When the Time Comes

 As 72 is fast approaching for me, I have been contemplating the "what ifs." I have Max, a 3-year old German Shepherd and Elsie, a 10.5 year old Giant Schnauzer. What happens to them if something happens to me? They are my loyal companions and sometimes my entertainment. 

Elsie is my Velcro dog. She is always by my side. If I rise to go to another room, even though I am just going to check something cooking on the stove, she gets up and follows me to the kitchen, the bathroom, or wherever, then lays back down. As I turn around to go to another room, she rises to follow. Max is more patient. He just imitates a big throw rug and awaits my return.

Anyway, as I was pondering what becomes of my dogs should I be hospitalized or die, I tried to come up with people and scenarios. The people with whom I could entrust my dogs to and scenarios of what if no one wants these two big dogs. I owe it to these two to make the best plans. They love me unconditionally and trust me with their lives. I have to come up with something.

As I was talking with the vet this afternoon, he told me that I could have my family reach out to him to help find homes for placement if no one in my family would take them. I'm not sure any of them would want the tag-team of Max and Elsie.

Besides, Elsie is nearing her life cycle as a Giant Schnauzer. She will be 11 soon and the vet commented today that since she is in the double digits of age, she has lived her life expectancy and everything is now bonus life. He commented how so many of the dogs he has seen on autoimmune suppressing drugs, within several years after starting the drugs, pass. Elsie has been on autoimmune therapy drugs for 6 years now and Dr. Chaille believes that she has had the best of care to survive this long. 

Elsie is here for me. Her bond with me goes beyond anything any other dog I've owned. We go back to the day she was 10-days old. I went to look at Giant Schnauzer puppies that were only 10 days old. As I beheld the litter of 11 inside a puppy pen squirming around, crawling over top of one another, and making little puppy noises, I began talking to them. Slowly, I walked all the way around the pen while the owners watched. When I got to the 1/4 point, one puppy surfaced and began following my voice. When I got back to the starting point of my journey around the pen, there it was squirming and squeaking.

I was asked if I knew what sex I wanted and told them not really but that I had always had males. I reached in and picked up the tenuous little puppy who barely had the eyes open. I snuggled it close to my neck and she began making puppy noises and sucking on my neck. I commented, "I don't even know what sex it is," and held the puppy out and way at arms length to check.  "It's a little girl," I said.

I slowly brought her back to my neck where she began settling in. Then the owner inquired, "What are you going to call her?"

I didn't know as I had been thinking of male names, so I held her out at arms' length again and inquired of her, "What do you want me to call you?" Like a bolt of lightning it flashed through my head. "Elsie." 

I instantly inquired of the puppy, "So you want me to call you Elsie?" In answer to that question, she became very vocal and squirmy. I brought her back to my neck and snuggled her again. She settled in as if it was home and responded to her name each time I said 'Elsie.' 

Both owners commented on how they had never seen anything like it before in regards to the interaction of a puppy with a new owner. I paid my deposit and left for the day, but returned when Elsie was 3 weeks' old. 

This time, she was playing rough and tumble with her littermates and they were seeing who was the best at beating everyone up. The minute Elsie heard my voice, she stopped playing and turned and came to the puppy pen line to wait for me to pick her up. She and I had already formed a bond and she remembered it.

Finally, when she was 8 weeks old, I went to the kennel for the last time. Elsie was playing with the few littermates remaining. As soon as she heard my voice, she turned and began waving her left paw at me. The owner about fell over. Never in all her years of raising puppies had she ever seen such interactions as Elsie and I have for each other. 

I am always thankful that Elsie has come into my life. Not in my wildest dreams can I imagine my life without her. When her final day comes, I will be with her until her last breath; then I will hold her and cry over her body and the joy and years this beloved pet has given me. It just doesn't seem fair that dogs with such short lives compared to humans can't be around us longer. Their unconditional love makes my life so much richer.