It is interesting how we let little things bother us to the point that we do not appreciate what we have. I have complained about our dog Woody almost from the day we got him. The dog hair, muddy paws, being underfoot, barking, snoring, and just the general stink of a dog. It has been nine years since we acquired Woody as a reward for Riley improving his grades. He came into our family as an abused dog, scared of almost everything. He had been in a research facility for a few years and then adopted out to a family that mistreated him. He never was the most playful dog, my children tried but he just didn't have it in him anymore. So for the most part he slept, and slept, ate, slept some more, barked if the doorbell rang, took a few trips outside and then returned to sleeping again.
My children and grandchildren adored him. He was very gentle, never barking at them or biting, even when little fingers were poking and pulling at him.
To me, so I thought, he was just Woody, the dog. Until a few nights ago. He was taking a rare visit downstairs to see what we were up to and twisted wrong on his hind leg. This set him tumbling down the stairs. He was not able to get up and we knew he was hurt. We gave him some pain medication and hoped it might be better in the morning. It wasn't. At the Veterinarians office we were told he had torn the ACL in his hind knee. To add to that he had arthritis and a chronically infected ear. We were given the choice to medicate him and hope things got better. We opted to try the medication and hope for the best. Once again things did not improve, but went from bad to worse. His stomach became distended and he was whining and panting in pain. The pain medication was not even touching that pain he was in.
I suddenly saw Woody differently, he wasn't just a dog, he had become part of our family. I stayed by him though the night, petting him and trying to comfort him. I realized I really did love the silly old dog. It broke my heart to see him suffer. I thought of my children and grandchildren and how they would miss him. And I thought of Riley not having his dog here to greet him when he returns home. It was so hard. I wondered why I had complained so much about him.
Woody died Tuesday morning. I wish I had realized sooner how much he meant to me. How he kept me company when no one was home. How I had come to count on the little noises he made.
If there is any consolation it is that I also know he was loved. We all loved Woody in our own way, and I think he knew it. I think the last nine years have been good for him, and hopefully his life ended better than it started. I also know I will miss him!
