Lexi

I'm struggling to find gratitude today. This afternoon, my family made the difficult and sudden decision to have our golden retriever, Lexi, put to sleep. She was old, to be sure, and had serious arthritis, but it wasn't until three days ago that she took a serious turn for the worse. She wasn't eating much, and yesterday she got to the point where she couldn't stand for even a few seconds without collapsing, so my parents took her to the vet early this morning. While the blood work didn't reveal much more than an odd white-blood cell count, the x-ray showed numerous small tumors in her chest. The vet told my mom the tumors could possibly be treated with heavy medication, but that with Lexi's old age, the outlook wasn't good. The vet did make sure we knew that Lexi didn't show signs of being in much pain, though. That's good. Yet we knew starting her on new and heavier meds would only prolong the inevitable for a couple of months. So just before 3:00, we all said goodbye.

There are very few, if any, moments I can recall when I've seen my dad cry like that. We all cried.

I really don't mean to pass my sadness on to anyone who reads this. That's not my intention at all. I'm not even sure why I'm writing about it, except that maybe I need to for some kind of closure. I already feel a little better.

Pets are family; losing them, even when you know it's their time, is incredibly hard. I'm now trying to let go of the sadness and focus on all the joy Lexi brought to my family. I'm grateful for the many years we had her and all the love she gave us.

We adopted Lexi from my dad's sister Joni when she separated from her husband, moved out of Washington, and couldn't take the dog with her. I remember how back then Lexi had so much energy and would go on walks for days if you'd let her (and could keep up.) Playing fetch was one of her most favorite activities. She absolutely loved people and was an incredible attention whore, barking if you stopped petting her for even a second. She was a 100-and-something pound lap-dog. She rarely walked around without a toy or a bone in her mouth, and my dad always said it looked like she was smoking a cigar. Even when her arthritis got bad and she couldn't come to the door to greet us when we got home, she'd bark and wag her bushy tail until we'd come to her. When I got Gidget, my little corgi, about a year and a half ago, Lexi wasn't at all territorial - rather, she became the mama dog, putting up with the puppy pouncing and chewing on her. I think Gidget even brought some of the youth back into Lexi; they loved wrestling together. I'll admit that as she got older and started losing her hearing, her constant loud barking annoyed me. But I know that was just her way of getting attention. She was a wonderful member of our family.

Today, I'm grateful for all these positive memories of her. I'm grateful that we had a chance to say goodbye together, all four of us. I'm grateful she went without any pain. I'm grateful for the amazing staff at our vet who were so helpful and comforting today. I'm grateful to know that Lexi's ashes will be scattered at Mount Rainier. I'm grateful for Gidget and the many years of happiness and love we have ahead of us. I'm grateful for welcome distractions this evening, like Back to the Future on tv. (My brother had never seen that movie! Can you believe it?) I'm grateful that I feel better after writing all of this. I'm grateful that tomorrow is a new day.

What are you grateful for?