Paw Prints in the Heart.

Paw prints in the Heart.

The Geezerette's asleep, she is deep in a REM, with dogs and her puppies she dreams once again.

All German shepherds that fifty odd years, brought her some joy, even brought her some tears.

Tonight it's Adri, the one that just died, walks through her sad heart and walks through her mind.

Adri as puppy, a bundle of fur, she learns her name well and is following her.

When she is picked up she is without fear, the pup nibbles ear rings and even an ear.

To be a guide dog she learns many things, like avoiding dropped food that temptation brings.

She walks through a crowd, up/down the stairs and keeps to her job if loud noises she hears.

She visits with others several times and is handled by them so she does not take fright.

When pup raisers meet they  learn many things that guide dogs must absorb, before training begins.

But Adri to her clings, 'handler-dependent' she is and as for  guide training - she gives it a miss.

To be home with us, to be just a pet, she soon becomes ours doing just that:

To ride in a car with the wind in her face, chase what does move, to try win a race;

To chase the fleet squirrels and even some cats, she caught and killed rabbits without regret;

To chase and catch Frisbees and bouncing kongs, to eat apples and pears and grapes off the vines;

To swim and chase water coming from the hose, snap at the liquid as it tickles her throat;

To shovel with nose the arm off the keys, her way of just saying 'it's playing time please';

To drop her red kong in a newly dug hole, her way of saying 'please throw it some more.'

What a good life it was for twelve solid years, not even ruined by thunder storm fears.

The Geezerette's asleep she is deep in a REM, with dogs and her puppies she dreams once again.

Her knees are still working, the joints are whole and deep-furrowed paw prints do cover her soul.

 

In Memoriam of Adri, who was put to sleep at about 3:30 CST in Mt Pleasant, Texas, on the 16th of September 2010. The poem is dedicated to my wife, Dorothy, alias the Geezerette.

Adri was diagnosed with a condition of tightening spinal cord that eventually paralyses the back end of the animal. We gave her pills until she started coughing, gagging and spitting up and at first we thought that she had acid reflux. We changed her diet several times, but in the end nothing really helped except the sponge bread that would stop the gurgling of her stomach for maybe a couple of hours.  Then we took her to the Vet for a barium swallow and the X-rays showed her to have a large tumor in the esophagus. While we contemplated what to do, she lost a lot of strength in her back legs and that is when we decided to end her life. I had to lift her back end into the car, but she walked into the Vet's office on her own feet. Maybe she thought that she was going to get another test so she did not struggle. She lost consciousness almost as soon as she got the injection.  She died while I was petting her nose.

The Vet says the guy who cremates dead dogs uses the ashes to fertilize his rose bushes and peach trees.

Three of her habits did not make it into the poem. Maybe I will add them later, maybe not. Kathy would call her the "fun police," because Adri would discipline the other dogs if they got too rowdy having fun. And she got so tuned in on chasing squirrels that all we had to say "squirrel" and she would get all keyed up to run out and chase the critter. After a while, we started saying "SQI" so she would not get so keyed up, but she learned the meaning of SQI. And did I say she loved bananas? We knew she had troubles at the end when she refused bananas, apples and grapes.

The Vet tried to comfort me by telling me that my petting her nose was the last thing Adri felt. But, I am comforted by remembering the years of fun we had sharing her life.

The expression 'walking through the heart and mind' came from the Geezerette.

9/21/2010 10:10 AM

Mt Vernon, TX

©Geezer Bela in Exile