It's Okay.

I've been reading "When Breath Becomes Air" by Paul Kalanithi.  It's a book from the "Sociology of Death" section on Amazon.  Having been reading such literary content leads me to reflect on my first and most recent experience with death.  I've lost friends, family, and beloved pets before, but i have never watched someone take their last breath.  This someone wasn't a person though, it was a dog.  (I'd argue a kind of person.)  And though i had spent only six months getting to know this dog, i loved this dog.  I love animals.  Period.  Being able to spend any amount of time with an animal, i will form a bond.  I will care deeply about that animal.  Call it a weakness.  If someone ever needed to make me tell them where the gold is hidden, all they would have to do is threaten to harm an animal in front of me, and i will tell them.  There.  My secret is out.

Within six months, i watched Dutchess, a thirteen year old beagle mix, go from bouncy-crazy for hotdogs and general kitchen scrappings, to barely eating anything.  I watched Dutchess go from HOWLING at the notion of a treat or a car ride, to barely caring to lift her head.  Many times I watched Dutchess catch treats in her mouth that were thrown from any direction.  Not a single one hit the floor.  Then one day they bounced off her ear or her nose, and she had trouble finding where the treat landed.

It was a sharp decline.  Maybe it was a stroke that took her downhill.  Maybe she had a tumor in her swollen belly.  Maybe it was simply age, but she was ready to go.  Her body was ready.  Even her eyes expressed the desire to finally be able to lay down in comfort.

When she began to go, we lay her down on her left side.  As i faced her, I held her front paws in my left hand and her face in my right. I stroke her jaw line with my thumb.  The Vet Techs left the room. The door was closing when an audible cry left my face which was buried in her neck.  Her body pushed out the rest of the air it contained.  I whisper-cried to her, "It's okay.  It's okay."  As her eyes turned black and her heart slowed to a stop, I continued to rub her ears and her face, and kiss her head.  I ran my hand down her belly.  The feel of her was all i experienced by this point, because i could not see through the ocean in my eyes.  I smelled her.  She smelled like the fresh outdoors.  A scent i always loved when i breathed her in while she was curled up as my little spoon.

It's been a few months, now.  I look at her pictures.  I think of her often, both at her best and in those last moments.  Whenever she crosses my mind, my eyes well up and i have to whisper to myself "It's okay. It's okay."