A Dog's Legacy

June 02, 2017

A Dog's Legacy

It was a Tuesday, I remember anxiously awaiting my grandparents arrival so we could all make the 80 mile drive to Anna, TX. I checked my wallet one more time and counted out the money I had saved up for so long, one, two, three hundred dollars. It was a lot of money for a fifteen year old girl with no job but I was ready to spend it all on one very special thing. I don't remember the drive there, I'm sure it felt arduous. I had waited so long for this day and with the distance we had to cover it meant that my choice was "non-refundable". My mom had told me that if this was the one I truly wanted we would all go together to get her but I wouldn't be able to just change my mind upon meeting her so I needed to certain she was the one I wanted. I prayed and prayed over that day. We drove a long time down winding county roads as we got closer to our destination. Every street sign was a number, no names. It was all unincorporated county land. I remember seeing a fence surrounding a small shed full of the little Yorkshire terriers. All of them running around, barking. Then I saw her, a little white poodle. The girl who would leave a mark on my life forever. We pulled into the drive and her owner met us outside. She told us about how she was a breeder for "yorkiepoos" and that she had a teacup poodle and a toy poodle but couldn't use her miniature poodle as she was too big. I remember seeing the other two poodles through her front room window sitting happily inside, loved and wanted. But Ginger had to live outside with the breed stock. She was not a pet and she was not usable for breeding. She wasn't wanted. The lady told us she had another person interested in buying Ginger but she wasn't sure if she wanted to sell her to him because he told her that he had 30 or 40 dogs. She was uncomfortable with the fact that he didn't even know how many animals he had. I knew I couldn't leave Ginger to such a fate. I knew she needed to come home with us. I gladly handed over my savings and we loaded Ginger up in the car. I hadn't held a dog of my own in my lap in years. I was so worried about her being comfortable that I propped her head up on my knee and lifted my foot onto my toes so her head wouldn't droop. I held that posture the entire 80 mile drive home. I remember she was very sad when we got home. She had been taken away from everything she had known for the past three years and now she was in a house with strangers. I felt bad for her but I also felt like a kindred spirit with her. I was sad too and I had been sad for a long time now. What I didn't know then was that I have depression and coupled with the changing hormones of puberty it had made my teenage years a living nightmare.

I spent years feeling broken and lost without an end in sight thanks to depression. My parents painfully watched me as I struggled just to function day to day. Together my parents had decided that I would benefit from the comforts of a pet. My brothers had moved out years before and I spent a lot of time alone. As a dear, departed friend of ours once said, I needed someone to be "Jesus with skin on" for me. As a young teen God was still too abstract a concept for me. Nights were the hardest, I would lie awake for hours unable to shut off the anxiety of my mind. I needed to have someone to hold onto, to be there with me that I could physically cling to in those dark times. I remember when my mom told me that she and my dad had talked it over and decided that I should get a dog. It was, to me, out of the blue. I was shocked and elated. My mind was spinning thinking of all the breeds of dogs in the world, their colours, their sizes, their shapes. I was excited and shocked all at once. My parents and I spent months praying, researching and scouring the web for the dog. I knew in my heart that there was a dog out there that was destined to be mine and I her's and I prayed for God to help us find each other. After months of searching, calling, emailing and pet store adoption days I finally did find her, on the Star-Telegram's website in the classifieds. A thing of the past nowadays. She was being sold by a breeder in Anna, TX. I remember teeming with anxiety as I called the number on the advertisement, hoping she hand't been sold already. She hadn't and she wouldn't because I know now that she was always meant to be mine.

Her name was Ginger. I knew that had to change and I already had a name picked out for her. The year prior we had watched the film One Night With The King which was about queen Esther and even though I had read the book of Esther before it wasn't until I heard the queen's true Hebrew name out loud on our TV that I really appreciated it. Hadassah. I thought to myself right then and there that if I ever had dog of my own someday that I would name her Hadassah. God was already working; even then. No one was sure if Ginger would get used to being called Hadassah since it sounded nothing like her former name. But I knew in my heart that she was supposed to Hadassah. I was right and she very quickly forgot her old name in a matter of days. Hadassah was reborn on that Tuesday, March 20th, 2007, and in someways she was born for the first time and so was I. Her first night with us I fully intended to have her at the foot of my bed. Where else should a dog sleep, especially one who had been sleeping in a cage in a shed. But my dad wanted me to wait since we were still new to each other. I reluctantly put her to bed in her kennel on the floor at my bedside. But the moment I awoke the next day I put her right in bed with me and she has slept there ever since. In those first few months together we learned a lot more about her past. It was clear that no one had ever played with her. We would throw toys, squeak them at her and try to engage her but she would just stare at us happily without a clue what to do. She had never chased anything, she just lived in a fenced in shed and nothing more. Her health took a massive change as well. In our first week with Hadassah we had her spayed and our vet sited that she had several food allergies. Her previous owner told me she seemed to be itchy all the time. One trip to the vet answered a question that could have prevented three years of suffering with allergies and itching for her. Hadassah's skin was also sickly in appearance and had a grey tone to it. After changing her food, her skin slowly changed to a healthy, bright pink and with it she became a health, bright dog.

Hadassah was, what I called, my brain child. She never had to be on a leash with me. Wherever I went, she followed. In someways she was more like Biblical Ruth than Esther. Everyone called her my shadow. If I left the room, Hadassah would get up and go with me. If I left the house she would sit and sulk on her pillow till I came back. If I was at dance class, she somehow knew when it was time to pick me up and when that time was near she would badger my mom to take her in the car to go get me and bring me home to her. If I told her to turn left she went left, if I told her go right she went right. She could shake hands, sit, lay down and stand up. We also played a little game where I would hide a toy in my hand, put both my hands behind my back and shuffle the toy around and then present my closed fists to her and she would place her paw on the hand she wanted me to open and reveal to her if it had the toy. She was so smart and so well behaved. She never ran away from me and she wouldn't jump on or slobber over people. Which meant we could go just about anywhere together and we did. As I got older and started driving I would take her anywhere I could. We became well known at Michael's craft stores, Half Price Book's stores, a few clothing stores and of course the park. If I couldn't take Hadassah sometimes I just wouldn't go at all. We had a powerful bond.

Always making me laugh

Hadassah didn't know the love a family for the first three years of her life and the only life she did know was suddenly taken away from her. So she quickly bonded to me and knew that if I was there nothing bad could happen to her. I was her protector and she was mine. I spent a lot of time grieving in my room as I dealt with the pains of depression and Hadassah somehow knew the degrees of my sorrow. If I was only a little sad Hadassah would start chasing her tail and woof at me to get me to laugh and go play with her but if I was very low she would sit beside me and sometimes even lean against me for however long I needed. She would not leave my side until I was ready to get up again. She even knew when if I was ill before I knew it myself. If Hadassah laid on my pillow by my head that meant illness was on the rise and we better break out the sinus meds. Everyone says I rescued Hadassah but those who are very close to me know the truth. Hadassah rescued me. She gave me a reason to get up each day. I now had someone who needed me. I had to feed her, walk her, groom her and because she loved me so much if I wasn't home she ceased to live and just existed. She wouldn't eat, wouldn't play she just sat on her pillow listlessly, waiting for me. Having someone who completely depended on me gave me something to live for and more importantly something to fight for. I couldn't give up and let depression beat me because I had Hadassah to care for now.

I began getting my depression medically under control at the age of twenty but I never stopped needing Hadassah. She was my best friend. I even wanted her in my wedding but I knew she would be too overwhelmed and anxious during the ceremony. After I got married to Matthew and we moved into our apartment, Hadassah and I had a whole new world opened up to us. I was a "real" adult now, with my own place, a husband and a career. We had a great routine going for us. Every morning I took Hadassah to the park. She chased the squirrels and watched over me as I listened to worship music and talked with God on the swing set; He was much more tangible to me then. My career let's me work from home so Hadassah and I never had to be parted. We got to be together all day long. I do wished that time in our lives could have lasted just a little bit longer.

Hadassah got older, as we all do, and with age came a lot of health problems for her. She was diagnosed with Addison's disease and had to wear diapers. She also developed a level 4, and later 5, heart murmur. The older she got, the larger her heart became. Her doctor told us that over time her heart would begin to press on her trachea and restrict her breathing. We had to be watchful of any coughing as this would signal her heart reaching failure. It felt like she was a ticking time bomb at times but I was going to hold on to her for as long as I could. After my son was born Hadassah got knocked down a peg in the family. We all know babies have to come first. I carry a lot of regrets about how I treated Hadassah during the first year of my son's life. I wish I would have been there for her more. Trying to balance a full time job, new motherhood, owning our first home, maintaining a healthy marriage and an aging, ailing poodle proved to be more than I could handle. Hadassah often got the short end of the stick and, regrettably, the short end of my fuse. I carry so much guilt over how frustrated I would get with her. Baths, haircuts, homemade meals, medications, diapers, all of these things that she needed and some of which had once been routine were now becoming an inconvience I anxiously wanted to be rid of. There were even times I wished she would just pass away. It breaks my heart recounting all of this and it's painful baring all these guilts so publicly but if my confession can be of comfort to someone else walking this path or even prevent someone from making the mistakes I did, then I gladly expose this to you all. If I could go back I would be more patient. I would be more caring and more gentle with her in that last year. I would have spent more time with her and cherished her. I have spent many sleepless nights lately wondering if Hadassah thought I stopped loving her after I had my son. In some ways I think I did and I will always hate myself for that. When she needed me most, I loved her least. I allowed the overwhelming weight of my job and my new baby push her out of my life. But God is so gracious and He knew I would one day have to bare the guilt of my actions from the past year. Though I cannot answer the question of whether or not Hadassah thought I stopped loving her after my son was born God helped me to tell her I love you one last time.

On May 24th something was different with Hadassah's health. I knew her time was near and she was suffering. I called her doctor and at 6pm we would take her for her final appointment and say goodbye. I was ready, she was ready. I carried her in my arms a lot that day because I knew I would never get to hold her again. I fed her cheese, her favorite treat, I made sure she was comfortable. I tried to cram into that one day all the things I wished I had and should have been doing in the past 16 months. I put together a box with her bed and blankets for her to lay in during the car ride so she wouldn't have to balance on my lap in her feeble state. Once we were waiting in the back of the doctors office I spent more time petting on her and holding her close. Her doctor's assistant came in and took her to the back to get an IV set. When they brought her back I noticed her mouth looked white and she was licking the air a lot. Looking back, I know she was frothing but in that moment I couldn't bring myself to make that connection and convinced myself that they must have given her a liquid medication to help her relax while they prepared the euthanasia medication. The doctor would be coming in soon to administer the shot that would take her life and end her suffering. I pulled her close and I felt God urging me to tell her that I loved her. I am so glad I listened to Him. I leaned into her ear and said "I love you Hadassah, I love you." Right then and there her head turned sharply to the right three times and she passed away in my arms before the doctor ever came into the room. I will never know if she questioned my love for her after my son came into our family but I will always know that in her last moments she got to hear from me that I still loved her. I hold that close to my heart when feelings of regret threaten to tear me a part at night. I really miss her and I have so much I wish I could change about our last year together but I can't and I have to fight those thoughts of regret daily. She wasn't my pet, she was my daughter and my best friend and as painful as it is to go on without her I would never want to go back and choose never to have had her in my life just to alleviate the pain of living without her now. I didn't have a life then, I was just existing, Hadassah taught me to live again. She rescued me and though she is now no longer in my arms she is forever in my heart. Goodbye my sweet daughter, I will see you over the rainbow bridge.