Dog Story - Sad: Goodbye Brenna

Republished to Groups

Yesterday Nan and I had to do one of the hardest things a person ever has to do in this life. We said goodbye to Brenna the Dog.

If you've read my column for any length of time, you probably know about Brenna. She was, in my opinion, the best dog that it is possible for a dog to be.

But then I might be a little bit biased.

Brenna was ten years old. This is pretty ancient for a Doberman, but she still had the strong spark of a puppy in her. She was fanatically curious, interested in everything - although, like all dogs, her interest grew even more intense if a particular everything promised to involve food. And if you?d ever met her you would know that she loved every living creature.

Except maybe squirrels.

It seems that Brenna had an inoperable tumor at the top of her lungs that had been growing, unnoticed, for some time. Nevertheless, she was the picture of health, and I even had the hubris recently to blather quite a bit about what great shape she was in for a Dobie her age.

A couple of weeks ago that tumor suddenly shifted. It began to push against her windpipe, making it more and more difficult for her to breathe. For a while she still seemed completely fine, just coughing occasionally as if she had swallowed something that probably would have been better off un-swallowed.

But by yesterday the problem had progressed to the point that if she tried to lie down, or even sit, the tumor would shut off her air almost completely and slowly strangle her.

So she stood in the middle of the room, as still as she could, gasping for breath. And as she stood there she looked at me with a look of slightly puzzled misery on her face that I'd never seen before.

It was nothing like the "begging-for-a-handout" look, or the "yoo-hoo-I-gotta-pee" look, or the "I-had-a-little-accident-in-the-other-room" look, or even the "how-about-shoving-a-knuckle-in-my-right-ear-because-that-would-probably-feel-good" look.

I knew that she was saying, "I'm not quite sure what's happening to me, but I could use a little help here." And as much as I tried to deny the reality of the situation, I knew that helping her was my job.

I have to say that for the eight years Brenna was with us, I tried really hard to repay the unconditional, limitless love that she just gave out naturally, every minute of our lives together. And I also have to say that I don't believe I was ever able to even come close. So I guess the best I could do was to be willing to face up to my duty yesterday when the time came.

I do find comfort in knowing that the last thing Brenna knew in this world was the touch of my hand scratching her ears, and the sound of my voice reminding her that I loved her.

And to prove it, my tears.

First published in What I've Learned So Far... April 6, 2006

Copyright © 2006, Michael Ball