Losing a pet

(From the Sept. 10 issue of the Citizen)

We have lost a member of our family. Rocky, the best Doberman pinscher anyone could ask for, had to be put to sleep last week.

Not really having pets growing up, losing a dog after having him be a part of my life for so many years was a new experience for me. It was one of the hardest things that I have ever had to do.

Even though Rocky was about 14 years old and his time really was up, it did not make it any easier to let go. My husband Steve adopted Rocky from Doberman Rescue when he was around 2 years old.

Rocky has only been in my life for the past six years, but in that time, he has become a part of my life and my family.

My son Deven has also had a difficult time dealing with losing Rocky. Rocky has lived with us since Deven was just 3 years old.

I think what was even more difficult than putting Rocky to sleep was seeing the condition he was in before we let him go.

He has always been a big dog, even for a Doberman, so it must have put too much pressure on his hip, which looks like it broke.

He could no longer walk or even sit up. What was heartbreaking was that he soiled himself because he could not even stand to do that.

We could get him in the house, and he settled in a corner in the garage. He looked so miserable that I broke out in tears every time I saw him.

He would not eat and drank very little water. Before this, Rocky was the most sweet, loving, playful dog that loved taking walks. In fact, we could not even say the word “walk” around him without him going nuts.

Food was another thing Rocky loved. He loved to eat. Deven has many memories of Rocky stealing one of his cookies or chasing him around the house trying to grab his ham. Those were really funny memories.

But the Rocky we knew was already gone. To see his personality gone like that was extremely heartbreaking.

He no longer responded to me, even when I used the magic work “walk.” He looked like he was so embarrassed about his condition.

Selfishly, we wanted to hold on to him as long as we could. No one wants to put their pet down, but once it got to this point, there was nothing else that could be done.

What made things worse was that my husband Steve was in Chicago for business that week, so I had to go through all of this alone.

I was able to load Rocky into the car with the help of our good friend Bobby, who came over to help me take care of Rocky. This was something that definitely could not wait until Steve came home.

The night before I took Rocky in to the vet, I made him a chicken dinner. He devoured an entire plate of chicken breast and bread.

It made me so happy to see him eating. It even gave me a small ounce of hope. The next day, I bought him Taco Bell soft tacos, kind of like his last meal. This time, he did not even turn his head.

That broke my heart, but at the same time, showed me that it really was Rocky’s time. It was nothing like the Rocky that would try to jump on the table and steal our food every time we had Taco Bell.

I think the most difficult thing was explaining things to Deven. I did not lie. I did not keep anything from him because I respect him enough to understand the situation.

He saw the condition Rocky was in and I explained that we could not let him continue to suffer. Deven was devastated but also understood why it had to be done.

I only had to deal with one breakdown with Deven yelling to me, “I don’t want Rocky to die!”
Deven went to the veterinarian with us, but opted to wait in the lobby while the procedure was done.

I stayed and comforted Rocky the whole time, telling him how much we loved him and that we would miss him. Then the vet looked at me and said, “He’s gone.” I am not ashamed to say that I bawled like a baby.

But after that, all of Rocky’s pain was gone. He will be able to have peace now.
Goodbye Rocky. You were the best dog anyone could ever ask for. We love you.

My little wild child

(From the Aug. 27 Issue of the Citizen)

Accidents happen, but that does not make it any easier to deal with, especially when they happen to our children.

My 11-month-old daughter Cheilin has been walking for a little more than a month now, and it has been a challenge (to put it lightly) to keep her out of trouble.

The first chance she gets, she will head to the stairs or the kitchen or the bathroom. She is very curious, naturally, and loves to explore.

Well, on this particular day, my 8-year-old son finally lost his top tooth. It had been loose for quite some time, and with the help of my mother, we were able to talk him into letting her remove it.

We were at my mom’s house, which is a two-story, so there is always the concern that Cheilin will get to the stairs.

I was in the living room with her when I heard Deven screaming from the bathroom. He finally had a look at himself with the missing tooth and freaked out. He also did not like seeing all of the blood.

My first instinct was to run over to check on him when I heard him scream without even thinking. I stayed in the bathroom with him for less than a minute, and when I came out, Cheilin was already up two steps.

I ran to her and called her name, and it must have startled her, because she fell forward and hit her face right on the edge of the step.

Then there was a long pause, she stopped, and then the wailing started. I picked her up and saw lots of blood coming out of her mouth.

It was a horrible thing to see on my baby. It even made Deven stop complaining about losing his tooth.

I guess her two bottom teeth pierced her upper lip. On top of that, she has been teething with her top four teeth starting to break through. Those teeth broke through her gum and so she was bleeding there too.

There was so much blood coming out of her mouth, and I felt like the worst mother for letting it happen right in front of me.

It took about 10 minutes to get the bleeding to stop, holding her down to apply pressure to her gums.

We have gates at my mom’s house, but the opening to her staircase is very wide, so we cannot gate that area. We usually fence her into a certain section of the house.

Since I was with her, I let her roam free, thinking I would be able to stop her. I ran to Deven without even thinking, when I should have known that Cheilin would run to the stairs the first chance she had.

Later that evening, when we got home, she hurt herself again. This time, she slipped and hit her head on the floor, which is tiled.

She had a new dress, still on the hanger, and she was holding it and slipped on it. Boom! Right on her head.

Now she had a fat lip and a bump/bruise on her head. But it does not end here.
I decided to take her to the family room, where there is carpet. I thought she would be safer there. I was wrong.

She likes to walk over to the piano, which is in the family room, and hit the keys. She has done this plenty of times without ever hurting herself, but of course, she picked today to trip.
Boom again. She hit her head again on the piano. At that point, I think I was ready to put her to bed just so she would stop hurting herself.

I guess it was just one of those days. I know babies get hurt, but man, I just felt awful. With her fat lip and bumps and bruises, she looked like she got into a scuffle.

Parents cannot be careless when it comes to caring for their children, but on that same note, we are only human. We just have to accept that accidents happen and have the peace of mind knowing that we do everything we can to keep them healthy and safe.

I think the hardest part is knowing that it doesn’t end here. Between Deven and Cheilin, and am sure there will be many more bumps and bruises to come. Just please God, no broken bones!

Children, the greatest comfort

Losing a friend is never easy, but after my friend Jamie passed away last week, I found the greatest comfort in my children.

Through all of my sadness and heartache, my son Deven and my daughter Cheilin still managed to make me smile.

Deven is only 8 years old, but his understanding of the situation made me proud. I told him what had happened and that I needed him to be supportive and to help me out a bit.

He was sympathetic and never complained when Iwas busy and could not be home because I was meeting with friends or when we could not go get the ice cream I promised or when he had to wait to go costume shopping.

“It’s OK mommy,” he would say. And I hate to admit it, but he said those words more times than he should have this past week.

And his silly personality still managed to make me smile or laugh during moments when I did not think it was possible.

He gave me hugs and kisses when I needed them, and knew when it was not appropriate to be silly. He listened while I talked about Jamie and was caring.

The only other time he remembers seeing me cry was when our dog Rocky was put to sleep last month.

Deven really made me proud. He is already developing into a great man.

And Cheilin did not have to do anything to cheer me up. Regardless of how I felt, all she had to do was walk by me and smile and she would warm my heart.

I still cannot believe sometimes just how much joy a small little baby can bring. Times like these are when I truly need to hug my children and hold them close.

There was so much comfort in my heart when I picked up Cheilin and held her. The smell of her hair and the way she felt just brought me a huge amount of solace.

I was amazed by how much I clung to my children during this time. Deven and Cheilin truly have been my greatest comfort.

No words can really describe all of the emotions I have been going through, but on that note, no words can really describe how my children make me feel either.

The love, joy, comfort, frustration, fear and stress I feel for and from my children all compile into the amazing feeling of motherhood.

They have been my rock throughout everything. My children and my husband Steve have consoled me more than I could have ever asked. The thing is, I did not have to ask.

I guess the greatest cure for sadness and grief is love. It has been for me.