Friday, August 31, 2007

A dog story on Friday

I finished Marley & Me last night, it was a great story. I'm not sure what I was thinking, but I never really thought about how it would have to end. It was very sad and brought on the tears. I have an extremely soft spot for dogs. I can watch a movie where the blood and guts fly but if one dog is hurt, lost or dies I am a wreck.
Old Yeller was read to my second grade class. The teacher had to call my mother to come take me home. I would not stop crying. I cried during all the Benji movies. Lassie movies were just as bad. I watched Eight Below with the kids and had to have lots of tissues.
I have had pets all my life. So that means I have had to suffer through many losses.

I had my own Lassie as a young girl (8 or 9 until age 12). His name was Woodstock. He was given to me by my aunt. I thought he was the most wonderful thing in the world. He would walk to school with me, then turn around and go home. He was my anchor in difficult times. I remember crawling into the doghouse with him and going to sleep. Woodstock ran along my bike every time I went for a ride. I could not get in trouble or yelled at if he was around. He would cover me with his body and look at whoever was yelling.
I was completely devastated when he died. I was young so I never noticed that he had stopped going to the bathroom. One day I was outside trying to get him to play and he just kept trying to go to the bathroom. I told my mom Woodstock was sick, so we took him to the vet. The vet found a mass in his bowels. They wanted him to stay over night for some tests. I remember that I was stern with him because he did not want to stay, whining and pulling away from the tech. I woke up the next morning and started bugging mom to call the vet and see how he was, see when we could come pick him up. I did not know yet that the vet office had called very early to say that Woodstock had died during the night. My mom kept putting me off until my dad got home. They told me and I became hysterical. I ran out of the house and got on my bike. I rode all over the neighborhood and ended up at he vet office, it was only one mile from our house. I went inside and demanded to see him. My parents had not know what to do with a 100 pound collie so they had the the vet take care of him. All they could give me was his collar and leash. I looked at the people and their pets in the waiting room and began yelling "go home take your dogs home he will just kill them" Needless to say they called my house, but I left before anyone got there. I cried myself to sleep for weeks. Because I never saw him, I convinced myself that he was alive and that the vet had given him away to someone else.
Twelve is a hard age, and that did not make it any easier. The death of my favorite dog was the beginning of my very unhappy teenage years.


  1. Aw, I feel like I need to go get my tissues now! What a sad story. (sniff)

  2. Okay, I got through the very first part and started reading about Woodstock and that was it. My tendency is to stay away from emotional subject, otherwise I'd be a basket case all the time. :(

  3. What Amanda said.

    Your mom should have told you right away, but, we moms learn the hard way along the way too sometimes when it comes to the right thing to say at the right time.

  4. oh, that was so sad. My heart is breaking right now.
    Thank you for sharing that with us.
    That must have been incredibly hard to write.

  5. Oh Sonya, that sounds just heartbreaking.

    Have you ever read All Creatures Great and Small, by James Herriot? Herriot writes about his personal experiences being a vet in the English countryside.

  6. Oh Sonya... big hugs...
    I'm right there with you though. When my parents had to put our bullmastiff down, I was 21 I think... I came home from a weekend at bf's house and found out he was gone... I got in the car and just drove... all the way back to bf's house, carrying a stuffed dog he had given me... wipping away the tears. It doesn't get any easier when you love them as much as we do......

  7. Oh so sad, and brings back so many memories. I vividly remember about a month after I got my driver's license, our border collie mix Sammy got very sick, very fast. No one else was home, so I packed Sammy into the car and drove over an hour to our vet. The office was closed for lunch, so I sat with Sammy on the grass outside and sang to her. The only song I could think of was "O Come All Ye Faithful" so I sang it over and over again, crying the whole time. It turned out to be pancreatitis, and they operated, but she only lived for another 12 hours. That was 28 years ago, and I still cannot hear that song without sobbing.


  8. I'm still crying from reading about Woodstock. They just take such a big piece of our hearts when they pass on, don't they? But no amount of pain is worth not having pets. The joy and love they give far outweighs the hurt.


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