Sunday, July 20, 2008

Goodbye, Ginger

I just got home from putting Ginger to sleep. A few hours ago, she collapsed and fluid collected around her heart, which made it hard for her to breathe. Putting her down was unexpected — she was fine up until 8:00 tonight. My parents walked her and fed her dinner and it was business as usual. I was trying to relax in the living room while she barked at the dogs who walked by.

It’s almost 1 a.m. and I just walked into my house, to total silence. I’d gotten used to walking into a quiet house — lately, when I came home, Gigi would be asleep on a chair or the couch or, sometimes, in her own bed. She was getting old, and my arrival wasn’t a big enough deal to merit her waking up.

Now, there’s just silence. And reminders. Seeing her water bowl and her basket of toys and knowing she won’t be there when I wake up tomorrow, these are painful things. I won’t hear her Strawberry Snortcake sigh, I won’t get to flip her ears back, I won’t feel her lean into me when I give her a hug.

This is the last picture I took of her, a couple of weeks ago. She didn't care for photos or dumb antics like balancing toys on her back, but she'd tolerate stuff like that if I praised her and didn't laugh.

I think she liked having my parents and me there as she dozed off on her final slumber. We pet her and told her she was a good dog. She could be really naughty, but she was still the best. I’ll miss my cranky old lady.


Steve said...

I'm sorry to hear it. It's always hard to lose a dog and she sounded like a good one. Take care.


Molly said...

Oh Naomi, I am so sorry to hear about Ginger. I know how much you loved her... and she loved you, too. I remember when you got her and said she "looked like a deer." You gave her a wonderful home!