From the "What have I done" files:
It was a thought at the back of my mind. It wasn't new. It had been there for a long time. When I was in my late 20s, I lived in an apartment complex. There was an older gentleman and almost every time I saw him, he had a different dog - each one obviously elderly, limping through their daily walk while gazing at him with true adoration.
I'm not an overly social person, but I gathered up my courage on one occasion to ask him about the dogs. "Oh, I get them through a seniors for seniors program."
"Doesn't it hurt to lose them?" I asked, thinking of the four cats in my own apartment, whom I loved so much and couldn't bear the thought of losing.
"I don't think about that," he answered. "I think about the fact that I give them a home that they wouldn't have otherwise at the end."
I've never forgotten that gentlemen. He gave those dogs the greatest gift he could offer them - a home in which to finish living their lives. A person who cared for them. Companionship. Freedom from a depressing cage in a shelter. No worries of premature euthanasia due to not being adoptable or developing a treatable age-related illness. There is no greater gift.
The young woman that asked that man about his senior dogs has grown quite a bit. I've lived through losing a spouse and a father, not to mention three dogs and seventeen cats. Each death has hit me in a different way. I've loved all of them, and each holds a special place in my heart. But I've discovered that despite the pain, the fact that my heart's capacity to love seems to expand with each new creature I let in allows me the space to grieve each in their own way.
After the death of my first husband, I eventually fell in love again with another animal lover, who soon moved in with three cats adding to the six I already had plus a beautiful dog - a lab/shepherd mix that I fell head over heels for. I was only able to share about two and half years with this beautiful dog, but with the older gentleman from that apartment complex in mind, I swore that some day when I was older, I would pay forward what this senior dog had given me by allowing another older dog to finish her life in a home rather than a shelter or worse.
We lost our beloved sheepdog/lab mix, Laney, last year. Just last month, my promise to pay forward the love of an aging dog came to my mind. I'm too young for seniors for seniors programs, but I started browsing the adoption pages to see if any listings sparked my interest. There I happened upon Isabella, called Bella by those who love her, an 11-year-old chocolate lab in need of rehoming. And with that, some day had arrived.
I am keeping the promise that my thirty-something-old self made. Bella isn't the abandoned-at-a-shelter dog I imagined back then. She is a dog whose family loved her very much, but whose child had developed an asthma-inducing allergy to her. They loved the dog they had raised since she was a seven-week-old pup so that rather than send her to a shelter, they've been restricting her to just a few rooms in their house while they searched for a home where she could grow old and wouldn't be exiled to a few rooms, separated from the family she loved. Despite the difficulties that entailed, they were willing to wait for a hopefully perfect home where she could live the rest of her life.
Their love and affection for her was apparent to us when we met them and introduced the lovely Bella to our dog, Brooklyn.
The two dogs basically ignored each other than a perfunctory sniffing of one another, so we decided to give it a go. We welcomed Bella to our home and after a week of watching her mostly ignore our cats, we decided it would work. I know it was extremely difficult for her family to give her up, and I remain in awe of the sacrifice they were willing to make to give both their beloved dog and there cherished son a happy life.
We have heard that their son is breathing much better without a dog in the home, and we take comfort in the belief that we have helped a young man get a healthier start in life, which is the most important thing you can give someone.
As for Bella, I think she still misses her family, and spent the first week with us intently watching the door for her people to come and bring her home. It was kind of heartbreaking, but she is now settling into a routine in our home and finding her place. We printed copies of the 3/3/3 posters that discuss timelines for allowing dogs to settle into a new home and refer to it daily so as not to become discouraged as Bella continues transitioning to our home. We have a way to go yet, but the sleeping dog at my feet gives me hope that we've done a good thing for three wonderful people and an awesome dog.
