Today has been an awful day for my wife and me. We had to make the gut wrenching decision to call our Vet to our house and allow her to pass on in peace in her own bed at home with us holding her. It was so hard but we knew deep down inside that she was not going to get any better. My wife held Lucy close to her chest and I kneeled down and kissed her on her snout as I spoke softly to her until the very end, and beyond. I am normally not a cryer, but I couldn't help myself this time, which only made it worse for my wife. We stayed with her and held her for a while afterward. As with all of our beloved pets, she will be cremated and hopefully buried with us someday.
She was born in Fort Lauderdale, Florida in October of 1992 and we brought her home from the Broward County Humane Society, where my wife worked, in March of 1993. She was such a gawky mutt dog that nobody wanted to adopt her and it had been decided by their management that she was going to be put down due to lack of interest and the need for space at the crowded shelter. My wife found out and cried "NO!, I'll take her!" and that's how she came to live with us. My wife saved her and she had another 14 years of a good life with us because of that.
She was such an active, healthy dog. She was mostly Greyhound so she was as fast as the wind and loved to run. She would run in these great big sweeping circles with a big smile on her face and her a$$ to the ground, just loving it. We had another dog at the time, our beloved little Keesh, who had no chance at all to keep up with her and would try instead to cut her off at an angle. It was funny as he11 to watch those two.
She loved to harass wildlife, especially the deadly Buffo toads in South Florida. Those little guys have a deadly poison on their backs that can kill most dogs. Not her. She would corner one and eventually get close enough to try to grab it, which of course would lead to her getting their poison in her mouth. The first few times she did that we'd see her standing by the sliding glass door with foam and drool coming out of her mouth and hers eyes slanted like she was on a he11 of an acid trip (or something). We'd panic, rush her to the hose and wash her mouth out. A few minutes later, she'd be fine, with no sign of a problem. She did it so ofetn I think she became immune to them.
We had a pool in Florida, and she lived for it. She'd jump in that water over and over again like a Lab. She was a great swimmer and swam with a calm, slow precision, like she was telling us that she was born to do this. It got to the point that if we wanted to go swimming, we'd have to lock her in the house, which would drive her mad! How dare we swim without her.
Eventually, we moved back to California. My wife and I drove all the way across for five days. She drove my new pickup and I drove the heavily laden Ryder truck loaded with all of our earthly possessions and with Lucy at my side in the cab. Every time we'd slow down, she'd pop up and look around in anticipation of the next stop. She was a great traveler who loved the adventure I think.
Eventually, in December of 2000, she ended up developing a bad limp. The short story was that she was diagnosed with Canine Osteosarcoma (bone cancer). She had her right front leg amputated and we were told that she would have three to six months to live. We decided then and there that she would get the best possible spoiling we could give her, and we would cherish every moment with her. Well, she must not have gotten the memo, because she ended up living for almost seven more years and she gave us joy every minute of those seven years.
She was a dog who loved food and had no problem making off with a chicken breast on my plate when she thought I wasn't looking - and this happened just six months ago.
She is our wonderful, special Lucy girl. They broke the mold when they made her and she will be missed more than anyone can imagine. It pains me to type this, but I wanted everyone to know who she was and how special she was to us.
See you in the next life, my girl. I miss you.
