So. Guess what I learned?
Turns out that wasn’t
the problem at all. As it turns out, Ben
was having a seizure because of either a tumor or cancer -- something evidenced
by, as the vet pointed out, his non-contracting pupils and his lack of
reactions. Setting aside his convulsions
and stiffened body, of course. In any
case, the vet explained that things weren’t looking good, and there was a
possibility that Ben would have to get some serious treatment to get back to “normal.” Surgery wasn’t an option; the fact that an
eight-year-old dog was even having a seizure was rare enough. The way he put it -- and outright confirmed a
few minutes later -- considering euthanasia if the seizures continued over the
course of anywhere up to two weeks was an option.
As it turns out, there
was no need to even consider it. Ben was
gone two hours later.
To say that this was a
surprise would be a huge understatement…and that’s saying something,
considering this dog. This dog has not
only survived jumping out of a truck and wandering around wintry southeast
Texas on his own for nearly two weeks, but for years now has had plenty of
other medical conditions. Diabetes. Addison’s disease. And most recently, blindness. It took two daily insulin shots, a half-pill
in the morning, and a monthly injection of some kind of chemical -- adrenaline,
maybe -- to make sure he stayed active.
But outside of the
blindness -- which he had almost completely gotten over within a few months --
he was a normal, dopey dog. Up to and
including the morning of his passing; apparently he thought it’d be a fun idea
to wake me up by clawing at my bed, hoping that I’d let him nestle alongside
me. He was -- and still is -- a big dope. He was greedy, always looking for food,
clumsy, oafish, impossible to take seriously, and all-around kind of
goofy-looking; I swear he had really pointy eyeballs, and that’s setting aside
the fact that he had trouble focusing them on one thing at a time, and the whites of his eyes always looked
like they were decaying. Whether that’s
a trait of the Shih Tzu breed in general or just proof that he was defective,
it’s hard to say. What’s important is
that just by being himself, Ben could always get a laugh…when he wasn’t pooping
wherever he felt like it. Or growling
for food.
It’s hard to imagine
that not even twenty-four hours ago I watched him chow down. And one of the last things I did for him was
keep his tongue from rolling down his throat…and getting my thumb bitten in the
process. C’est la vie.
So. Where does that leave me? Hurting, obviously. Losing a grandparent is tough, but at least I
was prepared for that; going from rubbing my dog’s stomach to trying
desperately to find his heartbeat feels like I got blindsided by a runaway
train. But I’ll manage. I’ll get over this; I did it last time, and I
can do it again. There’s a time for
grief, and there’s a time for action -- and seeing as how I’m more than able to
keep on going, I won’t let myself stop so readily.
That said, I’m going to
need a bit of time to get back to 100%.
So here’s what I’m going to do. I
already have a couple of posts written and scheduled to be released, but I
think I’m going to postpone that for a day.
Just one day. That means that the
I Hraet You chapter is going to go up
Friday, and in tandem, so will the other post.
It’s not a Let’s Discuss post, but it should be more than a little
entertaining (and if you read my post on The
Wolverine, you know exactly what’s coming up). So yeah, look forward to that.
As for me? Well…honestly? I think that just by writing this post, I’m
starting to feel a little bit better. I’m
going to miss Ben, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I break down at one point,
but merely the fact that I’m willing to move forward, have goals in mind, and
want to keep pressing on regardless has to count for something. If burying myself in writing is my coping
mechanism, then so be it. I can’t think
of a better vice. Plus I’ve still got my
other dog. My mean dog, but he’s still like a (hairy) brother to me.
And that’ll do it for
now. See you guys soon.
And…see you around,
Ben. It was a blast.
See? I told you he looked goofy. I still can’t believe he ever wore that
sweater, though; talk about a lack of fashion sense…