black ears is friendly, you can pet him, but the one with brown ears will trick you, do NOT pet that one.” She was a tricky little bugger too, she would wag her tail all nice like and walk right up to unsuspecting guests, and just when she lured them into reaching down and petting her, wam! She’d bite them!
As she grew older her mean streak subsided a great deal and it was replaced by this absolutely sweet and loving demeanor. Long since had passed the days of her biting anyone. I feel that she realized somewhere down the line that she rather enjoyed being pet and that people were much more apt to pet her when she wasn’t growling or nipping.
Her naps became much more frequent in her golden years. She would tough it out and try to keep up with my dad and Kato on hikes, but she would usually settle into her own comfortable pace. She always went on the trips to the park. Chasing trains and nosing through garbage ranked amongst her favorite things.
Clearly my need for writing is because she is no longer with us. The past year she had begun to lose weight and would turn her nose up at most foods we tried to feed her. My parents would get a new dog food for her it seemed weekly. She would eat the new one a few days and then quit. The only thing they could continuously get her to eat was chicken. She LOVED chicken. I remember when I was living at home and eating clean. I would cook up my chicken and out of no where she would appear, staring at me with those big eyes, hopeful that I might drop her a piece or two.
This past Sunday I was over visiting my parents when she had a seizure. She had never had one before and the event was rather traumatic for all of us. It had unearthed some rather unsavory memories of my sweet cats passing in me, and in my current state of already heightened emotions, I was in down right hysterics. My dad had to coral Kato, he didn’t understand what was going on and he acted out rather aggressively. In some way I don’t think my dad could handle seeing his puppy like that, and my poor mom… she was the only one of the three of us that could comfort her.
It was all downhill from there. The vet ran blood tests and diagnosed her as being in advanced stages of renal failure. They offered a possible diet that my parents could start her on that wouldn’t reverse the state of her kidneys, but it could help her live just a little longer, maybe six more months. It gave them just a glimmer of hope. One more birthday to celebrate with her, one more holiday season, she may even get to meet my little baby.
The hope was short lived however, when two days after her first seizure she had another one. Each day she grew weaker, she stopped wagging her tail and her steps began to falter. My poor parents spent the days tip-towing around and jumping at any odd movements made by her, would she have another seizure? How long would this one be? How long would it take to help her to come back down and relax? Each of us kids awaiting text messages us, updating us on our sweet puppy’s condition…. sadly it was getting worse.
It was fitting that my dad, the one whom she adored most, was the one who made the decision that it was time. Her seizures were happening more frequently and her quality of life was diminishing. With heavy hearts we had a date. September 19th at 4:45 pm, that is when she would meet her maker.
I don’t know what was worse, the sleepless nights and the uncertainty surrounding her condition, or the impending doom and actually having a time stamp… the sound of a clock ticking away never rung so loudly in my ears.
I have come by frequently over the past week. Each time I left my parents house to return home, I hugged her just a little tighter, kissed her a little more, thinking that each time I saw her might be the last.
I came by today, knowing all too well that this would indeed be the very last time I saw her deep and gentle eyes, staring back at mine. This would be the final time she ever so lightly kissed my shins. This was it. The clock was ticking away.
I can’t explain it, but I feel like somehow she knew. Everyone stopped by to see her today to say their goodbyes to her. For a dog that slept 18 hours a day and was never much of a lap dog, she spent all afternoon walking from person to person, staring up at each one, and kissing their hand. My dad tried to keep the routine as normal as possible, taking her to the park, feeding her her breakfast, and just doing things around the house like normal. She even got to snuggle up to him for one final nap.
I’ve been on edge all week and I’ve been hurting. There are times when my mind lets me forget, when I can actually laugh about a commercial or whatever is on tv, but the nights were haunting. I couldn’t seem to calm my thoughts enough to gain a restful sleep. I’ve been weepy and longing for a different outcome, or a different world where death doesn’t have to be a part of life.
I can’t really describe the pain I felt as my mom and dad readied themselves, they were to leave at 4:30. It was here too soon, it just couldn’t be that time already. I gave her a hug, I messaged her behind the ears and told her I loved her, that she needed to say hi to Homer and Kia for me. I watched them all get in the truck, my dad helped her in and I saw her curl up in my mom’s lap as they drove away. Tears had been streaming down my face but the moment that truck was out of sight I couldn’t compose myself to mere tears any longer. I was alone with Kato, who only seemed unsettled because he didn’t get to go along on the car ride. I sobbed by myself and called Tycen, he offered what comfort he could over the phone, and left me to my writing. Through my writing I would find some sort of peace.
So here I sit, sharing stories of a tiny little heart that housed this huge spirit, that has impacted our lives in ways we couldn’t imagine. Its so strange how quickly these little creatures become such a part of our everyday, even just by resting somewhere near by. Even now across from me is the chair she always slept in. It was her chair, no one else ever sat in it. We put a down pillow on it and a flanel blanket. I can almost see her circling as she always would before finally getting herself comfortable and hunkering down for a long nap… it’ll be like that for a while. Hearing the phantom jingle of her collar, seeing her out of the corner of our eyes, and that feeling that she is sitting somewhere near by, begging for some table scraps. It’ll take time for those haunting feelings to subside.
My heart is utterly broken. I hate this part of life. I know that it is necessary and unavoidable, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. My only comfort is knowing that she lived a long and wonderful life. The saying is, “a dogs life,” afterall. She got to play and nap, eat tasty food, go on hikes and chase trains at the park, and above all she was loved. She had a family that loved her deeply and cared for her to the very end.
Often times we want to be selfish with our love, we want to keep these little souls with us for as long as we possibly can because their love and our love for them makes us happy. At some point that love means knowing when it is time to let go. For Saydee, our sweet little old lady, that time was today.
I know in my heart that when I go, when my clock stops ticking, I will be welcomed by the many who have gone before me, my grandparents, likely my own parents, and my savior. I also feel strongly in my heart, that my sweet kitty cat Kia and my Saydee will be there as well to greet me. All the spirits I love most will be there.
To my sweet girl, I love you. You’ve only been gone for a few hours, but I miss you incredibly already. Enjoy rummaging through those garbage cans in the sky, where no one will tell you to stop. Chase those trains and for the first time, you’ll keep up with them. And those naps you were always taking? May all the doggy dreams you had during each one come true for you. Till we meet again sweet Saydee, you’ll always be in my heart.
October 24, 1997- September 19, 2014
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