Well. It's over. If you're my Facebook friend you'd have no way of NOT knowing this, as I think I updated my status 3949943 times yesterday. And it's way awfuller than I thought it would be. I mean being my Facebook friend. And losing Tallulah.
Where did I put her last?
Tuesday evening, Ned called and said he was at a nearby restaurant, and could he come over and say goodbye to Talu. Lu loves the crap out of that guy. Loved. Oh, god.
She loved him, but she also never forgot that Ned and I used to fight like banshees.
So although she let us visit, she kept watch just in case. We used to call her the rufferee. If we started getting terse with each other, she'd come in from wherever she'd been and put her paw on one of us and grunt. can't all just get 'long?
Yesterday morning I woke up and stretched and punched her right in the nose. Hey! Happy death day! Is my dog mom of the year award coming by mail, or...?
Tallulah got steak for breakfast. And all her life she's always wanted to try my avocado and I kept it from her because I heard it was bad for dogs (POIIIIISON for dogs, June), and yesterday? Tallulah had my avocado. It turn out, avocado do be delishus.
I was kind of trying to follow her lead yesterday and do whatever she wanted to do, and I've never really noticed before that she really follows me to see what I want to do. So finally I read my book on the deck while she sunned herself. You can see her back foot is hurt, too. I honestly think that was also some kind of cancer. It wouldn't get better even though I'd taken her to the vet for it four times. It got worse while she got worse, so.
"Hey, Talu, you wanna go to the dog park?" I asked her, and I couldn't believe she still knew the phrase "dog park." Hell yeah, she wanted to go to the dog park. I took her every day of her life to that place, from puppyhood till she was probably two, when one day she bullied a poodle and everyone else in the park yelled at me and said Tallulah "plays too rough" and "doesn't know when to quit." TO BE FAIR, there's a big-dog section and a little-dog section, and if you're gonna bring your pussy-ass white fluffy fuckstick poodle to the big-dog section, maybe you should prepare yourself for a larger real dog pushing over your poufy excuse for a dog with her real-dog snout.
Perhaps I'm still bitter.
I left that day and never went back, which is exactly how the grandmother I'm turning into would have handled it (my relatives are nodding their heads ruefully right now).
Just by habit, I took her the long way, through the regular park, for what's probably a 20-minute stroll to what they call the bark park, and yes, I rolled my eyes just now too. Bark park. Oh for fuck's sake. Anyway, I realized halfway in that this would kind of irritate her parts, and she stopped to try to pee 109 times on the way there.
We walked through a field of forget-me-nots, though, on the way there.
The damn BARK PARK was full of fucking people, and who ARE these people that they don't have jobs on a Wednesday? I was nervous as I let go of Lu's leash and she ran in. Dogs ran to her to sniff her, and it went without incident. I was just starting to relax when two things happened at once. She came to me, whining, which has never happened before, and the cutest gray pit bull puppy with a white bib started not leaving her alone. As soon as I saw her hackles go up, I got her outta there.
Still, she seemed happy to have revisited her old bullying grounds.
When we got home, I had--and here's where I sound like my mother--SUCH PRETTY FLOWERS from a bunch of you readers, the more bitchy ones, like Paula H&B and Letha and so on. My mother has never once referred to flowers without calling them "pretty." "It's getting warmer and my pretty flowers are all blooming, honey."
Lu had turkey lunch meat, an entire sleeve of Do-See-Dos and a nice nap, where I pretty much laid on her and Yoko'd her the entire time.
My boss had suggested I bring Talu for our daily three o'clock walk with coworkers, which was an excellent idea. A bunch of them had met her before, at various parties and so on, and they all wanted to wish her farewell. Usually maybe five of us go on a walk, but Tallulah warranted a much bigger turnout.
She kept up as best she could, but she really had to stop to try to pee every few yards. And nothing was coming out. I know I did this at the right time. She could still have fun, but it was getting more difficult. I didn't want it to get to the point where she couldn't even take a walk.
This is the last picture I'll ever take of Tallulah and me, and it's an asshole selfie-in-the-car pic. Still, I love how happy her eyes are, and that she's smiling.
I don't want to talk about the vet coming, because it's awful. But I will say two things. One is that Edsel stayed far away from everything, whereas normally he's up in your business every second. The other is that Lily got on the bed, where we did everything, and she never left. She watched over Lu the whole time.
Edsel had torn out the door into the back yard, and was barking like a lunatic. "The last thing she'll hear is Edsel barking," I said to the vet. "Those are the sounds of home," the vet told me.
Edsel barking her out of this life made me think of Dances With Wolves, when Wind in His Hair yells at Kevin Costner's mullet. (Go to about 15 seconds in.)
I AM WIND IN HIS EARS! CAN'T YOU SEE THAT I AM YOUR FRIEND? CAN'T YOU SEE MY TEEF?
I'd had several people offer to come over yesterday, and I kept telling everyone I just wanted to be alone, the way I want to be alone if I'm throwing up. But last night was difficult. Ned called me and I was crying so hard I couldn't even form the words. "I'll be right there," he said, and minutes later, he was. All I did was sit around and cry, and hold Lu's collar, and I'm sure I was tons of fun.
Anyway, to everyone who called or texted or IMd me on Facebook or emailed or sent me things, thank you. It was nice to know I wasn't alone in this. I tried to answer everyone but sometimes I was very busy with the weeping, and it better burn calories to weep, is all I can say.
I hope there's a dog heaven, and if there is, I hope Lu got to take one long, satisfying pee before her poodle dinner.
