Cassie

WARNING: Depressing blog ahead.  Proceed with caution (and tissues).

As I sit to write this post, my heart is filled with so many emotions.  Today marks 2 weeks since my parents took my beloved puppy to the vet to end her 16 years with us.  Yes, I called my 16 year old dog a puppy.  The pictures below are from when she really was a puppy, giving the camera attitude.  These are two of my favorite pictures.  

attitude

look at those big ears and paws!

Cassie was a dachshund-terrier mix that we just fell in love with.  It was a warm summer day and I was bored at my little sister’s softball game.  I went to take a walk and ended up at the concession stand where this person had a little puppy.  Of course being a little girl, I freaked out and had to pet it (I still do that to this day).  I started talking to them and they proceeded to tell me that the puppy had a sister that needed a home.  I ran back to grab my mom and tell her all about the puppy and how I HAD to have it.  Somehow I convinced my mother to take me to the house to “just look” at the dog.  Then the plan changed to “let’s just take her for a day to see if we can do this.” Well, obviously, it eventually turned into, WE HAVE A DOG!

I can remember how much fun it was to have a puppy.  The first time we took her to the store, she was so small and it wasn’t a pet store so we had to hide her in quillow (a quilt that folds into a pillow).  The first time my dad saw her, he said “I don’t like dogs.” When we got her into our house, she was scared of her own reflection in the dishwasher.  She also thought she was a cat and would love to climb on the top of the couch.

Cassie ended up being the third daughter my parents never planned on having.  After high school, I went away to college, then moved with my job.  I couldn’t care for Cassie myself and she had a great life with my parents (doggie dog, fenced in back yard, a pool to have doggie pool parties, friends that came to visit).  Cassie loved to dig for moles in the summer, bark at random people/animals in the neighborhood, and get the paper with dad on Sunday mornings (but he didn’t want the dog, remember?!).  She would wait by the window for my parents to come home from work, or for myself or my sister to come home for the weekend.  She was always there with her tail wagging.

Unfortunately with old age comes issues.  Poor Cassie had surgery on both of her back legs a few years ago (basically the human equivalent to a torn ACL).  She had arthritis and pain from that. She also lost most of her hearing and would just sleep most of her day.  My dad called me 2 weeks ago (Thursday night) and wanted to “talk about the dog,” something I’d been avoiding for a while.  However, my parents were leaving on spring break the next day so I knew I needed to listen.  My dad said that Cassie wasn’t doing well and I really needed to pay attention to her using her doggie door and walking around. I was scheduled to drive home to watch Cassie over the weekend, then a dog/house sitter was coming to stay with her during the week until they returned from vacation.  Friday morning I had just woken up and I was doing my usual news checks (FB, Twitter, etc…) and I saw my dad was calling.  My heart dropped. He told me that when they woke up that Cassie couldn’t walk.  I cried and cried, and told my dad that he HAD to go with my mom to the vet.  I couldn’t be with Cassie because of my travel schedule, but I insisted that both of my parents be with her during her last moments.  My mom called me when they left the vet.  She said that Cas was calm (which she always shakes going to the vet).   Mom said that Cassie put her head on my mom’s shoulder and let out a sigh like she was saying “I know what’s coming, and it’s ok.”

I know she is not in pain anymore and she’s in a better place.  This weekend will be the first time I’ve been to my parent’s house since they had to put her down, which is going to be very difficult.  She was my baby.  

she wanted to travel with me!