Memories of Sullivan
Posted: Tue Jul 29, 2008 2:15 pm
I'm going to try to do this. I couldn't before, but today I was thinking about a couple things with her I'd forgotten.
1. About 4 months after we got her, we went on vacation. We had a dog sitter stay at the house with her the whole time, and of course I called every day. I was a nervous new "mother." Anyway, when we got back, we found out she had eaten a hole through the floor in our front entryway (her cave) while we were gone. Forrest wanted to get rid of her right then and there, but I told him flat out NO. (See I am the house alpha, and I know we'll get another girl soon, hopefully Chloe, from TLC). Anyway, I personally tore up the floor and put down a new one. I cannot do anything that involves putting things together, but I was determined. Forrest did have to finish the edges, but for me, that was a big deal. We also bought her a crate for when we were away during the day (that didn't last a month). And, unbeknownst to Forrest -- to this day (SHHHHH) Phil and I hired a private trainer to come to the house. Of course, what we learned from those lessons didn't even last a month I don't think. Anyway, she obviously didn't go anywhere, despite Forrest's hissy fits.
2. From the beginning, I called her the dog who thinks she's a cat. She would walk in and out of peoples legs or rub against them like a cat, she walked on top of the furniture, and her favorite food was tuna fish. She was always a finicky eater (like a cat). Of course, now I know many of her "tastes" and behaviors are chowish. She was REALLY skinny the first year or so we got her. Still all fluffy but skin and bones underneath. People would pet her and say they couldn't believe how skinny she was. She just never wanted to eat (except that linoleum floor). I always said she was anorexic in practice for being a supermodel. Of course, I've also since learned that dogs can be anorexic. It's all about control. The tuna fish part lasted to the end. It was her last meal.
3. I changed her nickname constantly when we first got her (Sullivan was her shelter name.) We were going to call her Scully or Sully at the time because we liked the X Files; but only her "dad" ever really called her that, even toward the end). Anyway, I made up a bunch of songs for her (I've shared the lyrics to my tinkle song before). One was: "My poochini, by jelly beanie, you're the one that I adore. My poochini, my jelly beanie, and you hardly ever snore, cha cha cha" (sung to la cuchoracha). Anyway, I sort of liked that poochie, puchini thing, but then I started calling her Susan Lucci because it rhymed with poochie and she was always the diva. Finally, I just called her bootchie, boo, or baby boo. Baby boo were the last words she heard.
4. I don't regret putting her down when we did, but I do have 2 regrets about the situation. First, I should have insisted harder that I be with her when they put in the IV. They were saying that if the dog resists, people can back out, which is why I ultimately didn't go with her. But I've posted before that the one vulnerable thing she did was put her head into my chest whenever a vet did something to her she didn't like. I feel like I let her down on that one, especially since I don't think she would have resisted at that point. I also made the mistake of opening her eyes to make sure she was under before they gave her the final shot. I don't recommend doing that. But, it also occured to me, I had NEVER seen her with her eyes shut. Even to the end, she was essentially awake, Whenever anyone was around she would just rest and woke up completely whenever anyone came near her. Again, a chow thing, always on duty.
Those were just a few things I had to get out of my system. I'm sure I'll think of more. On Saturday, it will be one month. I do mark time now as before and after she died.
1. About 4 months after we got her, we went on vacation. We had a dog sitter stay at the house with her the whole time, and of course I called every day. I was a nervous new "mother." Anyway, when we got back, we found out she had eaten a hole through the floor in our front entryway (her cave) while we were gone. Forrest wanted to get rid of her right then and there, but I told him flat out NO. (See I am the house alpha, and I know we'll get another girl soon, hopefully Chloe, from TLC). Anyway, I personally tore up the floor and put down a new one. I cannot do anything that involves putting things together, but I was determined. Forrest did have to finish the edges, but for me, that was a big deal. We also bought her a crate for when we were away during the day (that didn't last a month). And, unbeknownst to Forrest -- to this day (SHHHHH) Phil and I hired a private trainer to come to the house. Of course, what we learned from those lessons didn't even last a month I don't think. Anyway, she obviously didn't go anywhere, despite Forrest's hissy fits.
2. From the beginning, I called her the dog who thinks she's a cat. She would walk in and out of peoples legs or rub against them like a cat, she walked on top of the furniture, and her favorite food was tuna fish. She was always a finicky eater (like a cat). Of course, now I know many of her "tastes" and behaviors are chowish. She was REALLY skinny the first year or so we got her. Still all fluffy but skin and bones underneath. People would pet her and say they couldn't believe how skinny she was. She just never wanted to eat (except that linoleum floor). I always said she was anorexic in practice for being a supermodel. Of course, I've also since learned that dogs can be anorexic. It's all about control. The tuna fish part lasted to the end. It was her last meal.
3. I changed her nickname constantly when we first got her (Sullivan was her shelter name.) We were going to call her Scully or Sully at the time because we liked the X Files; but only her "dad" ever really called her that, even toward the end). Anyway, I made up a bunch of songs for her (I've shared the lyrics to my tinkle song before). One was: "My poochini, by jelly beanie, you're the one that I adore. My poochini, my jelly beanie, and you hardly ever snore, cha cha cha" (sung to la cuchoracha). Anyway, I sort of liked that poochie, puchini thing, but then I started calling her Susan Lucci because it rhymed with poochie and she was always the diva. Finally, I just called her bootchie, boo, or baby boo. Baby boo were the last words she heard.
4. I don't regret putting her down when we did, but I do have 2 regrets about the situation. First, I should have insisted harder that I be with her when they put in the IV. They were saying that if the dog resists, people can back out, which is why I ultimately didn't go with her. But I've posted before that the one vulnerable thing she did was put her head into my chest whenever a vet did something to her she didn't like. I feel like I let her down on that one, especially since I don't think she would have resisted at that point. I also made the mistake of opening her eyes to make sure she was under before they gave her the final shot. I don't recommend doing that. But, it also occured to me, I had NEVER seen her with her eyes shut. Even to the end, she was essentially awake, Whenever anyone was around she would just rest and woke up completely whenever anyone came near her. Again, a chow thing, always on duty.
Those were just a few things I had to get out of my system. I'm sure I'll think of more. On Saturday, it will be one month. I do mark time now as before and after she died.