Rest in peace, Mimi
This morning my mother sent me an email letting me know that they had to put down her dog, Mimi. Mimi was about 10 or 11 years old, and was recently diagnosed with autoimmune hemolytic anemia. She’d stopped responding to medication, and wasn’t even able to get up to go to the bathroom this morning.
This was incredibly upsetting news for me. Mimi has been a part of my life since I was in middle school, and it’s always upsetting to lose a member of your family. She was also the last little bit of my dad I had left in this world.
I remember my dad bringing me and my sister to North Shore Animal League, “just to look.” The last time we’d had a dog before that was when I was very young, and it was a labrador retriever that my dad had had since she was a puppy. When she passed, it took a long time for my father to warm up to getting another dog.
Most of the puppies were sleeping, except for one – a german shepherd mix – who was chasing its tail in the cage. My dad interpreted the dog’s activeness for intelligence (yeah, right), and opened the cage (not knowing you’re not supposed to do that). The puppy fell out into his arms, and he was quickly reprimanded by the volunteers at North Shore Animal League.
Long story short, that’s the puppy we ended up getting. She was 8 months old at the time, and quickly assimilated as part of the family. As she grew older, she calmed down, and matured into a lazy but loving dog, whose bark was certainly worse than her bite. As much as she barked at noises outside, she never bit anyone. Not even playfully.
She had her quirks. Even though she hated baths – to the point where being in the bathtub would make her stick her tail between her legs and shiver – she loved playing with the hose outside. She would try to “eat” the water coming out of the hose, and her favorite was the “jet stream” setting, which she would subsequently choke herself on.
Also, she had a habit of pulling your socks off your feet if you weren’t careful. This was a trick that my dad had taught her when she was still a puppy. He would plant himself on the couch, kick off his shoes, and have the dog pull his socks off. After my dad passed, if you were sitting on the couch in your sock feet, or if you stuck your sock feet in her face for any reason, she would try to pull your socks off.
I know she’s in a better place now. Mimi’s not suffering anymore, and that’s what’s important.
I’ll miss you, Mimi. ♥
August 24th, 2008 |
8 Comments
Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that.
It’s always hard to lose a beloved pet, especially after so many years. *hugs*
I am so sorry for your loss.
I am sorry about MiMi. It is had to lose a pet after many years of hving them. I know I lost two cats in the past.
Oh Arwen…
I don’t really understand the feeling of losing a pet since I never had one, but I know when my son’s hamster died, he felt a lot of emotions and wouldn’t stop talking about how much he loved him for a few days.
It’s good to see how you’re handling it though, that you understand Mimi’s in a better place now. My co-worker took Monday off because she had to put her dog to sleep. On Saturday.
This post is a wonderful dedication to Mimi. A few years after I moved out of my parents house, the cat we had for a long time passed away from kidney failure. The feeling of losing a pet is horrible…
Awww, Mimi looked so sweet. You still have Mimi memories locked in your heart while she rests peacefully. Hang in there!
i really want a dog so badly but i think the only thing that keeps putting me off it is that i know i prolly can never handle letting go if i had to. hold on
Awww… that is just so very sad. I am sorry for your loss.
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