Tuesday, January 25, 2011

My Hungry Dog

Frannie in Santa Cruz, May 2010

Last Thursday, we lost our sweet Frances. She would have been 15 today.

I'm not sure I can convey exactly how heartbroken the husband and I are. We are devastated, numb, anchorless. 

I have been trying very hard to think of how wonderful her life was, from the moment I picked her out of a litter of wiggly chocolate lab puppies in March 1996. She was eight weeks old.  I was 22 and had just lost my dad. I was looking for something good to focus on.

In a rare moment of life giving you exactly what you need at the right time, I found Frannie. She was happy, curious, sweet, and instantly loving, all the things a puppy should be. She was also highly destructive, chewing shoes and insoles, table corners, remote controls, and computer discs. She ate everything in sight and was unstoppable at the beach, at the park, anywhere she could fetch, run, chase, or swim. She was the friendliest dog on the planet, introducing me to countless people throughout our life together. She was also fiercely loyal and protective. She made me feel safe.

I loved these things that were part of her from the very beginning. But as she got older, I discovered all of the other lovely qualities she had that were even better. She was extremely sensitive, and when I was sad, she would come sit next to me and just stay there quietly. She was generous, welcoming other dogs into the house by dragging out her toys for them to play with, letting them lie on her bed and drink out of her water bowl.

Perhaps above all, she was brave. When she was diagnosed with cancer the first time, she went through surgery and chemo with her tail wagging. The staff at the vet's office were amazed by her resilient spirit and cheerful nature. When she had vestibular disease, extreme vertigo which can last for days, she stayed courageously in the hospital for several nights, and afterward put up with wearing a little harness so we could help her navigate slippery spots in the house. Toward the end, we carried her up and down the stairs, which she also put up with, grudgingly.

When the cancer returned in July 2009, when she was 13, we knew we couldn't put her through any more and we decided to all live exuberantly together for as long as she had left. We thought maybe a few months. A year and a half later, she was still going strong.

In fact, Frannie propelled through life full-force until the very end. She enjoyed every single day, going on walks, visiting friends, eating roast chicken and hamburgers. Over the last few months, I started to feel like a short-order cook, frying up a little burger in our cast iron pan every night and then breaking it over her kibble. She would stand very close to me, waiting impatiently, and then wolf down her dinner the way only a labrador can.

And, in spite of how absolutely broken I feel now, I know that she had a wonderful life, and I am proud that we played a part in it. Not because of the surgeries or medicine or all the chickens we roasted for her, but because of the attention we paid to her. Every day of her life, and in particular in the last four and a half years, we showed her we loved her, by petting her soft head, talking to her, taking her places, helping her when she needed it, and letting her do things on her own when she needed that too. If there is one thing I am proud of, it is that I did not squander one single day I had with her. And ultimately, all you have with those you love is time. You cannot save or stockpile days to cash in later; you begin with the clock running, and no matter how valid your reasons or good your intentions, you are losing every second you're not with them.

So I guess I feel grateful, not just to have been with her for so many years--nearly half my life--but that somehow my little pea brain grasped early on that every day was special. 

I don't believe in heaven, but I do like to believe that Frannie's essence is still somewhere in the cosmos, leaving a trail of happiness wherever she goes. She certainly left an indelible mark on this world and on me.

Thank you to my mom, my sister, our dear friends Liz and Neal, Stephanie and Scott, Kami, Amy, Claire, all of the guys at the office--Martin, Randy, Michael, and Earl the hound dog, and everyone at Mission Pet Hospital, not only for making these last few days bearable with your kind words and gestures, but for making Frannie's life so happy. Mostly, thank you to Alby, who just may have loved Frannie as much as I did, and who got me through the worst day of my life. I love you all.

26 comments:

  1. My heart goes out to you and your family. We lost our beautiful Golden Retriever, Spike, almost two years ago, Feb 16, one month short of her 13th birthday. She had a cancer removed from her paw but lived another year. I never stop thinking about her. I miss her so much. Your Frances was such a gorgeous doggie! Look at that sweet face! My sympathy, Mary Ellen

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  2. You totally made me cry. I'm so sorry to hear about your loss.

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  3. What a moving post, Samantha. Your love for Franny shines out from start to finish. If there is a doggy heaven, she is there.

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  4. Frannie touched all of our hearts and lives. I like to think that she is now keeping Dad company up there in the cosmos. Both are smiling happily. MOM

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  5. Dearest HD, I never got to pet, play or share a burger with Frances, but I feel like we were friends. Thank you for sharing so much about her character, personality, and your life with her. You two walked a certain important journey together that bonded you forever. Our hearts and prayers are with you, c&A.

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  6. I'm so sorry to hear about Frannie. I can't imagine her having had a happier, longer or better life with anyone else besides you and Danny. My thoughts are with you. - Pete

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  7. Oh Samantha, I don't really know what to say that won't sound contrived. Frances has been so much a part of this blog I feel as if I knew her. So much so, I'm sniffling as I read this (not a good look). Hugs to you and the hubby. Goodbye Frances.

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  8. So unbelievably sorry for your loss. Like Shaz said, Frannie has been such a big part of this blog that I feel like I've lost someone I've known too. Her wonderful memory will live on through you, this site, and everyone who's been to HungryDog.

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  9. I can remember you writing your wish list to Santa each year: "#1) Pony #2) Dog #3) Hamster". Mom and Dad could never get past #3, but when you were 22, you fulfilled your own wish. I think Frannie was special, not least because she helped you become the person you always wanted to be and were meant to be. She was a treasured member of the family, and we'll all miss her.

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  10. Samantha, I'm so sorry to read about Frances' passing. But reading your words made me see her frolicking around San Francisco, even though I've never got the chance to meet her, and I could see how much happiness she brought to you and your husband, and the rest of your extended family. I can tell she brought so much to you, and I know her memory and adventures will live on here, on this blog, and in your heart.

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  11. heavens above, i'm the biggest wuss in the world--tears are cascading down my cheeks. i'm SO sorry for your loss. i know you've heard your fair share of trite sayings, but seriously, take it one day at a time. things'll improve eventually.

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  12. I wish I could say something clever to elicit a laugh to soften a sad story, but the fact is, losing a puppy (they're all puppies no matter their age) ... man, it's the worst. I've been there, and I'll tell you: I'm certainly no softie, but this brought tears to my eyes. I hate that you lost such a good dog, but am so happy for you that you got so many good years with her. She sounds like she was one of the best.

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  13. So sorry to hear about your pup, they really do become such a part of the family, its hard to imagine life without them (there are days my husband and I swear our dog is a little person). From many of your posts its clear how much you and Frances gave to each other, I think she was a very lucky dog to have so much love. My thoughts are with you and your husband. To Frances!

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  14. Knowing Frannie pretty much all her life, I can say she was the best pup ever. She created a lot of happiness in my life, and I'll remember the lessons I learned from her. A few that easily come to mind: 1) Greet your friends and loved ones with total gusto and affection. Do this everytime you see them, no exceptions. They will adore you even more for this behavior. 2) If there's good food around (and of course there is when you live in SF, with Samantha!), some of it should be yours. Be patient, stay close, act quickly when needed. 3) Keep smiling! Really, just walk around with a simple grin on your face. Happiness is truly contagious, charming... and keeps your coat soft.
    I'll miss you dearly Frannie. S & D, love you guys. Amy

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  15. So sad Frannie is no longer in this world. The love she gave everyone she met was amazing. I'll miss her hot smile and tail wags. This post is really wonderful (and I, too, am crying).

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  16. S+D, I'm so sorry to hear the news about Frannie. Your post was a wonderful tribute to her and brought me to tears. What really resonated with me was the part about having time with those you love. No matter how short or long it may be, all we can do is live in the moment and cherish every minute of our time together. Our losses are different, but my heart aches with yours. Sending love, strength and healing your way. RIP Frances. xo Jen (and Drew)

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  17. Oh, HD, I'm so sorry. I lost my Sebastian 11 years ago, but I still look for him every day when I come home. I know it doesn't help, but I'm glad that you had her for as long as you did.

    Thinking about you from over here. Hugs.

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  18. S+D - Richard and I are so sorry to hear about Frannie. I know how much the two of you loved her so. I remember how excited she would get when I would visit you in your place in Noe Valley. She was such a love. My heart goes out to you both. Much love. D.

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  19. Oh honey I'm so sorry. I'm sitting here with tears running down my cheeks reading your wonderful tribute to your beautiful friend. Anyone who has shared a home with an animal knows what you are feeling. She was lucky that you were the one who found her and took her home to complete your family. I know she had a blessed life with you.

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  20. I've been so busy with my sister's emergency that I haven't been reading my usual blogs. I am so sorry to hear about Frances. What a lovely post to pay tribute to your sweet pup. I'm going to go give my Ruby and extra scratch behind the ears. Thinking of you.

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  21. Sob! Very sad. Such a loving tale of your loving tail. I wish you both some peace and, eventually, happiness.

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  22. I raise my glass and toast to the life of Frances.

    I'm so sorry about your loss.

    Velva

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  23. Heartbreaking, and yet your love for her and her unyielding sweet doggie spirit is so inspiring. Dogs are an incredible lesson in how to love unselfishly and they truly depart the world better than when they came into it, and that is an encouraging thing, no? Our hearts and thoughts are with you.

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  24. I'm in tears, thinking about Frannie and my own loss of my pet of seventeen years not to long ago. Bug hugs to you.

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  25. What a beautiful post! I'm so sorry to hear about Frances. I agree with what others have said - she was such a part of this blog!

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  26. awww, how did I miss this? life is just too full... I am so sorry to read that the original hungry dog has passed but glad to have known her through your blog and like to imagine her bounding through fields of tennis balls with a big smile on her face.

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