In memoriam

It's 8:34 AM on Monday, February 4. As I type this, Domi lays about five feet behind me. He's finally settled down, which takes him some time because his back end is so sore, and he's licking his right paw, probably as a self-soothing gesture.

In about three hours, our vet will arrive at the house, and she'll administer a drug to Domi that will put him to sleep forever.

We finally made the decision to put Domi down last week, but I was traveling, so we waited until I got home to do it. I wanted to be here for him and for T, who has been a nervous wreck all weekend. Well, we both have. I've waxed and waned between feeding Domi treats and bursting into tears. I don't know what good I'll be when the vet arrives. A big blubbery mess. But it's the right thing to do. Domi's been a big part of my life too.

Lately, I've taken to complaining about his stench and incontinence. I've been thinking about that this weekend. We haven't had the real Domi in our lives for a few years--the bubble loving, radish stealing Domi. We've had some other dog, and we've grown resentful of him. And it's a shame to feel that resentment at the end of his life. It was a shame to not be able to take him for a walk yesterday or do any of the things he used to love. On the last full day of his life, most of what we could do was wait for today. When my other animals get to this point, when my parents get to this point, when I get to this point--I don't want to turn to complaint and resentment. I want the joy remain more than just a hazy memory.

So Mr. Doms, who used to do 180 degree jumps in anticipation of a walk, who once stole a bagel with cream cheese right off my lap, who would chase soap bubbles around the yard endlessly, who forced me to be creative with my garden fencing techniques if I ever wanted a carrot, radish or green bean for myself, who bravely weathered the attacks of an insane german shepherd named Laika, who ferociously ate Domi-sized pancakes, who hoovered up clumps of freshly mown grass in the springtime, who made lots of Doms-sized friends at the dog park ... we love you.