Losing a Best Friend
We lost our beloved dog Casey a few of years ago. She was a liver and white English Springer Spaniel, and was unlike any other dog. At just 6 weeks old when she joined the family, our kids only 4 and 2 years of age, Casey never behaved like a puppy.
As an intuitive girl with a gentle soul, Casey considered herself a caretaker to my children as they grew up. She was always available for any family member who was in need of her love, wet kisses and all.
Her intelligence far exceeded any dog’s that I had previously known. I often let her off-leash with confidence that she would stay close by and return at the sound of her name. Eventually, I could simply look her way, and she would come running toward me, knowing exactly what I was thinking. Our walks, which Casey led me on everyday of her life, were important for both of us. She kept me active and healthy. Despite this, my walks never compared to hers. As I kept to the trail, a 3–4 mile walk for me often turned into a 5–6 mile run for Casey. She enjoyed galloping off-leash through miles of woods, chasing bunnies, and following scents. Though she always turned back to make sure I hadn’t fallen too far behind her.
Casey wasn’t perfect. When she thought we weren’t watching, she could be a bit of a sneak…like stealing a turkey leg at Thanksgiving and thinking it was okay to eat it as long as she was in her crate. Or the time she and my son were sitting on the couch together and when he looked away for just a second, she took the opportunity to lick his lollipop. I guess she just wanted a taste!
Casey was a terrific dog and best friend. She was with my kids for most of their lives and we all loved her.
She was one of us…an integral part of our family.
She was there when the kids boarded the school bus for the very first time, all the way through graduating high school and going off to college. The only problem with having a pet is that they don’t have the long life spans humans have. When she was 16 we realized it wasn’t fair to let her go on living. I had to carry her up the stairs at night and carry her down in the morning. My once bouncy Springer couldn’t even walk outside by herself. Sometimes she would pee herself and I could tell she felt badly and embarrassed. She was shutting down physically and emotionally, seemingly hanging on just for us.
When it was time for Casey to go we were all there. We took her for a walk on the beach in the morning and bought her a scoop of her favorite vanilla ice cream from a nearby shop. Later, the vet and her assistant came to our house with the equipment they needed to help her pass peacefully. She walked right up to them and welcomed them calmly and kindly. I often wonder if she understood why they had come. We all went out on our deck. We sat down beside her in the same spot that she frequently sunbathed during summers. Next to Casey was a little statue of an angel with a butterfly.
We gave her a Frosty Paw doggie ice cream from the freezer, while we all surrounded her. Casey seemed happier and more content than I had seen her in a couple of years. The vet gave her two shots in her hind leg and we watched as each muscle in her body slowly relaxed. Just as she was able to lick the very last of the Frosty Paw, her eyes closed, and her body gently fell to the ground. Leave it to our ice cream loving girl to make sure she finished her favorite treat before departing this earth!
The vet said, “She’s gone.” We clipped some fur off of her so we could have one last memory of our Casey. They placed her on a stretcher, covering her with a fleece blanket. The vet explained that we would receive the urn with Casey’s ashes the following week before carrying our sweet girl’s lifeless body to their car.
Our family wasn’t quite sure what to do. None of us spoke or moved, standing on the deck in a circle, wet tears spotting the cheeks of all of us. What could we say? As the minivan drove away we stood quietly, looking out into the woods in our backyard. She was gone. That was it. Suddenly a yellow butterfly fluttered by us. My daughter pointed and said, “Maybe that’s Casey.” Our whole family had thought the same thing! Just like the little angel with a butterfly statue.
We all went back into the house and went on with our lives. What a great journey for our little family. The kids received the chance to love a dog and grow up with her. In the end, they learned what it is to lose someone you love. Casey gave us that and so much more. Any time one of us sees a yellow butterfly, we think of Casey, and we know that she is always with us.
