Josh, neurodivergent: I have always been keenly aware of both my inability to connect with people, and my ability to connect with animals. I’ve always imagined that how I am with animals is more akin to how most people are with each other. As a result, I have always surrounded myself with furry friends I understood as opposed to furless ones I didn’t. Early in 2007, I adopted Smeagol, Valentine’s Day in fact, and last night I had to say goodbye to him.
At the time, I had two dogs and thought a third would be nice for both of them to have a pack, and me to have another little buddy around. I had Mia, a black lab-pit mix as my eldest and Fenris, a chow- golden retriever mix that was two. Mia was an adult, and really just wasn’t thrilled with an energetic puppy wanting to play 24/7. My thinking was he needed a playmate, so I went to a local animal shelter. I always liked big dogs, so I wanted to get something on the larger size and I had plenty of room in the house I was in, a nice back yard, and all of that stuff. Getting to the animal shelter, the larger animals were kept in the back kennels so I began making my way back there when through one of the windows in a random door something caught my eye. I’m not even sure what it had been, but I looked over. When I did, a little back and white thing was sitting on the second story of the cages so he was about shoulder height, and I can only describe what he did as waving to me. I thought it was cute, so figured I’d say hi- but he was a little guy and in the small pet rooms. Or so I thought. It was clear as I walked up he wasn’t aggressive so I didn’t hesitate to offer him a pet and that was that. I knew he was the one for me that day.
Upon getting home he immediately fit right on. I think Mia decided he was her baby and Fen was ready to play, which he did amazingly and unexpectedly gently. I had decided I would crate train such a little guy, and that evening set one up beside the bed so he’d know he wasn’t alone but have some security in a new place. As I was putting some blankets and stuff in it to make it comfortable, I looked over and he was asleep on my pillow. Were it a person, it would have been cause for alarm and concerning. That’s my pillow. But he looked so comfortable and content, and was clearly very tired from how quickly he passed out. He slept on my pillow almost exclusively, and when he didn’t he slept touching me.
I’ve had so many pets over the years from fish and large aquariums, quite a variety of lizards from small skinks to over four-foot iguana, rodents, a bird, and of course the more traditional cats and dogs. While I loved every one of them, there was something special with Smeagol. Right off the bat when he got home, anytime I would be in any room for more than a few minutes and he thought I was going to be there a bit, would begin the task of bringing every dog toy in the house to that room. At first I didn’t think about it, but would occasionally move from room to room to see how many times he’d move his hoard and it was clear the answer was all the rooms and all the times. Hence, his name which yes, is a Lord of the Rings reference to the hobbit that Golom was previously.
A few years ago, he just wasn’t himself and as an aging dog I got him looked at. He was having a tough time breathing normally, and I had feared he had gotten COVID as it was around the time an article had come out where it had been found by a vet. Truthfully, I didn’t read the article and never fact checked it, but it apparently was in the back of my mind. The good news was he didn’t have COVID, but was in advanced heart disease. I was reassured this didn’t mean it was the end, and that it's possible with medication and care it may never get worse but that it could also get severely worse very quickly. He responded very well to the medication and when he went back a month later they were very optimistic. My fear was that I couldn’t afford the medication which was very expensive, and he felt it was likely he would be ok and just advised me to keep him from really getting his heart rate up.
This past June Smeagol was in serious distress so I took him to the emergency vet. Apparently he was just short of passing, but they managed to get him in an oxygen tank and medicated. I was warned that while he was good, he would need a very serious approach to medicine and treatment the rest of his life, and more importantly that it may only buy weeks or days. He had unfortunately advanced beyond heart disease into heart failure and they made it very clear that there was no fix for what was happening. It bought me five months, which I wouldn’t trade for the world.
Yesterday, when I got home from the gym Smeagol was not doing well and acting very much as he had the last time which had happened from time to time and was very manageable before. He had a medication that calmed his breathing and numbed his airways which usually worked pretty quickly and very well. It didn’t this time so I became concerned. I watched him like a hawk and when the medication wasn’t kicking in we went to the emergency vet as it was past normal hours. They told me that my fear at the end was accurate, and that he was even beyond what they could do there and I would need the main hospital’s ICU for any real chance- but that it was a very significantly small chance at best. In fact they said they were not confident that he would even survive having an IV placed and that the risk of sudden death was far higher than they liked. I have always thought the worst death was dying afraid, and the idea of him suffocating alone and that isn’t what I wanted for him, so I made the decision to let him pass peacefully and comfortably or at least that is how I choose to think of it. Sadly, he was in such a bad way that even the sedative and efforts the ER had made were not very helpful if they were any at all. I was given some time before the procedure, but it was very brief because already he was worsening. It was as peaceful as I could hope for considering the circumstances, and he was in my arms until the end. The doctor that helped us was fantastic and even cried and said what I assume was a silent prayer.
As much as it kills me, I am truly thankful that he doesn’t hurt any more and isn’t afraid. I know he is far better off even if I have to be broken for it. He was my best friend, saw me through any and everything, and he will always be in my heart. I am thankful for countless memories that mean everything to me.
Comments