Saying Goodbye to a Furry Friend

Early this morning I had to say a final goodbye to one of my furry, four-legged babies – a beautiful miniature dachshund named Izzy. (Just her name makes me smile!) Since the day we picked her up, that dog has been a pain in my ass. She had to be constantly cuddled, always in the middle of everything, and I know for a fact that my neighbors wondered why I yelled at a deaf dog, when in fact she just had selective hearing like the rest of my family. She often climbed on the dining room table, dug through the trash and tore up baby bottles and toys – she also stole everyone’s heart.

Most people think of miniature dachshunds as lazy house dogs that bark too much. However, they were originally bred to hunt badgers, rabbits and other burrowing animals. Living in the country, she became the little dog that could. Our pointer and Izzy would tag team rabbits like no one had ever seen... to the point that the rabbits were almost extinct around our house. I can’t count the number of times she came home, covered from head to tail in dried mud, thousands of scratches from getting into scrapes with animals much larger than her miniature 13 lb frame. Her spirit was always bigger than her body, even up until the very end.

I came home from work Wednesday evening to find the lower half of her body paralyzed. We were initially sent to a special emergency vet clinic about an hour from home. Eventually we ended up in Manhattan, KS at the KSU Veterinary Medical Teaching Hospital, where after several hours and multiple examinations, we had no choice but to put an end to her misery.

The hardest part for me is that my 13 month old daughter and this dog have been practically inseparable. Emma would scream at her, chase her, pull her ears, lay on top of her and Izzy would eat it up and beg for more. One of my last photos is of the two of them on the living room floor, cuddled on a big pillow, watching cartoons together. For my own selfish reasons, I’m thankful Emma is only 13 months old. I can’t fathom trying to explain the situation to her. I’m having a hard enough time keeping my composure as I type this.

We arrived home around 4:00 this morning, slightly numb from how quickly everything happened. Despite every effort and the best intentions, the journey of life takes paths that we aren’t always ready to travel. For those that know me more intimately, our family has had more than our share of those hard-to-travel paths in the last few months, but there is ultimately a reason why things happen when they do. On the drive home, we experienced one of the most beautiful falling stars… bright, explosive and awe-inspiring. A simple reminder that we’re never truly alone, and even in some of our darkest hours, beauty and love still exist.