Goodbye Gracie Lu

Scott and Gracie Lu

Today I helped euthanize my daughter dog Gracie Lu.

She was.

She was beautiful and enthusiastic. She was fierce and loving. She was a lap dog and an indomitable hiker. She was almost four and a half years old.

She hunted mice and birds and snakes. Indeed she kept bigger game out of our backyard. Mule deer wonder through our neighborhood, but they knew not to scale our fence while she stood guard. And Bentley, our neighbor’s senior dog might outweigh her two to one, but I don’t think he ever won the through-fence verbal war between them.

Gracie came to live with us almost three years ago. She moved from Florida to Colorado following a young man to his new job. His work didn’t allow enough time for him to spend with Gracie so he put her up for adoption on the Dachshund Rescue website.

Our Bassett Hound Bess and our Dachshund Oscar were very senior and we needed new blood for the pack. I saw Gracie the first day she was on the website. I’m an early riser so I had to wait more than three hours to call the number. I wanted to make a good impression and everyone should be up and about by 8:30 even on a weekend. He graciously agreed to bring her to our home so we could see how she would fit.

He brought her in and put her on the floor. Bess and Oscar ran to see the strange dog. Neither growled or threatened, but she was terrified and leaped into my husband’s arms. Not the young man’s but Scott’s.

She was a full-size, smooth-coated, dapple Dachshund, about a year and a half old. And her name was Gracie Lu. Our human daughter’s name is Grace and my favorite restaurant is Lucille’s Creole Café. And she was in my husband’s arms. Of course she fit. She fit very well indeed.

Bess because of her seniority and innate good sense was the alpha dog. Oscar was Oscar. He didn’t care who was top dog, he was going to do his own thing anyway. (I think he may have been a cat in a previous life.) And Gracie Lu was too unsure of herself to aspire to high place. Her integration into the pack was virtually seamless.

A few months later we put Oscar down. He was fourteen years old.  Then it was just Bess and Gracie until we let Bess go. She was over fifteen. With her exuberance, Gracie inspired Bess to youthful entertainments until the end.

Gracie was down to just humans in her pack. She was not unhappy being the only dog. But we needed a new dog for her to train up. Last month a new dog came to live with us. You can read about her. Just click on  Maggie May.  

From that first leap into Scott’s arms Gracie Lu never hesitated to jump – onto our bed, off of our bed, down steps into the basement (for which she was chastised) and back up again. We have a ramp down from the back door to the patio originally installed for my father’s use, then used by Bess. Gracie leaped onto and off of it from whatever angle she might come to it.

My first Dachshund Sebastian had Intervertebral Disc Disease so we knew what might happen, but some Dachshunds do not develop that problem. Oscar didn't. And really there’s no way to prevent its development or, for that matter, Gracie’s jumping.

Sebastian had Laser Disc Ablation at Oklahoma State University’s Veterinary Teaching Hospital (my husband’s Alma Mater) Back then it was a new treatment. Sebastian did reasonably well with only minor episodes which could be treated with prednisone and cage rest. Until he did not and had to be put down.

Two weeks ago Gracie suddenly presented with pain. She didn’t try to jump onto the bed. But she still walked, indeed ran, normally. She continued to eat well, drink well, and be interested. We took her to the vet and she put Gracie on pred and cage rest. At first it seemed to be working. Then yesterday Gracie began to have problems walking. And sitting. She couldn’t squat properly to urinate.

Scott and I talked about it. Surgery was still a possibility, but her future would include more episodes of varying degrees of severity until at last nothing restorative could be done.

We decided that if she did not improve with the conservative treatment we would not put her through the surgery.

This morning she could not stand. She could still wag her tail a bit. And she did. She had a good breakfast.

My husband had eye surgery yesterday and couldn’t go with us, but he called Wheat Ridge Animal Hospital and explained what was going on. He’s a vet so he was able to talk to them doc to doc. He carried her out to the car in her crate and told her goodbye.

They were expecting us at the veterinary hospital and took us right in. They immediately took her to the back. While they put the catheter in place, I filled out the necessary papers. They were so sweet to me. But I assured them that I understood what we were doing, that I wanted to hold her while they euthanized her, and that I appreciated them and what they were doing for us.

And I told them that I was only sorry that this same service could not legally be provided to humans when it was time. I meant that and I mean that.

Having dogs and cats means saying goodbye. Our lifespans just do not match. And we love them just as much as we love our human family members. I am okay with this. I am more than okay. I celebrate the animals I’ve loved and lost. I celebrate the people I’ve loved and lost.

Losing loved ones after sharing however long we have together – if they know we loved them and we know they loved us – it is the purest form of sorrow – no darkness – only light. And tears.