Oil Painting by Pam Cundiff

Coping After Breeze Retired


​Her hind legs stopped working properly. It hurt her to get up or lie down. But once she warmed up she seemed okay. We wanted to put off having hip dysplasia surgery for as long as we could. Then the day came when we knew it must be done. I made an appointment with our vet.

​He didn't think it was hip dysplasia and felt we should go to a specialist. So we went. The specialist confirmed what our vet suspected. It wasn't hip dysplasia. She had Degenerative Myelopathy. Today we understand DM is genetic and can be prevented in puppies by conscientious breeders getting genetic testing done on the sire and dam before mating them.

He said there was nothing he could do surgically to fix her. There wasn't just one place affected. Multiple places on her spine had just simply worn out. He explained she would go down one day and not be able to get up again. He added gently, "When she goes down, the end will come quickly."  

He said regular exercise would not hurt her, it would be good for her, just no running or jumping. So I continued to take her where ever I went. One day my husband brought it to my attention she was slower getting up. I knew the end of her working days was near.
 
We had bought a van years before specifically for Breeze so she could go everywhere we went. I called it 'the dog mobile'. I picked her up to help her in and out of the dog mobile for several more months so she could continue to go with me for that exercise the vet said would help. Breeze wasn't getting better with exercise, my husband contended, she was worse. 

I took all the items out of her backpack so it was empty and light. I continued to take her as my helper in teaching other dogs to be Service Dogs. They learned faster by seeing another dog working than by me trying to teach them without my 'helper'. I not only wanted her with me, I needed her. I wasn't ready to accept the inevitable.

The last trip she made was a round trip from Texas to Indiana and back. I knew when we got home her days of traveling were over. We had taken her in our car, building up the floorboards with quilts, etc. so the floor boards were level with the seats. She was comfortable with pain pills, but I knew that was her last vacation.

​My husband loved her almost as much as I did, so he didn't rush me to sell the dog mobile. It took another year for me to list our little girl's van. Seeing it leave made the raw truth sting.  Breeze didn't realize the significance of the van leaving, but I did. I went into our pool house so my husband couldn't hear me, and I bawled like a baby.

I  had to toughen my heart to keep from going into a depression and staying in a state of sadness. I stopped asking her to work the last two years of her life. But my little girl didn't want to stop. She did her best to try to get through to me, telling me she was still my partner, and no matter how badly she felt she was willing to go where ever I went, do whatever I asked. She was telling me, "You need me to go with you. If the bad guys come, I'll fight for you!" I understood everything she told me.

She would run out in front of me when I'd get my purse to leave, looking back at me, excited and ready to go. But she couldn't go, and that confused her. I had to pretend I didn't know what she was wanting. It broke my heart every time I drove away and left her standing there watching me leave. The memory of her prancing ahead, leading the way to the car, looking back at me asking if she could go, still haunts me.  

I wish I could have ordered her to 'stand down' like a soldier is told by their commander. I wish I could have conveyed to her that I knew, without a doubt, she had the courage to die for me, so she would be 'at ease'. And one day, God willing, she will be given the reward she deserves, if dogs do go to Heaven.  

If God makes a place for the really great ones, Breeze will be there with her  mesmerizing gait, her unfathomable courage, and her unconditional love. (Rest In Peace Breeze)

Did you know?>>>>

When a Christian met a stranger in the road in the first centuries after Christ, to distinguish friends from foes, the Christian drew one arc of the simple fish outline in the dirt with a stick or with his sandal as they chatted.  If the stranger drew the other arc, both believers knew they were in good company and they could talk freely without fear of the Romans who murdered, beat, or imprisoned Christians for their faith in Jesus Christ. 
What this means?
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