On Being Coogee

I am in a pretty darn good mood this morning. But then, we Rat Terrier dogs are addicted to good moods anyway. The fact is, though, I am about to be put down in 10 minutes and wanted to share some final doggie thoughts, if I may.

It was a brain tumor that has put me down. So right now I'm at the wonderful Banfield vets here in the PetSmart store in Saratoga. We are preparing to bring an end to a life I lived so completely that I am now ready to go.

I just heard my owner and our beloved vet, Dr Akawi, talking quietly as I slowly walk blindly in small circles around the room. I interrupted my tumor-driven ritual just long enough to ask if I could use the computer on the desk nearby to dash off a few lines to you while they went over the process and procedures for sending me off.

Heck, it's truly no big deal to me. My Sugar Daddy, Charlie, however, has been crying and crying and ... well, we discussed my dying at length last night as we lay in bed.I did most of the talking as I softly explained to a completely shattered man that I was ready to go. The time had come to help me escape the raging ravages of my ghastly brain tumor.

I have a small head, you know, so a small tumor is all fate requires to do a lot of damage quickly to even a well muscled body and well steeled mind. Just three weeks ago I began to feel a bit sluggish and noticed I was running more slowly and enjoying it less. Only a few days later my right eye went dead, soon to be followed by total and frightful blindness. Then my appetite and thirst went, along with total loss of any hind quarter coordination.Sugar Daddy carted me everywhere as I lost my orientation, balance, and all sense of self-confidence.Hugs and kisses and strong arms help, but functional independence helps even more. And I had become totally disabled. The tumor was killing me, and all too efficiently, I must say.

Dr Akawi and my Sugar Daddy Charlie reluctantly agreed with me that it was time to let me go from here to allow me to move on to there.

I let go alright. I dropped two peanut-size cute little poo-poos on the floor and followed that up with a big ole wee-wee that left a huge yellow, weird smelling puddle right there in the middle of the floor. (We dogs often do that when we know we are about to leave the present for the future. It makes for a lighter, faster journey -- we hope.)

Then Charlie got on the floor with me and propped himself up against the wall. For a 63yr old man grappling with a severe spinal cord injury, he did well. As his 7 yr old Rat Terrier service dog, I'll take a little 11th hour credit for his mobility if I may.

Once positioned, my Sugar Daddy gathered up my soft, thick sheepskin cushion I love so much, put it between his legs, plopped me on it and gathered me into his arms. I felt so relaxed, comfortable, and secure that I looked up at him and with my emotions, said to him, "It's ok. Let's get on with it. I understand. I'm ready to go."

No more running alongside his car. You'll need to go to Youtube.com and type in "dogee" in the search box to watch me exercise his too-slow Prius. But as I prepare myself to be put down, let me tell you that running 4 miles and more at a pop nearly every single day for more than 5 years was so much fun.

So great. So exhilirating. The best. I will so miss those famous runs around the Sears Mall (4 loops), or from BestBuy to Lowes and back, or up the long Schuylerville Hill, or along those quiet roads at the Saratoga Battlefield.

I'll miss all those heavenly motorcycle trike rides too. Sugar Daddy would strap me on the rear passenger seat of his gorgeous blue 6-cylinder 1993 Honda Goldwing trike (complete with black canopy to protect me from the sun). I'd ride with my right front leg on his left shoulder and my left front leg precisely balanced on the rear seat armrest.

Yes, a happy thank-you to all of you who took my photo or waved to me while I rode on the trike. While I often waved back with SugDad's help while at a stoplight, it was the smile on your faces that I so loved and will forever miss.

Finally, I can't leave without sending a huge bundle of love, kisses, and joy to my Sugar Mom, my Ellyn Kerr. When Charlie was laid low by his brutal spinal cord injury, she cared for me day and night. I will miss you so much, my dearest.

OK, I'm about ready to go now. So no more rotisserie chicken, or liver, or ham, or hot dogs or lamb chops, or roast beef. Damn, that menu was delicious, day in and day out, year after year. Yummy, running for miles and then being cooked for three times a day!
(Oops, better scratch "damn," given my present circumstances, wouldn't you agree?)

Charlie is hugging me now, gently kissing my nose, and stroking my neck. We're ready. All the last minute cuddling feels so good, but then those drippy, salty tears -- are they really necessary SugDad? Lordy, lordy, I'm blind, can't eat or drink, my rear legs are dead, and that tumor on my brain even started hurting this morning. I was not living these
last two weeks, only existing at best. So let's get on with it, mates. I am ready to go.

Charlie did promise to share with you all his poem he whispered to me as we snuggled with uncommon love and security together in bed last night.
I'll leave you with it....

Sunk deep in a history of pain and death
with love the ageless stain.
Lurks a smile whose only thought could be
that to cry would be in vain.

----

With that, an injection was given through Coogee's right lower leg vein. Two or three minutes later SugDad sensed a warm serenity wash over his fading Coogee as he began to let go and relax once again. Then came the second injection and Charlie felt his baby's heart stop almost immediately. Coogee was free. He was gone. Lucky doggie!

Wiping away tears of loss, Charlie unwrapped his arms, released Coogee to assistant Mark, slowly struggled to his feet, collected and folded Coogee's favorite sheepskin blanket and left.
"Now what" was all he could think as Coogee's Sugar Daddy wobbled home in tears to an empty home filled only with the now endless needs Coog had left behind. Amid unbearable spinal cord pain and unanswered pleas for Coogee to return, the question will arise, time and time again:
Now what --
and for how long.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Charles Hedbring is a Swedish-American who also enjoys permanent residency status in Australia. Dr Hedbring is the director of Program STEPPE, a remedial and special education computer consulting firm. Its primary purpose is to assist parents, clinicians, administrators, and practitioners apply appropriate computer technology to the learning needs of four specific groups of special learners: Mentally learning handicapped individuals; immigrants and others devoted to learning English as a second language; the elderly; and young 'normally developing' children, ages three through six. He has published several papers regarding his work, has created more than a dozen software programs, has completed a book-length manuscript, and continues to engage in a variety of activities relevant to the learning handicapped, the elderly, and English-language training.

Alternate Link: http://axcs.vox.com/library/post/on-being-coogee.html