One week ago I had to put our beloved Bichon Frisee to sleep. Such a gentle euphemism for ending (it felt like taking) the life of the sweet little white bundle who adored each member of our family as only a dog can.
When you’re Jewish, the phrase “To Life!” permeates every celebration. How can I reconcile ending McKenzie’s life with that two-word directive so powerful, it conjures infinite rings of friends and family, their voices and wineglasses raised in affirmation and joy?
Fifteen-years-old, McKenzie was blind. And deaf. Her kidneys were beginning to fail. Each morning I gave her a pill for anxiety and one for an imbalanced thyroid. And one for her hips in addition to the vitamin E and the fish oil. Then she began turning in circles in an obsessive solo ring-around-the-rosy that broke our hearts. “To Life!” yes. But this was no longer life as McKenzie had lived it for a decade and a half.
Before the vet came to our house, I walked McKenzie through each room in our home, stopping by the windows she could no longer see out of, placing her on my daughter’s bed to inhale the scent of the girl now grown who insisted so long ago that she couldn’t, “live one day longer without a dog.” “Send me a sign that you’ve arrived safely,” I whispered into one silky triangular ear, knowing that even if I keened my plea she wouldn’t hear it. I hoped her soul would feel it.
I held her in my lap as the vet administered what we agreed was the most compassionate course. When it was over (will it ever be over, will I ever stop reliving those final moments?) and the vet left with McKenzie’s body, I remained in her spot on the patio beside my husband’s chair. And as I looked out across to the yard’s far corner in what had been her sightline, a small white butterfly flitted into view. Two, three, four, five minutes it perched against the dark green branches of an arborvitae, fanning the delicate white triangles of its wings. Sign? Coincidence? Both or neither, I take that tiny creature’s appearance as a toast — to life made evermore precious by its inevitable twin, to fifteen years of mutual love and adoration, but most of all — to McKenzie.
Debra, I’m so sorry for your loss. What a beautiful eulogy for McKenzie. Even in your grief, you are an exceptional writer.
Thank you, Theresa, for visiting and for your sweet words. A family has all kinds of members, two legs and four.
I’m so sorry, Debra. I recall seeing you chase that little fluff ball around the house a year or two ago. What a sweet little doggie! Amazing how these creatures become such a big part of our lives.
I teared up reading about your loss. Then, I woke up Molly, our black lab, to stroke her pretty head and scratch the itchy spots under her collar.
Thank you for sharing.
BTW, the blog is wonderful. Love the photo. Great info. Lovely writing.
What a wonderful tribute. There’s a special heaven for pets so loved as this! Sending healing thoughts your way …
Debra, I was so sorry to hear about your little McKenzie. I had to fight back the tears at my desk just now as I read your tribute. Thanks for sharing.
Debra,
How we feel for you over your loss of your dog.
Five years ago we went through a similar trauma.
Speckles turned out to have a brain tumor at only four years old! And, she too, ran in circles near the end. It was heartbreaking.
You wrote a moving tribute to McKenzie.
Take care,
Susan & Michael
Deb- Wow…I got through it in two tries. We shared quite a little being. Just this morning I went through many albums of her first four years of life with us, and will put together something for you and me. It did make me laugh, and cry. She was so cute, but has quite a legacy, too!
My Memories of Mackenzie are very sweet. She was a dear, and was lucky enough to share her life with two pretty great families. How enriched was she? I feel good about the fact that she is with her sister, Molly, now, and I am sure they are up to no good…..We will all see them again…I do still feel her… Her Katie is here today for a grom, and she is getting some extra loving from me!!!
You know I understand what you are feeling, and am glad Mackenzie is out of her misery. She also was lucky that you were there with her at the end..That is so important. Thank you for being brave and kind to her.
Love, Cindy
DEBRA, TWO WEEKS AGO, WE HAd TO PUT SPRITE TO SLEEP BECAUSE OF BRAIN TUMOR. HE WAS MY BICHON. UP TO NOW THERE’S STILL ENDLESS TEARS FOR ME, AND I WAS JUST SCANNING THE BICHON WEBSITE TO SEE/ADOPT/ BUY/ ANOTHER BICHON WHEN I HAPPENED TO SEE YOUR WEBSITE. I WAS ALSO LOOKING FOR SOMETHING TO HELP COPE AND WHEN I READ YOUR STORY I WONDER IF THAT WAS ALSO MY SIGN. ALWAYS,MARILYN
That was very beautiful to read. I just lost my Bichon Frise yesterday. She was 11 years old, blind, diabetic, and she had a tumour growing in her abdomen. We kept her until she showed signs of pain. At that point we decided to let her go. I keep crying every few hours or so as I think about her. I just can’t fathom that she’s out of my life…she brought so much happiness. I’ll always love her.