Once again however my curve ball got a curve ball.
Many of you have met Peanut - our feisty 7 lbs of thunder Yorkshire terrier/Pomeranian cross. He has the heart of lion and a personality larger than life. He turned 11 on Dec 30. He was my doggie in the window - my I really should NOT buy a dog from this store but cant help myself - my most wonderful present from my most wonderful (and new) fiance.
He was a ball of fur. Three black dots - two eyes and a nose were all that confirmed he was in fact a dog. He slept under the covers between our feet or on our pillow between our heads. At least until the kids arrived. Initailly he was not a big fan of kids - would not let them touch him - but he never strayed far. He would circle them at the playground to make sure they were staying close to me and place his bum firmly on the ground if I tried to walk somewhere without them. He defended them fiercely (often too much sometimes) and eventually grew to trust them and allow them to bestow him with tummy rubs and ear scratches.
People were drawn to him - he could calm the fears of the most dog shy child and charmed women on his walks who always commented on his hair colour. All you had to do was bend down and Peanut would wiggle his way to his favourite spot between your feet for a little love. He would climb into any visitors lap - wanted or not - and paw at you until you paid attention to him. He was fast - the fastest dog at the beach in his prime - we nick named him sweetfeet - he could outrun anyone. Especially Don and I. He slowed down the last few years but his tenacity and zest never did.
There are many stories I could tell you about Peanut - like the time he got a way from Don and walked out on the ice at Jericho pond. He fell through of course and Don learnt very quickly why no one uses it as a swimming hole. Or the time I was 9 months pregnant and had to chase Peanut around bawling my eyes out certain he would die because he was gobbling down the huge back leg of some poor departed rabbit he had found in the scrub at the beach. Peanut has been hit by a car, gone toe to toe with a German Shepard and and eaten (and pooped) an entire chicken leg. Every time he has battled back like a champ.
Since my diagnosis Peanut has not left my side. No matter where I was he wanted to be there. He always wanted to be touching me and if i was lying down he wanted to be on me. Right on my chest - right on my tumor. He has been my constant companion and has listened to me say all the things i have needed to say, voice all those thoughts I dare not voice and share all my fears that I have chosen not to share.
Peanut had to go in for emergency surgery on Tuesday to remove a blockage in his intestines. The blockage turned out to be a growth the size of a ping pong ball. He was recovering well and I was able to bring him home on Wednesday night. He was groggy and uncomfortable but OK. I gave him his meds at midnight and tucked him in. By Thursday morning it was clear something was very wrong. He had gone into shock.
The vet and clinic staff cleared their appointments and did everything they could. Finally stabilising him. We waited for a few hours to see if his condition would improve. It unfortunately did not.
This afternoon Don and I made the very difficult decision to let him go. We said goodbye to our wonderful, faithful, funny friend. The love and comfort he has given me over the last two months will continue to comfort us but the memories of the last 11 years will sustain us.
R.I.P Sweet Pea.
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