A touching story sent to me a few days ago by reader JS, in response to an ongoing Sullivan meme.
Fletcher was dying, born with an enlarged heart my parents had been told. I’d driven home to my parents where he lived because I didn’t know what else to do.
I’d brought Fletcher home from my summer job in the OK oilfields where my boss had dumped him out after his kids had grown bored with him. He’d been there three days. He was just a puppy and all us were pretty sure he was going to die. He was too young and weak to hunt like the other dog who’s name that I can’t remember that Otho had dumped. I felt bad for him, but I was going back to school in a few weeks and being that I lived in the dorms a dog was out of the question, especially since my dad had made it clear that he didn’t want anymore dogs. Just get in the fucking car and leave I told myself everyday, except today he was laying underneath my front tire. I grabbed him and threw him into the car figuring I’d take him to the pound or something that getting put to sleep was better than starving to death. He laid up under the middle console of my Ford EXP the half hour drive to my parents never moving or making a sound.
What I expected would happened when I got home with him did. My dad was pissed, yelling at me that he didn’t want any goddamn dogs. I assured him that I’d be taking him to the pound and that he didn’t need to worry. He responded by telling me that if the dog made so much as sound that night he’d shoot him before I had the chance to. I finally got so sick of listening to him that I told him to go get the gun “toughguy” and I’ll shoot him now. Fletcher never made a peep that night.
The next morning as I was feeding him some leftover scraps before heading to work my dad was already on me to take him to the pound I assured him come Saturday I would. About that time my mom walked outside looked at Fletcher and said simply, the dog stays.
Seven years later I was lying on their garage floor next to him on the pile of blankets my parents had laid out to keep him comfortable as he gasped for breaths while I cried and waited for my dad to get home, so that we could take him to the vet and put him to sleep. At one point he got up and headed through the yard that had been his to the gate. I opened the gate and followed as he headed down the path towards the creek where we had always walked. I know he was just a dog, but all I could think was “he’s trying to make me feel better.” When we got to the creek he climbed into the water and looked up at me with a look that to my mind said goodbye. At that point I started screaming at him to get out, to come to me which he finally did albeit seemingly reluctantly. He didn’t stop as he passed me sobbing, he just headed back home. Finally when my dad got home, later than usual we took him to the vet. I insisted on staying with him as the vet searched for a vein that hadn’t collapsed yet until finally he found one and Fletcher went still. I kissed him and covered him up and then my dad and I carried him outside to the truck and drove home in silence.
When we got back we took him out of the truck and laid him in the grave in the backyard where his house had always set that my dad had dug the day before. Then we covered him up as my dad sobbed and my mom stood watching.
To this day I think I should have left him alone in that creek, but I was young and weak and goddamn I loved that dog.
taylormattd
And now I’m crying in my office at work. What an amazing story.
r€nato
what taylormattd said
geg6
Damn. I’m still at work and have tears and mascara running down my face.
Fletcher was awesome. I just don’t know what the hell I’m going to do when our Henry faces that same fate. I was never allowed to have a pet as a child and now, at 53, I have two, one of which is in the process of dying from leukemia. I’m going to be a basket case.
Villago Delenda Est
That’s an amazing, and very touching, story.
Fletcher was a champion in his own way.
Emma
I am SO glad I have a nice private office because explaining to people why I’m bawling my eyes out would be just a little difficult. What a lovely story.
RosiesDad
Thanks for sharing that. As a veterinarian, I get to live these sort of stories on a pretty regular basis with patients I have cared for in many cases from the time they were young puppies and kittens.
It is sad to lose a beloved pet but having them to love makes us much better people. Don’t you think?
Delia
I’m crying, too. Beautiful story. Animals can make us better people. And for JS, it’s probably better he took Fletcher to the vet. Dogs and cats instinctively hide in the outdoors when they’re dying, but they can linger and suffer longer.
JPL
This site brings tears and laughter. What a wonderful story.
Losing anyone is difficult but when those little eyes look up at you the last time, it’s tough. I’ve sworn off animals several times but the last time I was lucky enough to have an animal find me.
trollhattan
Well, that’s done it. My screen resolution just went all to hell and I can’t see a thing. Touching story, made all the better by cranky ol’ dad.
Kristine
I should not read these stories at work.
JS, one thing you are not is weak. Thank you for your story and for giving Fletcher a home.
Liberal Sandlapper
Anybody who can read that and not cry is without a soul or a heart. I can’t even see to fucking type.
eemom
I can only say you should not feel bad for getting him out of the creek because drowning is not a good way to die.
Other than that I am speechless, and the only reason I am not sobbing is that this is literally the third heartbreaking story to come my way this week.
Raven (formerly stuckinred)
@RosiesDad: You are damn right it does. I post this every time someone here loses a pet:
We who choose to surround ourselves
with lives even more temporary than our
own, live within a fragile circle;
easily and often breached.
Unable to accept its awful gaps,
we would still live no other way.
We cherish memory as the only
certain immortality, never fully
understanding the necessary plan.
— Irving Townsend
Scott
I have to go walk slowly around the building where no one can see me. I’ll just take along this handful of kleenex.
Raven (formerly stuckinred)
@Liberal Sandlapper: Iris had some thoughts on just this subject:
I can still remember when I was a girl.
But so many things have changed so much here in my world.
I remember sitting on the front yard when an ambulance went by,
And just listening to those sirens I would breakdown and cry.
But now I’m walking and I’m talking,
Doing just what I’m supposed to do.
Working overtime to make sure that I don’t come unglued.
I guess I’m older now and I’ve got no time to cry.
I’ve got no time to look back, I’ve got no time to see,
The pieces of my heart that have been ripped away from me.
And if the feeling starts to coming, I’ve learned to stop ’em fast.
`Cause I don’t know, if I let ’em go, they might not wanna pass.
And there’s just so many people trying to get me on the phone.
And there’s bills to pay, and songs to play,
And a house to make a home.
I guess I’m older now and I’ve got no time to cry.
gttim
Brings back too many memories. Thanks for giving Fletcher a nice life. Thanks for sending him on his way when it was time. It is so tough to do, but a blessing for the pet.
At times I hope I never have to do that again. It rips my heart out. Yet, to experience that love, we open ourselves up to that. I want the love and will pay the price.
Studly Pantload, the emotionally unavailable unicorn
Shepherding an animal through their entire life cycle can be a very, very difficult thing at the end, but it is a duty, should we choose to accept it, of the utmost honor and humanity.
chuckbutcher
Yesterday I put Gus down, I didn’t really need this today.
Libby
No, I’m not crying. Allergies make my eyes water. {{{sob}}}
Beautifully written JS.
Chuck Butcher
cripes
RosiesDad
@Raven (formerly stuckinred):
This is my personal favorite
Epitaph to a Dog
by Lord Byron
Near this Spot
are deposited the Remains of one
who possessed Beauty without Vanity,
Strength without Insolence,
Courage without Ferosity,
and all the virtues of Man without his Vices.
This praise, which would be unmeaning Flattery
if inscribed over human Ashes,
is but a just tribute to the Memory of
BOATSWAIN, a DOG,
who was born in Newfoundland May 1803
and died at Newstead Nov. 18, 1808.
When some proud Son of Man returns to Earth,
Unknown by Glory, but upheld by Birth,
The sculptor’s art exhausts the pomp of woe,
And storied urns record who rests below.
When all is done, upon the Tomb is seen,
Not what he was, but what he should have been.
But the poor Dog, in life the firmest friend,
The first to welcome, foremost to defend,
Whose honest heart is still his Master’s own,
Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone,
Unhonoured falls, unnoticed all his worth,
Denied in heaven the Soul he held on earth –
While man, vain insect! hopes to be forgiven,
And claims himself a sole exclusive heaven.
Oh man! thou feeble tenant of an hour,
Debased by slavery, or corrupt by power –
Who knows thee well must quit thee with disgust,
Degraded mass of animated dust!
Thy love is lust, thy friendship all a cheat,
Thy tongue hypocrisy, thy heart deceit!
By nature vile, ennobled but by name,
Each kindred brute might bid thee blush for shame.
Ye, who perchance behold this simple urn,
Pass on – it honors none you wish to mourn.
To mark a friend’s remains these stones arise;
I never knew but one – and here he lies.
Raven (formerly stuckinred)
@RosiesDad: It’s gonna take me a while to figure this out!
WaterGirl
I am so glad Fletcher had a life with you and your family, JS.
Mister Papercut, if you are reading this, I hope you will tell us how you are doing after losing your Tucker yesterday.
@Libby:
If you are the Libby who was a front pager for a few days, I wish you would come back…
Phil
Thanks Tim
Raven (formerly stuckinred)
Epitaph to a Dog (also sometimes referred to as ‘Inscription on the Monument to a Newfoundland Dog’) is a poem by the English poet Lord Byron. It was written in 1808 in honour of his Newfoundland dog, Boatswain, who had just died of rabies. When Boatswain contracted the disease, Byron reportedly nursed him without any fear of becoming bitten and infected.[1] The poem is inscribed on Boatswain’s tomb, which is larger than Byron’s, at Newstead Abbey, Byron’s estate.[2]
The opening lines, long thought to have been written by Byron, were found to have been written by his friend John Hobhouse. Byron had originally planned to use just the last two lines as the inscription.[
Kilkee
My girlfriend had an old golden retriever that, after years of declining health, one day just up and walked away to the edge of the neighborhood, which, while urban, borders a fairly steep cliff and then a tidal river. He’d wandered off before but always came back. This time he did not, nor could he be found anywhere. He wore tags, but no one ever found his body. To this day I am certain that he knew it was time, and just went out and laid his burden down.
@Raven: Isn’t Iris just the best?
Hillary Rettig
@geg6. I lost my cherished little Orbit (papillon) to lymphoma at age 16 last month. Like you, I thought I would be a basket case – didn’t even know how I would get through it. But you do.
Yanz
I’m happy to see that Fletcher fell into JS, his dad and his mom’s lives. God Bless Them.
Comrade Mary
Fletcher was an awesome dog who got very, very lucky with his people. You did well by him, JS.
@chuckbutcher: Aw, jeez, Chuck. I’m so sorry.
Chuck Butcher
I just put Gus down yesterday, I didn’t need this today.
Chuck Butcher
@Chuck Butcher: I can’t seem to keep up with WP…
Forgot my damn handle?
ruemara
I was mad at your dad, JS. But I’m glad he loved his dog so much. I think animals have thoughts, feelings and make choices. It does not surprise me that they can and may decide it is time. I knew when Smudge and Butter were more than ready to go and asking me to please, love them enough to free them. I didn’t think I’d be ready for a new pet, then Anne Laurie and SacBlue brought Kage in my life.
and, Chuck Butcher, I’m sorry for your pet’s passing.
TooManyJens
@Chuck Butcher: I’m so sorry to hear that, Chuck.
Raven
@Chuck Butcher: Aw man, what a beauty, I’m so sorry.
John O
Jesus Christ, FSM it all.
I haven’t cried since I lost my job three weeks ago. Or hadn’t.
All dogs go to heaven…
Phylllis
Something in my eye, I’ll be back. (((Hugs))) to JS and Chuck, btw.
Donut
Jebus H on a stick, count me among the tearful after reading that. Ugh.
carpeduum
Thousands just like this one will be euthanized today. That’s just a fact.
JD Rhoades
I’m going to have to give Fargo extra hugs when I get home.
WaterGirl
@Chuck Butcher: Oh, Chuck, so very sorry about Gus. That photo is stunning. They all leave a huge hole in our hearts when we lose them. Looking at that photo, I am willing to bet that Gus had a heart of gold, big enough to match his physical size.
WaterGirl
@carpeduum: You said that yesterday on the thread about Mister Papercut and his Tucker. I guess you still can’t understand the concept of inappropriate, even after someone tried to explain it to you yesterday. Please go away.
a hip hop artist from Idaho (fka Bella Q)
Chuck, I’m so sorry. Mister Papercut, my condolences to you as well. It’s never easy. JS, thank you for giving Gus a great life. He knew how much he was loved.
They leave such big pawprints on our heart. It just looks like I’m crying; it’s a contact lens thing.
Rick Massimo
Oh, they definitely know. When I was 14 I had a dog who was a couple of days from being put down who ran away on a rainy night. When I found her, she was curled up under a bush and absolutely refused to come back to the house with me. I had to carry her.
My then-wife’s cat was in similarly bad shape and ran off one day. Never found her.
Frank the Tank
The same sort of behavior can be seen in humans. I saw it in my dad. Had terminal cancer…the week he died, he had to get mobile…wanted a scooter to get around. The day before he lapsed into coma, he wanted to get out of the house and take a walk. In talking to the hospice folks, they indicated that this behavior is pretty typical.
Raven
And in the end
the love you take
is equal to the love you make
Raven
@WaterGirl: Pie this motherfucker.
spudgun
A moving story…crying at work just like the rest of y’all.
Also a reminder that goddamn, some of you commenters are FANTASTIC writers!!
CaseyL
Tim F/JS: What a bittersweet story! Fletcher lucked out, never doubt it.
Chuck Butcher: I am so sorry. Gus looks like he was an amazing fellow.
Every time I read one of these posts, I think about all the kitties I’ve had, and who I’ve had to make that final decision for. I have no idea whether there’s an afterlife, or whether our animal companions are waiting for us when we get there (I wonder how they’d all get along, frankly), but I have them in my head, forever, as memories.
carpeduum
@WaterGirl: Kudos for pointing out how closely you follow random comments on a backwater swamp blog site. May as well just post “I am a loser” over and over again or announce your pie filter activity….either or…same diff.
Libby
@WaterGirl: Oh, that’s so sweet of you to say. Thanks for the encouragement WaterGirl but I haven’t been invited. However, still lurking here regularly, though I rarely have time to comment.
Libby
@Chuck Butcher: So sorry. {{{Hugs}}}
Ilyanovich
I’ve liked dogs (and animals) my whole life but never truly understood how strong the connection can be until my partner and I adopted a puppy earlier this year. I fucking love that dog and would do anything to protect him. Thanks for sharing this story, and even though I don’t know how long ago you lost Fletcher, my heartfelt condolences to you.
Libby
@carpeduum: Oh crap. Did I just reply to a troll?
JPL
@Chuck Butcher: I so sorry about Gus. What a beautiful picture.
WaterGirl
@Raven: I don’t pie anybody, I just skip over posts by the folks one would otherwise pie. I just hadn’t realized that carpedummy was one of those people, and ended up reading the same offensive comment two days in a row.
At first I thought he might be someone who cares about all the animals that are being euthanized and that he didn’t realize how offensive it was to push his cause on a thread where someone was grieving the loss of their loved one. Now I see that he’s just an uncaring dick. Seriously, who thinks to be on the lookout for a troll on a condolence thread? See, I have learned something today.
WaterGirl
@Libby:
Maybe you were a sub for DougJ or someone when they went out of town, and you never got a permanent invitation through the normal process. I will continue to hope. :-)
Raven
@WaterGirl: I tried to delete my comment but it didn’t take.
WaterGirl
Why did you try to delete it? Your earlier comment made me smile.
JCT
Oh great — I have to go give a lecture and I’m teary. Sigh.
What a great and well-told story.
I spent the last night of my lost Trixie beagle lying next to her on a pile of blankets.
Strong thoughts to all — and what a fantastic life Gus received, just in the nick of time.
squiregeek
You did the right thing. Even if Fletcher was letting go, drowning is an unpleasant end. You gave him a much more peaceful passing. Good on you.
Ruckus
@chuckbutcher:
Sorry that Gus is gone. The stories and pictures of him, like allowing you to drive his truck…. there are no good words.
JS
So sorry about Fletcher. He made a pretty big impression on you and your family. The good ones always do.
No One of Consequence
Generally, I am a pacifist. Fuck with my Family or a Dog, and I may very well be the meanest motherfucker you ever feared to meet.
Karma rarely allows one to be either the Judge or the Executioner, *NEVER* both.
Carpeduum, I am so happy that I do not know you, nor do you know me. Because if I did, I would be sorely tempted to stomp a new shithole through your guts.
Why don’t you do the World a vast and kindly service and go find out what gun oil tastes like?
You Fuck.
– NOoC
Beauzeaux
@No One of Consequence:
This +
pat
We lost our Max cat in the vet’s back room, hooked up to an IV, with yapping dogs next door, left alone overnight, when we all should have known that multiple organ failure was going to be fatal in a short time, no matter what we did.
I wish he had died at home, on my bed, or in my arms.
I hope I don’t make the same mistake with Susy. One has to know when it is time to send them on their way.
Darn, now I’m crying too.
debbie
Typing through tears. I’m not a pet owner, but I’ve known and seen many pets and their human buddies over the years, and I’ve seen enough in dogs’ eyes to know they often have the lion’s share of wisdom in the relationship.
shano
I had an old dog, Bon Dog, on my farm who was riddled with cancer and getting sicker. One day she just took a long walk and we never even found her body. They try to find someplace secluded to die in nature if they can.
I have seen a sarcoptic mange infected Fox try to commit suicide by wobbling in front of cars on the road. He succeeded. So, yes, I do think animals commit suicide occasionally.
icedfire
Therefore to this dog will I,
Tenderly not scornfully,
Render praise and favour!
With my hand upon his head,
Is my benediction said
Therefore, and for ever.
-Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Incredibly touching, JS. Sounds like you and Fletcher made each other’s lives better!
Libby
@WaterGirl: A lot of brilliant writers front paging here already. But thanks. Really do appreciate the support.
Mister Papercut
JS, that was sad but so lovely. Fletcher was lucky to have you, and to have you with him at the end, no matter which form the end was going to take.
@Chuck Butcher: I’m so sorry, Chuck. What a handsome, magnificent guy he looks like he was, though. (And with a fantastic name, BTW. My dad also had a Gus dog that we lost in August. The name will forever be synonymous to me for “a big-hearted love.”)
@WaterGirl: I’m hanging in there, thanks for asking. Yesterday back at work was strangely easier than it was today: feelings of guilt (either that I didn’t do enough when it mattered, or that I did too much when I knew in my heart it didn’t matter) have started to creep in, though between JS’s experience with Fletcher and other comments here, it sounds like second-guessing oneself is par for the course. (Well, second-guessing myself in all things is second nature to me anyway, I’ll work through this with time. Maybe I’ll forgive myself sooner rather than later.)
On the upside, Toby and I are becoming acquainted in a way that I guess I hadn’t even allowed in almost three years of having him with Tucker still around. Depending on how he does (or doesn’t do) as an only cat, I’ve looked into maybe fostering in the new year (since Toby was a fostered cat, I’d like to pay it forward). Crazy Cat Lady powers, activate. (In spite of my nickname, I’m actually a chick. Gender-normative nyms For The Loss; MST3K-referencing nyms For The Win, hehe.)
RosiesDad
@Raven (formerly stuckinred):
The part of the poem that gets me is the beginning (maybe written by Hobhouse):
..one
who possessed Beauty without Vanity,
Strength without Insolence,
Courage without Ferosity,
and all the virtues of Man without his Vices.
I was first given a copy of the poem a few days after I lost the dog who went with me to vet school and this summed him up so perfectly. As it does so many of the dogs I have met over the years.
smintheus
For what it’s worth, animals in pain often seek out bodies of water…both to drink and to lie down in. I don’t know why, but it happens all the time with deer that are wounded. Also, my dog was getting near to death a few years ago and barely able to stand, when he somehow got himself about 50 yards down to our cement trout pond and plunged in. He then began howling for help because he couldn’t pull himself out. I barely found him in time to save him from drowning.
So I doubt that Fletcher was trying to commit suicide. More likely he thought it would ease the pain.
khead
@carpeduum:
You should be drowned in place of Fletcher.
satby
For all of you who have lost your beloved pets, my sympathies. You gave them a home and love: all that an animal wants, and that many never get a chance to have.
Rescuers call it crossing the Rainbow bridge when a pet dies, the bridge they cross to heaven. And for those who believe, their furry companions will be faithfully waiting for them at the bridge when their own time comes.
RosiesDad
@satby:
“If there are no dogs in Heaven then when I die, I want to go where they went.” — Will Rogers
Larkspur
This is weird. Yesterday I ran into a friend I haven’t seen in a long time. I used to house-sit for them and take care of their two adopted Jack Russells, who I adored. I hesitantly asked my friend about how the dogs were doing – hesitantly because they’d be well into their teens by now – and he told me that the eldest one had died recently. He fell into their pool and drowned.
My first thought was oh dear lord, he must have been so scared. Then I thought about it some more. He was 16, he was blind, he’d been losing weight. Blind or not, he’d been running around that pool for 15 years.
So I decided to think that he decided to pretend that the pool was his ice floe, and that he stepped out onto it because he felt it was time.
Of the dogs and cats I’ve known who’ve been put to sleep due to age-related infirmities, the three most recent each willingly accompanied their humans to the vet. One kitty (age 21) had previously resisted going into his carrier. We’d have to surprise him with it, and damn, he’d complain the whole way there and back. But in his last week, when his health deteriorated so fast, he let himself be carried to the car and sat quietly in the passenger’s arms. When they got to the vet, they carried him in. He climbed onto the fleece blankie and then he was gone.
I forget who said it, but I tend to agree with the idea that the reason our companion animals’ lives are so heartbreakingly short is simply because they don’t have to be here as long as we do. We just have a lot more to learn.
(Not that I think there’s any meaning to existence or the universe or whatever.)
Katie
We lost our beloved sammy a few months ago and still miss him–one more in a long line of pets that lived with us and loved us despite outselves over the years.
I really believe that the last, best thing we can do for our beloved pets is to help them go gently into the night.
Sharl
What a sad but lovely account. Like others here, it had me all weepy in the office yesterday.
JS and family sound like fine folks, and the late, much-missed, sweet-faced Fletcher’s quality of character is obvious as well.
WaterGirl
@Mister Papercut: Ms. Mister Papercut, glad to see your comment today. Yes, you have a lot of company in the second guessing department. Best to you and Toby.