In happier times: Sophie and Farley chow down on some rawhide treats.This morning Jonnene and I walked Sophie around the neighborhood. I took Farley's collar and leash with me to represent him on the walk. Yeah, I kept his collar...I figured, you came into this world naked, you should go out naked. And it was something for me to keep and remember him by. He'd worn it for almost 9 years and its red color was quite faded now. I'll probably carry the collar & leash on most of our walks for now but eventually I'll stop. Or maybe not. Who knows?
Anyway, we got home late Saturday night and Farley was laid out on his bed in the laundry room, looking like he was asleep. Jamie had brought him back from the emergency vet's office when we told her we wanted him so we could bury him. The house was very cold, set that way by Jamie to help preserve his body until we could bury him on Sunday morning. I rubbed his head and played with his left ear that was up in the air as if he had heard us come in. I told him that it was good to see him and that we missed him and that I was sad that this would be the last night we'd spend together in the house.
From what we've been told by my mom and from Jamie, and later today by my veterinarian, Farley's death was unavoidable. It looks like there was a series of strokes that did him in. Without going into a lot of details (which I might do in later posts), he didn't seem to have suffered much and probably didn't experience much pain. The strokes paralyzed his hind quarters and slowly worked their way up his body over the last few hours of his life. His organs began to shut down until the end when he probably was already unconscious when the stroke finally got to his brain (he had a seizure prior to that). Jamie had brought him to her house and we're sure he was comfortable being around people and other dogs he knew. The important thing was that he wasn't alone and I've been told that it was probably a good thing that I wasn't there for all that. I believe they're right but I always wanted my face to be the last one that Farley would see in the end and that didn't happen.
We buried the Farbar in the back yard of my old house in Bossier City. He lived there for 11 of his 13 years so it was a familiar locale and it was right that he end up there. He had a spot between the house and the storage shed where, for many years, he would scratch his back by laying on his back in the grass and flipping side-to-side, grunting as he did so. He'd leave these perfect little "crop circles" and the flatten grass would stay that way all summer. So I put him there because that part of the yard gave him the most pleasure. Jonnene and I wrapped him up in an old red blanket and I cut some hair from the scruff of his neck to keep, then took off his collar. Mom and Jim came over before we covered him up so they could pay their respects. As we filled in the hole, I laid the last shovel-full of dirt that would completely cover the blanket from our sight. At that point he was totally gone from us and I had to cry a bit.
Okay, so the house is now empty and Farley's absence just hangs over the place. Jonnene feels it. Her dog, Sophie, and the cat, Taz, also feel it. Taz has been making these moaning types of mews, and Sophie has been mostly sleeping in the middle of the bare floor. They know things are different and Sophie probably knows it more since she saw the whole thing from the beginning and it's too bad that she can't talk to tell us how it all started. As for me, I've found it hard to stand up straight all day and it's not from all the digging I did Sunday. I can feel sadness weighing all over me though I feel okay otherwise. Talking to the vet helped a lot and I know that there was nothing that any of us could have done to prevent this. That makes it easier to deal with, that it's nobody's fault...there was no coulda's, woulda's or shoulda's that would have made a difference. The thing to take from all this is that Farley made a difference in my life and I hope I made a difference in his.
Of course, the absence was really driven home when Jonnene drove in from work today and Sophie jumped up to greet her at the door as she usually does (and as Farley used to). I said, "Mommy's home, Far-.....Sophie." It came out of my mouth so naturally. Jonnene even remarked that it seemed strange to be greeted by only one dog, that it wasn't right.
By the way, I will eventually get to our trip to Lubbock. Lots to tell there and my Centenary kids did a great job. I'm not going to overlook them so they'll be in my next post.
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