Every day is a gift with Sedona. I learned that from the very beginning when she first walked into my life. Every dog is precious, yes. But there’s something about Sedona that makes her unique, original.
Maybe it’s how she loves unconditionally once she connects with someone. Maybe it’s how she never barks (only when she thinks an intruder is among us). Maybe it’s the way she’ll watch Toy Story like a little kid and pay attention to the Pixar film. Maybe it’s the way she prances around and boxes her paws when she’s excited. Maybe it’s the way she closes doors with her snout. Maybe it’s everything about her that makes her so wonderful. Yeah, that’s it. 🙂
When we first met, she was very anxious. It made sense. She had been abused and mistreated like she was nothing… a worthless object. I was the first one she came up to, in my family, and trusted. It’s like she knew, instantly, I was safe to be around and could be her person. That meant so much to me. To have a sweet, precious dog, who’s been hurt and mistreated by people for almost her whole life, gives me a chance… instantly.
I don’t think she regrets it either. She’s been following me around and excited to do anything with me since the moment she came home with me.
I love her sweet, big brown eyes. They’re innocent and beautiful and sparkle. She’s a pretty little puppy girl. And she’s all mine.
That’s why this has been a huge heartbreak watching her slowly get worse and worse (health-wise).
Sedona had what they call Vertigo in dogs back in February. Dizziness while standing up… barely able to walk. I thought I was going to lose her then. She got better. God healed her. She was never the same after, though. Her back legs started to weaker and weaker.
A week before Thanksgiving, we found out the devastating news. We went to the vet (Mom and me), thinking we were just getting medicine to help our pup with a urinary tract infection. It turned out, that was the least of our concerns. Pain in her hips and back legs had gotten worse. She was paw knuckling, wobbly in the legs, going potty more in the house. We thought we could get medicine for that too and that everything would be OK. We thought…
The vet told us to give her pain meds she would prescribe. All we can do is give her the medicine and keep her comfortable. Eventually, she will become completely paralyzed in her back legs and it will progress quickly. I still can feel the sadness in that moment, hearing she wouldn’t get better. Mom and I cried. We were heart broken. I hate it. It felt like losing my childhood dog, Emma, all over again. Sitting there with tear stained eyes, hearing there’s nothing more they can do for our senior pet. It’s the worst news to hear.
I was thankful that this time, Sedona would come home with us. Emma didn’t. We had to say goodbye in a sad little room as her heart slowly stopped and she peacefully went… laying on a little pink blanket. I felt sick. I remember taking her collar with me, giving her one last kiss and pet on the head, thanking her for all she had done for me. What a blessing she had been in my life.
I don’t want to do that again with Sedona. But, I know it will happen. This time, I do get to have that time with her. Time to give her extra kisses, hugs, cuddles, treats. Time to make what she has left with us special before we say goodbye and she crosses the rain bridge and greets our Emma.
It’s hard to even write this and not get upset.
I love you so much, Sedona girl. I promise to make these last few moments for you on this earth… amazing. I promise to love you and care for you until the very end. With all my heart, I promise.
The Chronicles of Chea K. 