Here is my story of a beautiful obnoxious mix of goodness dog named Sport. I wish I could tell you that I had this dog since a puppy, but that isn’t the case.
Sport came into my life when I met my husband; Sport was his for seven beautiful years before I came into the picture. But, I will tell you something, the first day I met Sport we had an instant connection. His heart belonged to me as mine belonged to him. My husband often joked that I only stuck around for Sport – I guess he will never know! As the years passed, Sport was there for me through schooling, life changes, departing loved ones, sickness, depression, just about everything as I was for him.
Sport had epilepsy and seizures that riddled him. I watched as medication would be upped, but his situation pretty much stayed the same. In my naïve young mind at the time, always thought he would be just fine and never wanted to think different.
The year 2012 came upon us, and good old Sport was 13. I knew deep in my mind that things were changing with my dear love. Our special walks became light strolls, stairs were made for the bed, and he didn’t chase the truck anymore, (yes! He was one of them, he chased the truck) his belly became swollen, he vomited once and a while, and he even bit my husband, but I kept chalking it up to old age.
My husband and I were getting married in August and in my selfish way, I prayed and wished every night as he snored beside me that he would stay around till after the wedding. Our wedding came, and Sport was there being his typical, loud self making sure every guest knew he was there, my wedding was complete!
The months started to roll by, and I had left a job that I went to school for but realized it just wasn’t for me. The silver lining to this was I was home with Sport; he was my partner to figure out what I wanted to do in life.
I began to notice that Sport started to sleep more and just wasn’t interested in going outside like he once was. Again, he was an old boy. But then the seizures became longer and harder on him. I would lie down next to him after an episode and rub him down and plead to him softly “Just stay with me a little longer Sport,” and he did.
Christmas passed and I had the only thing I wanted with me, and that was him. Then January came, the month I will always remember. It was a cold Thursday night and my friend had stopped over to hang out with my husband and I. It took a few minutes, but I noticed that Sport hadn’t even come out to greet her. I found Sport on the bed in his usual spot pretty listless. I rubbed his sweet face of his, and that’s when I noticed blood. I lifted his lip and saw pale gums and more blood. My husband rushed him off to the vet while I stayed home believing he would come home to me.
At 7 pm the phone rang, when I answered it, it was my husband, and all I remember from that conversation was “Hunny it’s not good, the doctor is saying it’s time.” I told my husband I was on my way. I wish I could tell you what the doctor said when I arrived, but it was all a blur. All I remember was my beautiful boy, wagging his tail happy to see me, his person. The flood of emotions overcame me, and I screamed for everyone to get out. All I wanted at that moment was one last time with my furever friend. I hugged my old man tight and cried like a baby. I remember saying, “we’re going to be ok right?” and at that very moment, he gave me the biggest lick right straight across the face, there was my answer.
I wish I could tell you I stayed till the very end when that last breath was taken, but I didn’t. I was scared and I ran to the truck and waited while my husband stayed with him. It might have been 10 minutes, 20 minutes or half an hour, but whatever it was I spent those moments reliving every moment of our existence together.
I’ll never forget Sport! He was my first love and because of him, he is who made me realize what I was meant to do and that is work in veterinary care to help others along in those very last moments. The end of Sports story you can say help shape the beginning of mine.
“The one best place to bury a good dog is in the heart of his master.”
Written by: Julie Churchill, Receptionist