Lady Lingers
Great acts of love are rarely in print but I still wanted to share it...
I lost my dog Lady April 2024 at 2:22am – 222s are my thing. And this is a poem I wrote plus some more.
I love the understanding I gave Lady about life... To be wild was to be free.
To love each other and say whee! Nothing but you and me.
I’d relive it again...
She lingers only in my regret.
Did I do enough for her?
I know she is heaven sent.
I saw a rainbow bridge carry her to the other side. And that she still chases and changes me.
Life without love is not complete.
She taught me to love the unloved and unseen.
My dog Lady, a Pekingese, kept me going in life for many years. She came to me from someone who was moving into an apartment and couldn’t take a pet. I didn’t get all the details but I learned they “played rough.” She was so scared when she came to me. She was five. She couldn’t be easily rehomed because of her trauma, attachment issues and later she developed high medical needs. She would struggle eating because she needed wet food right out of the can in the moment often changing times. It couldn’t be let out long. Her communicating things like that to me took time and effort to understand. I would cradle her head in my hands. I sat against her when she was sleeping to get used to human touch. I gave her toys which she went wild over. We took a lot of walks which made her happiest. Some times we stayed outside all day.
There would be times I would find her staring at me, so humanlike. She would sniff around the rooms as if taking in that it was her home. I helped her swim each summer but holding her as she doggy paddled through a lake.
I gave her dog massages. I brushed her. I knew to watch out for a hotspot and be careful with skin allergies. I tried all different foods until she liked them but I still gave her human food at times.
I knew if I let home, let this world, she would suffer. We were tied to each other. She saved me. I saved her.
So I took on freelance work and stay at home projects. I made sure to be there 24/7 in a time I could do so.
As an animal lover, I have been told “It’s just a dog.” Animals are spiritual beautiful beings here to guide us in some way. We must have compassion for them. I found myself looking into her eyes and singing to her as I rubbed her tummy. She would get excited and race around when I told her it was time for a walk. I would let her go out as long as she wanted, as often as she wanted, and she would determine when we came home. I had my best talks with God while walking her. And my best ideas.
I always felt like running around for her in the grass was like “checking her Facebook feed.” I would tease her and ask what messages she got form other dogs. Her gait turned into a prideful stride. She pranced. She ran the moment we got outside. She ran to other dogs and was friendly. She had a whole new personality.
Being the guardian to this dog made me see how much love and attention animals need. I volunteered for my local humane society, and I would be sad that dogs were in cages most of the day without a companion or affection. I would be sad that cats were in confined places and let out to a play area once or twice a day for a limited amount of time. Sure, there were volunteers to interact with them. But this seemed like a sad lonely thing about animal shelters. I gained the belief animals shouldn’t be home alone all day either. They need space and stimulation.
She had unexpected health issues develop of itchy skin, nausea and throwing up food, anal gland issues, eye irritation and more. I had to go through 5 vets to get all the right products and care. I knew always she would never last in a shelter. She needed in the moment care and to be read right. She had all different cries, an unusual experience but I always figured it out.
I had some “animal communication” experiences. I had a moment with my dog, Lady, once where she sent me pictures in my head of her favorite times at the beach. She thought she was swimming by herself. I received her innocence and joy when I pet her. She showed me she was
thankful I healed her of her past owner’s abuse and neglect and health issues as much as I could. When she died that night I heard her collar jingle and had a dream she wanted me to be an activist for animals. But by that time – all her issues had been fixed. It took years but I did it.
I let her bite me slightly at times to help her take meds. I stuck my finger up her butt with a glove on to help with her anal glands between vet visits. I had no idea what I was doing but it worked. I had a vitamin she took and a spray for her itch. I had a ton of products I tried that worked. Prozyme, probiotic, tramadol (temporarily for an unexplained pain that passed), benadryl, vitamins, itch shot, Genesis Itch/Hot Spot Spray (I list this name because it was the best), metronidazole, acid reflux and food for gastro issues and anal gland help.
No matter what she went through, she was so trusting and happy. She became so attached. When I went to get the mail or anywhere, she would sit at the door waiting for me to come back. She was so smart that we would walk as long as she wanted, and she would turn around and decide when we would go back home. I freaked out more than her and she was pretty chill about it all.
Then at the end, new troubles emerged which was disappointing to me as I solved it all. She had trouble chewing, seeing and hearing. She got a lump on her neck that we continually drained as she was old to risk surgery. She lost a lot of weight. And she had a fall. A chiropractor made it worse which was the night I put her down. But I experienced slight miracles where a few nights she would come to me and I would massage it until it felt better and she would be happy and go to sleep. She would come to me and spread her arms across my body and I massaged. Again, so humanlike. But I knew it was bad. She was never fixed and the vet didn’t want to do it at 13. She was crying for a neighbor’s dog and walking there constantly. It had never been that difficult with it because she used her bed all day and night. I actually knew she couldn’t handle losing that.
We had silent conversation. She would come to me or look at me and I’d know what to do right away. Even =l the end.
Again the vet didn’t want to put her under.
When we tried the chiropractor, at first it made it all better. Then that night she really struggled. We had a choice to put her down the next day and let her suffer all night or wait weeks to see if anything could improve more. We had gabapentin in her ear and it didn’t touch the pain. She stopped letting us put things in her mouth at all. Before she would open her mouth even if biting and take a med in peanut butter. She outsmarted it as if she knew she wouldn’t be able to chew or swallow right. I knew it was time. I called the local animal ER and told them the context of failing health and quality of life which she couldn’t handle plus back pain. They were then able to take us right away.
There were moments I fixed her newest ailments. I got her to eat baby food since she couldn’t chew her food at all. I put little bits of soft treats in her mouth that she could handle at a time. I gave her broth. I stayed with her every second. I carried her around so she didn’t worsen her back. I slept wherever she did even if it was on the floor.
One morning I woke up and she was staring with an understanding she knew it was the end and as if she was worried how I’d handle it. I never had that level awareness experienced in a pet before and I had quite a few I bonded with. It was like we switched places. There were mess she would make sure I was sleeping if I was in my bed. When I realized this, I would lay my head down even if not tired yet and pretend so she would go to sleep too.
Our last night together, I was away from the vets that didn’t help right as I had to go to a few to get all the products. She was in a big room at the pet ER. She hated small rooms; they gave her anxiety. While walking she no longer seemed in pain. But I knew with all the issues it was humane to end it. She was comfortable. I gave her water. I held her. I got a picture with her. She wandered all over the room and I crawled around with her and told her how much I loved her. She passed at 2:22am. I only know this because someone checked right after it was 2:23am. 222 is a special number to me.
I told her right before “You’re going sleepiez, it’s bed time.” I would always say that at home.
All our moments together passed through my mind. Her ability to say “waffle” at times to get waffles. She’d hand me her paw with the direction “Paw.” Her scooting her butt and the amazing surprise she let me fix it with my own finger. Now that’s love!
I would get her hyped over every little thing.
She loved car rides. She loved when I picked her up to hold her. She would break away from it within a few minutes as a trauma response. She’d wake up and cry for me as if expecting me to be there. After I walked her I generally picked up the mail and she sat by the door to make sure I came back. She looked around when I was in the living room with a family member to make sure everything was okay.
I knew if one thing failed or fell apart she wouldn’t be able to handle life again. She was that hypersensitive. She believed she was meant to be the center of attention. She often woke me up with excited barks and pushed me to walk her. Her will was stronger than any being I had ever known.
She chose when we returned from walks but looked at me for reassurance when we got to the garage door. It was like she was looking for routine though her needs were all different times of the day. I once joked I had an “autistic dog.”
There was a time I was struggling with insomnia. She made me play with her new toy all nigh in response, which I frequently provided, as if to comfort me.
The night I put her down (I hate that phrase – helped her go to peace) – I massaged her back and she looked at me like “Not this time.” It wouldn’t be relieved again.
After she passed, I had unique experiences with bugs and a spiritual dream of a snake. She wanted me to love the unloved. It was a spiritual message. She was still the boss. It was like I saw life in everything. As a vegan and animal rights activist (and no, I didn’t feed her vegan food – I just don’t’ think we’re there yet), I made her my motivation. I made her my life.
I looked through our pictures and found one she was mid-sneeze. She was looking straight at the camera. She looked like she was smiling. It is a happy picture. But how did she find the camera? I’m still in shock about that. But she found and saved me more than I did for her. She taught me everything would be fine if I held on. She responded to English when I’d say “Maybe we shouldn’t take her” not even adding “to walk.” This was after her fall. She cried as if she knew. It was surreal. She loved dog music I’d put on; asmr; and listening to me read my work out loud as I typed up articles and books for my own creative projects. Anytime she came into a room, I stopped all I was doing to praise her. I still wait for her to enter a room to do the same thing but instead she entered my entire heart and has not let go since. It’s the best friend that I never knew I needed – a paw instead of a hand to help me understand life and love.
She also snorted like a pig; jumped on the coffee table like a cat; and stared into my eyes like a human. I imagined her an angel here to represent all who needed us as animals are innocent and pure. It’s hard to sleep without hearing her snore nearby but sometimes...I feel her linger...I told her she would always be my baby. I felt, in my heart, she was my child.
Sarah Jeanne Browne is a wisdom collector who assisted Tiny Buddha with such projects and then formed her own philosophy; writer for Forbes and other popular self-help sites (and now deconstructs self-help as the industry can be misleading); speaker for organizations such as The Peal Center, Pennsylvania Youth Leadership Network, The Woodlands Foundation, Reimagine, various podcasts and more; activist for human and animal rights; innovator and problem solver such as creating a way to connect with kids for EndCAN - LOVES: Listen, Open Up, Validate, Explain, and Solve Together; brand and social media consultant; and lived experience speaker and writer with bipolar, dyscalculia, and AuDHD.
