Lemmy was the greatest dog I have ever known. Let me start from the beginning. My husband and I rescued Lemmy from East Valley Animal Shelter in Van Nuys, CA. He was a gigantic two year old Shepherd who had been dropped off by his previous owners because they claimed they were never home to give him attention. Here is the thing, we had gone to the pound to rescue a different dog, a young husky. When we got there, another family (with a little boy) also wanted the husky. I didn't want to go through the bidding process and brake the little boys heart so we let the husky go. In the cage next to the Husky was this beautiful German Shepherd. It was a spontaneous decision to take Lemmy, and one of the best decisions I have ever made. We had no idea what he was going to be like, whether he would like our two cats, whether he would destroy the house, be aggressive, etc, but I had a gut feeling he was special. We brought him home that rainy February afternoon and fell in love with him immediately. He was a bit clumsy and definitely had separation anxiety in the beginning. He also had a crooked front foot which was most likely the result of a broken leg that hadn't healed right. It didn't slow him down one bit though. He was strong, energetic, loving and so loyal. All he wanted in life was to be near my husband and I.
Lemmy was with us for about a year and eight months before he passed. He showed no real signs of anything wrong until the day before his death. He quickly became very lethargic, vomiting, not eating. We called the vet that evening and they suggested we hold off until the morning, assuming it was something he ate that didn't agree with him. When the next morning came and he wasn't feeling any better we took him to our local vet. They ran some tests and discovered that his kidneys were failing. I was unaware at the time how critical this was. I was certain that he would be treated and get better. Within those last twenty four hours the vet tried everything they could but he was getting worse. Around 1:00 AM Saturday, August 27th., we decided that it was his time and permitted the vet to humanely euthanize him. This was probably the hardest decision of my life.
I spent the entire weekend re-living what had just happened, wondering if there was anything I could have done different that would have saved his life. The test results showed that Lemmy always had bad kidney's and that this outcome was inevitable. I cried so much that my body ached everywhere. Lemmy was my sweet loving dog. I looked forward to seeing him after work every day and taking him on long walks and hikes on the weekends. One day he was playing ball with me and the next day he was gone. I kept thinking how unfair life was. In my eyes, it wasn't his time. We had plans for the future with him, I wasn't ready to let him go. Even as I type this now, my eyes are watering and my throat is tightening up. I felt he was taken from me too soon.
The amount of love I received from friends and family during the weekend and following week was incredible. Almost everyone I spoke to had suffered through the loss of a pet and were able to share so many wise words. But the most amazing thing was that everyone let me grieve. Everyone understood that I had to go through it (and still have to) in my own time and my own way. That weekend I spent with my dear aunt riding horses and my mom who brought over her puppy maltipoo. The following week all my friends and colleagues embraced me, cried with me, listened to me, and helped me. My wonderful husband held me as I cried on his shoulder. He was strong for me even though he was suffering too. Lemmy was his boy, his buddy, they had a very special bond. I had so much support and love. I am truly lucky and blessed.
The following Monday I decided to go to a yoga class taught by one of my very favorite teachers Jeanne Heileman. Just to see people around me who didn't know about what had happened helped me process the fact that life goes on. Going through those asanas were just as much torture as they were healing. I spent a lot of my first yoga class weeping in Balasana (child's pose), something I never ever do. I knew I needed to be kind to myself. I noticed my fellow yogi's breathing so peacefully, smiling. I couldn't help but wonder, will I ever smile again? Will I ever laugh again? To me, it felt like Lemmy's passing literally broke my heart. Then Jeanne approached me. She recommended a book called "The Tibetan Book of the Living and Dying" which I am enjoying very much and recommend to anyone who has a hard time with death (most of us). She helped me see that Lemmy's physical body was just a shell for his soul. All the love we gave him during this life helped him move on to the next one. While it's okay to mourn his death, we should embrace his life and all the joy he brought to everyone and everything thing that ever got to spend time with him. By remembering him in this light, we actually hep him travel peacefully from this life to the next. Whatever you believe in, I think that this is a good way of looking as death.
I still struggle with the fact that he died so young and so sudden. I still sense his presence, the sound of his footsteps running toward me when I grabbed his leash or opened the door. I miss his smell, his hair everywhere, his sweet eyes staring when he wanted a bone or a rub. I have to remember Lemmy in all his glory. We were meant to find him at the shelter that day. He was meant to spend his last year and eight months with us. He had a truly charmed life. While he was with us he went on hikes almost every day, he went to Big Bear, Joshua Tree and Camping in Bishop, Ca. He had great friends and really great times. The entire house was his bed, he was family.
Lemmy will always live with me in my heart. I will always miss him and always love him. He was my baby boy who in my eyes, could never do wrong. He brought nothing but joy to my life. I'm doing better now than I was a week ago and I will be better next week than I am now. I took a great yoga class today with another favorite teacher Joan Hyman. I laughed with my fellow yogi's and didn't rest in Balasana once (although I wanted to). I guess what I'm trying to say is, losing a loved one is hard, but by living life, loving and being kind to yourself and those around you, you can create a quality of life that is worth dying for. Death is a shift from one life to the next. I just hope that in my life on this planet, I can give as much joy and love as Lemmy gave to me. May you rest in peace Lemmy (and run carefree with your doggie angel brothers and sisters), we miss you and we will always love you!
((hugs))
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