sharing

I wrote a long-ish post on Facebook to share about Scout as though telling everyone I know would make it seem more real. 

Mostly stuff I've been sharing here for weeks... with the addition our perfect last day... We'd made grilled cheese, had fried bananas and icecream (his favorite), and took a family nap in the rumpus room. Scout went from At and me on one couch to Big A and Huckie on the other, before curling up with Nu on the floor. We took another tiny walk in the backyard and then Dr. R came. Scout went too quickly. The Doc said it would take 10-15 minutes, but it took Scout barely a minute. My baby must have been so ready.

I'm glad I shared on FB. There was so much love for Scout and so many well wishes on his onward journey. They had just started at the crematorium, so this was a send off with people all over the world wishing him well as I listened to the Aditya Hridayam over and over. I had mentioned on the post how he'd never managed to make a kitty friend despite trying very hard, and it led to the sweetest blessing from a high school friend: "may he finally make friends with the kittens... they are definitely friendlier where he is."

the day after

It feels empty. 

I feel emptied out.

My eyes and head hurt.

My whole body hurts.

(But I have a very clean house.)

Scout Akshaya

from April 18, 2013

a forever love

the boy with a blaze

Stuff's getting real. When Nu headed up to bed tonight, they said wonderingly that this would be the last time they would be saying goodnight to Scout. So yes, a lot of "lasts" today. Also a lot of locking myself in a room with Big A and just sobbing, sobbing, sobbing.

But also such a good day when we got to do all the things Scout loves, and he had a bit of an appetite so lots of treats and pancakes and pizza. We went for a slow walk in the backyard and he even did a little jog back to me. And--I thought I'd never see it again as he hadn't done this since his E.R. visit--he did his "wolf puppy" bit where he wriggles on his back growling softly and then I ask "is that my wolf puppy with a fuzzy belly?" and rub his fuzzy belly. (I didn't actually rub his belly, because that's where his internal bleed is, I rubbed the little blaze on his chest instead.)

And I thank the universe for friends who have been checking in on us and sending love. And sometimes accommodating weird requests from me. Like, I'm not sure if an afterlife exists, but I was nevertheless in a panic this afternoon because Scout wouldn't know anyone there until I remembered one of my favorites--Big Murphy our old neighbor who'd taken puppy Scout under his wing to teach him all the doggie stuff. So I messaged NGF (my bestie and also the person in my will in charge of making medical decisions on my behalf in case Big A is unable) and asked if she could ask her Murphy to look out for Scout and she immediately said she'd let Murph know to look out for Scout and hangout with him. And now I feel there's a plan beyond the vet and beyond the goodbyes.

I guess it's tomorrow now. I've gone over the plan over and over in my head, but I'm not ready. 

Pic: Scout at two weeks old. It would be another six weeks before we could bring him home, but we'd all fallen in love and I was already calling him my "blaze-y boy" although Aunt R said he looked like a "potato."

Bunnies and Fried Bananas

Bunnies: That time one early, misty morning when Scout saw a bunny (or "baila rabbit" in Nu speak) for the first time. He was so overcome by wonder, he gave himself a shake and promptly sat himself down as if deciding to take some time to process this magical being. He's since chased many bunnies in the backyard, but that first one was a vision.

Fried Bananas: That time when Scout was crying... scampering between the rest of us eating Thai takeout in the rumpus room and the kitchen until we got up to look... It turned out he was crying because he'd helped himself to the fried bananas, but he'd now nosed the container too far across the counter and couldn't reach his self-bestowed treats anymore. He usually gets some banana after dinner most days.

Pic: First road trip with At, Scout, and Nu together; circa 2013.

"how can you just leave me standing/alone in a world so cold"*

We never had pets growing up because my parents thought I was incapable of handling the inevitable reality of pet loss--talk about a self-fulfilling prophecy! (To be fair, this was probably well grounded, because I would do stuff like cry for hours about hurt butterflies and birds and whatnot. I wasn't an easy child.)

This means that when I met Scout, I just fell so hard for him. He was my dream puppy baby and when Huckie came along the next year, they became the perpetual toddlers in the large family I yearned for. Big A and I have always been "Dada" and "Mama" to them.

So these ten years with Scout coincide with some of the most golden years of my parenting life--the mischief and unpredictability and joy and surprise and beauty and busyness--and saying goodbye to Scout feels like saying goodbye to a stage of life I loved so much. It's one of the few periods I'd be happy to live through all over again. Wish you could stay, Scoutie. You're always so wonderful at helping me figure things out.   

Pic: A light saber fight (dance?) from 2013. Scout has the green light saber, he played with it all that summer and chewed off the tip and yes--I still have it. 

Title: Today marks seven years since Prince left us--also too soon.

it's almost time

This morning I had to pry Scout's wolf mouth open to slide pills hidden in a lump of icecream into him. These last couple of days have been the first time Scout has ever been uninterested in food or the outdoors. Everyone said Scout would let us know when it was time... it feels like he's telling us now.

He's so weary, but still the Scoutie who wants to be as near us and get all the pets as possible though. I want for Scout what I'd want for myself--to pass away at home surrounded by loved ones. We have an appointment with the hospice vet for Monday. 

Pic: One of my favorite pictures of Scout. In the old house, he'd lean on the window sill with his stuffie under one arm and get so excited if he saw any creatures swim past us in the river. He wanted to be friends with every living thing when he was a baby. I first posted this here.