Sweet Moose
Someday I’ll wish upon a star
Wake up where the clouds are far behind me
Where trouble melts like lemon drops
High above the chimney tops
That’s where you’ll find me
~ Somewhere over the rainbow
Another piece of my heart went to heaven on Friday. Moose, the dog that Hannah helped Andrew pick out 12 ½ years ago, passed away fairly suddenly. He was old for a big dog, but he was still fairly spry and active. We’d had some warning signs lately that his time was running out, but we weren’t expecting to do what we had to do a few days ago. After a pretty normal day for Moose – a short walk around the neighborhood, scarfing up his dog food and begging for pizza crusts, climbing our stairs to sleep next to our bed, as he always did – he woke up the next day short of breath. As Bill and I watched his breathing grow more rapid and his condition deteriorate, we made the difficult decision with Andrew to take him to the Winslow Clinic, where we knew he would probably be euthanized.
I thought I was prepared for what we had to do, but saying another goodbye to a member of the family hurt like hell. I was at least grateful that the vet, Dr. Lisa Barfield, could see immediately that Moose was dying, and that there was nothing that could be done to save him. She acted quickly to stop his suffering. After he was gone, Lisa examined him and could feel a large tumor in his belly. She speculated that Moose may have had a sudden, catastrophic bleed. It explained the quick onset of his difficulty breathing and inability to stand or walk. Knowing we did the right thing still didn’t ease my pain.
Moose had a special connection to Hannah. She had helped Andrew select him from a large litter of puppies at Countryman Stables, where he was born on August 30, 2009. Hannah had relapsed by then, and Kathy Countryman wanted to ensure that Andrew and Hannah would get the pick of the litter. My gentle giant, Andrew, chose the largest of the puppies, “Monster”, as he was first called. With a purebred Brittany Spaniel mother and a black Lab father, Moose looked mostly like a golden but didn’t have the temperament of one. He was hypersensitive, sometimes grouchy, and did not like to be cuddled or hugged. Still, he and our Golden Retriever, Bear, were good buddies. Today when we ask Bear if he’s ready to go for a walk, he looks around the house for Moose, his traveling companion.
Back in 2010, on the day that Moose turned one year old, Hannah died. As I described in my book, three days after her passing, Hannah visited my friend, “Isabel”, to express her concern for Moose and for her brother Andrew. She told Isabel that she wanted Andrew to take care of their dog. Now that Moose has gone, I feel her loss all over again. Much like when Hannah’s cat, Leia, died, I felt like I had lost my daughter once more. As Moose slipped into a peaceful sleep, I told him, “Go be with Hannah now.”
Three days later, my heart still hurts when I think of sweet Moose. But the pain is precious to me. I loved that loyal yet grouchy dog. He was a part of our family with a strong connection to Hannah. Missing him, I miss my daughter again. But I’m so grateful to have had them in my life.