After much discussion over the weekend, Maria and I decided we want to set the wheels in motion to get another dog. We want another Boston Terrier, and the sooner the better. I know some people need to grieve for longer periods of time, and others find the pain of loss so great they give up the idea of having a dog at all.
That is not our way, or our belief system. People who love dogs ought to have a dog, especially with so many in need of homes. We felt the loss of Gus deeply as was obvious, but speaking for myself, dogs are important to me, and I want to pick up the journey left off by Gus’s too short life.
This morning, I called Robin Gibbons, Gus’s breeder. She has suffered keenly through Gus’s illness and death, when she came over to say goodbye to him, I told her I would be proud to get another dog from her if she bred again, she said she was leaning against. But watching Robin and her son Brian with Gus, I thought she might change her mind.
This morning, she told me she would try to breed Hannah, Gus’s mother in April. If the breeding took, and Hannah had puppies, I said, we would like to bring one home. Robin seemed pleased about that, she tested all of her dogs and the puppies she bred thoroughly, there was no sign of megaesophagus or any other kind of trouble.
Maria and I very much like the idea of getting a dog from Robin, the cause of megaesophagus is unknown, but every vet I have spoken with says it is not passed along through breeding, the researchers believe it is either a virus or is brought during anesthesia during an operation. Gus was neutered.
Dogs are pregnant for about 63 days. The pregnancy is measured from the day that they ovulate (release their eggs) to the day that their puppies are born. Like people, dogs are pregnant for three trimesters, each about 21 days long.
If Hannah’s is bred successfully In April, she would give birth sometime in June. We could take a puppy home in August or September, if Robin agreed to sell us one. Early Fall is a good time to get a puppy. We could get some real space between Gus’s death and our new dog, and it would be warm long enough to housebreak a new dog and acclimate him or her to the farm.
I depend on breeders and vets for guidance on choosing a puppy, and Dr. Fariello and Robin and Maria would all weigh in on any decision.
Gus’s illness deepened our love and respect for Dr. Fariello, no dog owner could ask for more guidance, empathy and competence. Yesterday, we got a lovely letter from her expressing her sorrow over Gus’s death: “I want to thank you both,” she said, “for your clear and concise approach to both his disease and the decision to let him go…I appreciate your taking that responsibility. It was difficult, but never questionable.”
Many of you know one of the great truths about dog love. With every vet, we eventually come to a crossroads. A vet can be a savior, a vet can be a nightmare. A good vet listens and guides. A bad vet preaches and does not listen or hear. Suzanne was wonderful. She listened, she studied, she researched, she experimented. In the end, she comforted.
She respected our wish to take responsibility and supported it. That made all of the difference. We never had the agonizing experience of wondering what the vet thought.
I should be clear about one thing: I have no desire to get another Gus. We’ve done that, this new dog, if it comes, will be him or herself, not Gus. No two people are alike, no two dogs are alike. I live in the present, not the past. And I cannot predict or foretell the future.
I wish to love this new dog in a new way, and for themselves, not for another dog.
Robin is an exceptionally conscientious breeder, and we trust her completely.
And there is something about getting the next dog from her that Maria and I both like and want. Completing the circle, finding closure, a healing thing. We also love keeping this experience within our community. In a sense, I want to continue what Gus started but was unable to finish.
We both loved the Boston Terrier breed.
Gus got on famously with the border collies, he adored Fate and tortured her endlessly. He was a family dog, he loved dozing on the couch in my study, wrestling with me, observing the sheep, riding on a donkey, hanging out with Maria in her studio, playing in the yard with Fate.
Red was a benign and kindly father to Gus, he always let Gus gnaw on him up to a point. When he had enough, he just barked and Gus got the message.
In part, I wanted Gus because I wanted to learn more about the small dog experience, and I was always interested in the Boston Terrier breed. My suspicions were correct. Small dogs are nothing like big dogs. The only thing they have in common is that they are dogs.
Small dogs seem to have no idea that they were small, and imperiously dominate any household they are in. Small as he was, he was more than a match for me. They blend right into the family, and submit to no one. Everything thing in the house is theirs, every thing their business.
They are loyal, affectionate, smart and lovely dogs, and this is definitely a breed with a sense of humor (unlike the border collies, who are all about work, like me and Maria.) We discovered that Gus was good for all of us, we all needed to laugh more and lighten up, and that was Gus’s work. We need to nurture.
We laughed all the time at this ridiculous creature, who made the strangest sounds and was often quite flatulent. In caring for him, our feelings only deepened. I don’t think anyone loves anything more than something you love that is dying.
Everyone should be granted the right to grieve in his own way, and I have done mine and will probably do some more. But life is short, figuratively and literally for me. I am beginning to be old, and I wish to spend my remaining time in life, not loss, meaning, not grief. The more love the better.
There is no statute of limitations on grief, no one way to do it. We grieve as long as we need to grieve, we move on, which we must, when we are ready. I am ready to move on. I believe Maria is as well, she can speak for herself.
A cruel woman assaulted me online the other day because i would not agree to give Gus away to someone with more experience with megasophagus. As a result, she suggested, I killed him needlessly. She said she was furious with me, even as I was filled with sadness. Is there any form of life, I wonder, lower than a person who assaults a grieving fellow human at the height of his pain?
Why do I think of Dracula, feeding off the blood of another?
How different some of us are from one another. It would have violated every ethical and moral code I have to give a sick and suffering dog away to a total stranger just because he or she claimed to know more than I did about the dog’s disease.
It is hard for me to imagine a more cowardly or irresponsible thing to do, so that the dog might suffer much longer and in the hands of a narcissistic stranger who needs to feel good about themselves over my sick dogs body, no less. By what perverted logic is this considered humane?
On top of the discomfort he was already suffering, I would never add the unnecessary trauma of forced relocation to a dog so attached to his life at home when he was so sick and weak. I doubt I would ever sleep again. I respect life, and I respect death. None of us will live forever, no matter how many people might wish to rescue us.
Gus died peacefully and surrounded by the dogs and people and sheep and donkeys that he loved. His suffering is over.
So we are going to get another dog, hopefully the same breed, hopefully the same breeder. The moving finger writes….
You are invited to come along for the next chapter of this journey, you are welcome, good people and bad. Wish me luck.
