Our Gomez

The day dawned clear and bright, the color of a sky blue crayon. A few wispy clouds loftily sat motionless in the distance. The window was open and birds could be heard happily twittering in the trees. But things weren’t as they seemed. This was not to be a happy day. In my head I could hear Paul Simon singing, “on this strange and mournful day.” Such a contradiction was going on in my heart. The beauty of the summer day should be obvious, but the sadness was overwhelming.

After six weeks of back and forth and hoping, the reality was clear. This little dog that had graced our lives since 2008 would be leaving this world today. I watched him sleep last night in the realization that it was the final one he’d spend on the foot of my bed. I’d be able to stretch out my legs tonight, thru my tears, most likely.


I will not again see him teetering on the back of our couch, staring at me in the driveway. Anticipating my entrance, entire body waving back and forth like a flag on a windy day, thanks to his gyrating tail, trying to balance. No longer to meet me excitedly at the door, toy in his mouth, a trick I taught him to prevent my legs being clawed by his jumping body. Anxiety quelled because I was finally home. At times so prepared, already holding the toy as he perched on the couch trying not to fall. No more waiting at the door, tail frantically wagging, for daddy to come thru it. No more sitting pretty, high fiving, rolling over. No more running to the patio door in anticipation, because daddy’s truck was coming down the road, about to go to the back yard to park the trailer after being gone the weekend. No more running up and down the hallway in pursuit of the toy we’d thrown, trying to play keep away after, even though we knew he really just wanted to fetch. No more crazy running laps thru the living room then around the dining table, running between the legs of each chair as he went round.

No more running, period.

When he came to us from New Beginnings Rescue his name was Buddy. My daughter changed it to Gomez, but it really should have been Shadow because he followed me everywhere. My velcro dog. He was supposed to be hers but ended up fiercely attached to me. Pathologically so. He thought I was his woman. That I was his to own. He bit everyone in our home in his possession of me. He sat at my feet as if to guard me. It got so bad, an animal behaviorist had to teach us how to control him. Mostly me though. I cried when I heard part of the retraining was ignoring him for a time, which hurt me as much as it hurt him. Maybe more. In the end it was the right thing to do because it made him a better dog. It let him stay here.

It didn’t change who he was though, a 100 pound dog in the body of an 18 pound Lhasa Apso mix. He would run up to big dogs, fearless, wanting to pick a fight. When someone came over he would bounce up and down at the door window over and over and over, to intimidate the “intruder” on the other side. He barked at anything that moved, much to our aggravation. He could practically hear a pin drop which also set off frantic barking. If we’d have let him, he would have chased bicycles and cars because to him, how dare they move past his territory!

Lhasas were bred to guard temples and at that, he was an expert.

He was constantly licking and chewing his feet, a nervous habit. The sound of it making me nuts. After hearing me say so many times, Gomez NO! Gomez STOP!  my little granddaughter would recite it saying, that’s what Grammy says.

He stopped licking his feet a few weeks ago, one of the signs that forced me to realize something was really wrong.

He got finicky with his food a few months ago. I thought he was just tired of the brand he had been eating the last four years. Changing his food did not make it better.

It was actually a sign. A sign that I missed.

Still not comprehending he was sick, I thought it was his teeth. I could see one coated with plaque and tartar and wiggling around. I scheduled an appointment for a dental cleaning. In the middle of Target shopping, I had a call from our wonderful veterinarian saying Gomez had some abnormalities in his pre-surgery blood test. I learned he was anemic and had low platelets. She thought some steroids would help. They didn’t and things kept getting worse. A trip to the vet school at Madison and more testing indicated he may be bleeding somewhere. Medications were added. I cooked him liver and hamburger. Nothing helped.

The reality is they believe he has cancer. Lymphoma is the best guess. It is eating away at his body, his being. He has, at best a week or two to live. There is no changing that.

His beautiful multi-shaded silvery butterscotch fur is now dull and lifeless. His once lean and toned body is skeletal, spiky bones poking out everywhere, muscle gone. His shagginess hides what is so obvious when you pet him. 

There will be no more bouncing for him. He walks as if in slow motion, flopping to the ground as soon as he stops walking, even on our driveway. No more gleeful jumping to the back of the couch because I am home. No more playing with toys. His breathing is rapid and I can see his heart pounding behind his ribs, working hard to circulate oxygen in what few red blood cells remain. He lies on his side most of day, eyes wide open and staring. He is telling us what we need to do.

Nine months ago we had four dogs. Four beloved, cuddly little fur creatures we lovingly cared for. Four year old Howard gone last October after uncontrollable seizures following a two month episode of what we believe was Pug Dog Encephalitis. Our 13 year old Shih Tzu, Porter left us in January after a two week bout with heart failure. Now Gomez. Four furry, small critters barking and demanding that drove me crazy at times. What wouldn’t I give to have them all together again with healthy bodies, even for one day?

After today, there will be but one. Toby is 14 years old with a spleen tumor and also anemia, most likely cancer causing him to slowly fade before our eyes. He was the first of our second family of dogs and now will be the last to leave, having been with us the longest of any of them. We haven’t been without fur kids for 25 years. After our two legged kids left the nest, the dogs were what kept me going. Our house will be immensely quiet.

Please, please, please do not disregard subtle signs in your pets. As a nurse, I should have known better. Don’t ignore changes that can be important clues something is wrong. Your children with fur can’t tell you they are feeling sick. They rely on us to be alert and act, when an alteration occurs. I will live with that guilt. I will get over it. I will never make that mistake again.

The sky is still bright blue, a gentle breeze now moving the trees. More clouds have moved in but the sun is as bright. I can hear our neighborhood murder of crows cawing from our backyard, a sound I normally enjoy. The green smell of summer coming thru the windows. My favorite time of year.

I know this day will bring heartache, but I must be prepared. Not wanting to, but willing myself to say goodbye.

Some people may think, It's only a dog. To me he is our Gomez with all his little pet names, as all our dogs have had. 

My buddy, my little shadow. I will mourn him. I will forever miss him.