So I have been trying to stay away from the blog, and keep up my spirits. Every day I seem to get a little bit better at accepting the fact that my precious puppy is no longer suffering, and he is much happier and healthier where he is now. I have been trying not to dwell on things, and I have tucked all of Goliath's things in a drawer in my room.
I had a set back the other day when I opened his drawer to look for something. His fatty oil supplement (as i mentioned before) for his hair loss on his ears, spilled in his drawer. It was absorbed by the sympathy cards i received in regards to his passing, and also soaked up by a couple of his blankets and a chew toy. This really upset me and i wanted to cry. I wished he was still here for me to take care of him. I was mad that my sympathy cards were ruined! But as i sit here and type this, i cant help but wonder if that was maybe Goliath's special way of saying hello to me, and letting me know he is doing well. He of course had no other way of letting me know it was him unless he gave me something to clean up! So now i am confident and happy that he gave me another job to do =)
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
The Saddest Day
Yesterday, I was just too sad and too exhausted to blog. The realization that it had been one week since Goliath's passing was very hard on me. It was one of those days when I was too sad to even cry. All I could possibly do was gasp for air.
My precious, beautiful, beloved baby passed "quietly in his sleep" around 6am on Monday, January 17, 2011. And so it was, just as it was in the Holy Bible, David defeated Goliath. And in my story- aspiration pneumonia acted as the mighty David, who in the end triumphed over my little Goliath. He was a fighter up until the very end, but David-or pneumonia- was just too much. Now my Goliath sits with God. My little 6 year old friend tells me that "In heaven, there are golden roads and Goliath is walking on them with God. But dont worry, he is safe because there are no cars in heaven." I pray every day that he is right, and one day I can walk on the golden roads of heaven, with little Goliath by my side =)
My precious, beautiful, beloved baby passed "quietly in his sleep" around 6am on Monday, January 17, 2011. And so it was, just as it was in the Holy Bible, David defeated Goliath. And in my story- aspiration pneumonia acted as the mighty David, who in the end triumphed over my little Goliath. He was a fighter up until the very end, but David-or pneumonia- was just too much. Now my Goliath sits with God. My little 6 year old friend tells me that "In heaven, there are golden roads and Goliath is walking on them with God. But dont worry, he is safe because there are no cars in heaven." I pray every day that he is right, and one day I can walk on the golden roads of heaven, with little Goliath by my side =)
Sunday, January 23, 2011
One Week
It's been one week today that we first noticed Goliath showing signs of being sick. Before I was called at work and had to rush home, I was looking forward to the following day, Monday January 17th. The vet had decided he was finally healthy enough to get his second set of shots. I made the appointment for Goliath, and my cat Salem to go in and get check ups and necessary shots for Monday at 1:30pm.
When I was called over the walkie talkie at work to come to the front of the store to receive a phone call, it felt like the floor was being ripped out from underneath me. No one calls me at work except for my boyfriend Patrick. Patrick was babysitting Goliath that day. In a daze I walked to the front to answer the phone, knowing in my gut something was terribly wrong. When I answered the phone my heart sank. Patrick told me Goliath started "freaking out" as soon as he started eating. On cue, Goliath started SCREAMING in the background. I panicked, and tried not to start frantically crying in front of all the customers. Luckily, my manager is a dog lover, and let me go home a little over 1 hour into my shift.
I sat with Goliath for 4 hours. During those 4 hours he laid almost completely still. Every time I tried to pick him up, or move him at all he would start yelping. I felt so helpless looking at his little face, so sad and scared. I just sat next to him and told him I loved him, and he was a good boy, and everything positive I could possibly think of. He gradually moved himself onto my lap to be as close to me as he could. It was a struggle for him to get there, which broke my heart into a million pieces. He first dragged his head into my lap, then his front paws, then he used the last of his energy to pull himself up onto my lap. I sat with him from 2:30pm until 6:30pm until I couldn't bare it anymore. I scooped him up in a blanket, and sobbed uncontrollably when he started yelping. I brought him to Capital Area Veterinary Emergency and we arrived at 7pm.
Sitting in the exam room I felt as if someone had knocked the wind out of me. It felt so sudden, so unexpected. Just that morning I was thinking about the great feat we had overcome. I was thinking it was so exciting that he was finally ready for his next set of shots!
X-Rays showed severe aspiration pneumonia in his little tiny left lung. The vet left me with the heart-wrenching choice to put him at peace, or fight to keep him alive through the night. I battled with myself over this decision, and after many tears and phone calls to my parents, grandparents, and sister, I decided Goliath was the bravest warrior that ever lived. He was my little hero in so many ways. Therefore, I needed to give him one more chance, one last fight, to see if he could win one more battle. Whether that was the most selfish choice I ever made, or not; I guess I will never know.
When I was called over the walkie talkie at work to come to the front of the store to receive a phone call, it felt like the floor was being ripped out from underneath me. No one calls me at work except for my boyfriend Patrick. Patrick was babysitting Goliath that day. In a daze I walked to the front to answer the phone, knowing in my gut something was terribly wrong. When I answered the phone my heart sank. Patrick told me Goliath started "freaking out" as soon as he started eating. On cue, Goliath started SCREAMING in the background. I panicked, and tried not to start frantically crying in front of all the customers. Luckily, my manager is a dog lover, and let me go home a little over 1 hour into my shift.
I sat with Goliath for 4 hours. During those 4 hours he laid almost completely still. Every time I tried to pick him up, or move him at all he would start yelping. I felt so helpless looking at his little face, so sad and scared. I just sat next to him and told him I loved him, and he was a good boy, and everything positive I could possibly think of. He gradually moved himself onto my lap to be as close to me as he could. It was a struggle for him to get there, which broke my heart into a million pieces. He first dragged his head into my lap, then his front paws, then he used the last of his energy to pull himself up onto my lap. I sat with him from 2:30pm until 6:30pm until I couldn't bare it anymore. I scooped him up in a blanket, and sobbed uncontrollably when he started yelping. I brought him to Capital Area Veterinary Emergency and we arrived at 7pm.
Sitting in the exam room I felt as if someone had knocked the wind out of me. It felt so sudden, so unexpected. Just that morning I was thinking about the great feat we had overcome. I was thinking it was so exciting that he was finally ready for his next set of shots!
X-Rays showed severe aspiration pneumonia in his little tiny left lung. The vet left me with the heart-wrenching choice to put him at peace, or fight to keep him alive through the night. I battled with myself over this decision, and after many tears and phone calls to my parents, grandparents, and sister, I decided Goliath was the bravest warrior that ever lived. He was my little hero in so many ways. Therefore, I needed to give him one more chance, one last fight, to see if he could win one more battle. Whether that was the most selfish choice I ever made, or not; I guess I will never know.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Friday, January 21, 2011
My Best Friend
For some reason I have never been one to make plans with friends every day after school, and hang out with friends between every activity. I started becoming really lonely and sad and needed a little companion. I had been kicking around the idea of a puppy for a long time before finally making the decision to go ahead and go for it! And then I met Goliath <3
After I brought him home, I never dreaded going home after school and being bored. He always kept me on my toes to say the least! I never had a dull moment with him =) Goliath had a way of brightening my day, no matter how awful it was. Whether it was him following me around the house, or snuggling up on the couch with me and smothering me in kisses, he always made me so happy. He also entertained me endlessly by trying to play with the cat, Salem. He never quite knew what to think about her. It would make me laugh so hard watching him try to interact with her.
Even taking the time to make his food every morning, and feed him made me happy. Giving him his medicine and taking care of him was something I looked forward to every day. It didn't matter if I was the one who was sick, I was still happy to get up and tend to his needs. It sounds cheesy, but even cleaning up after him felt so fulfilling. I never got sick of it, or annoyed of it. It made me happy to feel like he needed me as much as I needed him. He was my best friend and I loved him more than I thought could ever be possible.
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After I brought him home, I never dreaded going home after school and being bored. He always kept me on my toes to say the least! I never had a dull moment with him =) Goliath had a way of brightening my day, no matter how awful it was. Whether it was him following me around the house, or snuggling up on the couch with me and smothering me in kisses, he always made me so happy. He also entertained me endlessly by trying to play with the cat, Salem. He never quite knew what to think about her. It would make me laugh so hard watching him try to interact with her.
Even taking the time to make his food every morning, and feed him made me happy. Giving him his medicine and taking care of him was something I looked forward to every day. It didn't matter if I was the one who was sick, I was still happy to get up and tend to his needs. It sounds cheesy, but even cleaning up after him felt so fulfilling. I never got sick of it, or annoyed of it. It made me happy to feel like he needed me as much as I needed him. He was my best friend and I loved him more than I thought could ever be possible.
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Thursday, January 20, 2011
Stoic
Finally it seemed like we were on the right track. Goliath was gaining weight and his hair loss issues were under control. He was a playful pup and LOVED to snuggle! He had no problem crawling under the covers with me and "sleeping like a person" as my boyfriend would say. He wasn't much into toys; my hands, and face were much more fun to lunge at and nip!
As soon as my alarm would go off in the morning, Goliath knew it was time to wake me up. He would start by tramping all over my face. Sometimes I wouldn't wake up fast enough for him, and I would just peek my eyes open at him and see him in a stiff stance, preparing to leap. One time, I didn't close my eye fast enough and he nipped me right in the eye! It didn't hurt luckily, and there were a few instances where he bit me right on the nose. I knew he didn't know any better, and he was only playing so I couldn't scold him. I just discovered an alternative: a laser pointer!
That laser was awesome! He never got tired of chasing it. I would get really crafty and put the laser under the covers and he would search under the blankets for it. When he couldn't find it, he would poke his head out from the covers and look at me like "now what?" and then he would quickly notice it on the wall. This was the perfect way to play with him, because it kept him entertained. With toys, he quickly got bored and only wanted my hands to bite! Today, I thoroughly checked my hands to see if I could find one small trace of his playfulness, and sadly saw nothing but dry skin =(
As the vet put it, dogs are very stoic. Its hard to tell how long he wasn't feeling well because all he cared about was impressing his mommy, apparently no matter how crumby he was feeling. Goliath was the bravest and most playful fighter that ever lived.
As soon as my alarm would go off in the morning, Goliath knew it was time to wake me up. He would start by tramping all over my face. Sometimes I wouldn't wake up fast enough for him, and I would just peek my eyes open at him and see him in a stiff stance, preparing to leap. One time, I didn't close my eye fast enough and he nipped me right in the eye! It didn't hurt luckily, and there were a few instances where he bit me right on the nose. I knew he didn't know any better, and he was only playing so I couldn't scold him. I just discovered an alternative: a laser pointer!
That laser was awesome! He never got tired of chasing it. I would get really crafty and put the laser under the covers and he would search under the blankets for it. When he couldn't find it, he would poke his head out from the covers and look at me like "now what?" and then he would quickly notice it on the wall. This was the perfect way to play with him, because it kept him entertained. With toys, he quickly got bored and only wanted my hands to bite! Today, I thoroughly checked my hands to see if I could find one small trace of his playfulness, and sadly saw nothing but dry skin =(
As the vet put it, dogs are very stoic. Its hard to tell how long he wasn't feeling well because all he cared about was impressing his mommy, apparently no matter how crumby he was feeling. Goliath was the bravest and most playful fighter that ever lived.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Sleeping Cutie
As the days went on, Goliath seemed like he couldnt possibly be any cuter! His favorite place to sleep was on top of a pile of my clothes! He would choose a warm sweater that I wore that day which had been tossed on the floor, to sleep on rather than a cozy blanket. I think it comforted him to sleep with something that smelled like me.
Faithfully, every morning (unless my dad insisted on holding him) Goliath would come with me into the bathroom and sleep on my pjs while I took a shower. Every so often I would peek out from behind the shower curtain to check on him. When he would see my face, and hear my voice coming from behind curtain, he would trot over to the tub and try to climb in with me! Some days, when he was tired, he would just look up at me as if to say "hey mom!" then go back to sleep on my pile of pjs.
After I caught on to this, I started putting my laundry in a corner of my room rather than in my hamper. I sometimes even threw a pair of jeans I had worn the day before in his crate! He HATED his crate and would never go in it, unless there was a clothing article of mine for him to snuggle up with and keep him company. Of course, I never had the heart to force him in his crate. It broke my heart to hear his little bark and see his big sad eyes looking up at me. It was plain to see what he was thinking: "Why are you doing this to me!?" So I would take him out after less than a minute. A friend came over once and said to me "Don't you ever put that dog down!?" I tried to lie, and say "no, I really only hold him this much when he's sick..." but then, who was I kidding? Of course I never put him down!
Faithfully, every morning (unless my dad insisted on holding him) Goliath would come with me into the bathroom and sleep on my pjs while I took a shower. Every so often I would peek out from behind the shower curtain to check on him. When he would see my face, and hear my voice coming from behind curtain, he would trot over to the tub and try to climb in with me! Some days, when he was tired, he would just look up at me as if to say "hey mom!" then go back to sleep on my pile of pjs.
After I caught on to this, I started putting my laundry in a corner of my room rather than in my hamper. I sometimes even threw a pair of jeans I had worn the day before in his crate! He HATED his crate and would never go in it, unless there was a clothing article of mine for him to snuggle up with and keep him company. Of course, I never had the heart to force him in his crate. It broke my heart to hear his little bark and see his big sad eyes looking up at me. It was plain to see what he was thinking: "Why are you doing this to me!?" So I would take him out after less than a minute. A friend came over once and said to me "Don't you ever put that dog down!?" I tried to lie, and say "no, I really only hold him this much when he's sick..." but then, who was I kidding? Of course I never put him down!
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