May 10. 2008
This week my dog died. She died a sudden death and no one expected it. Yesterday we buried her. Her name was Clover. Her death was my first up and personal contact with death.
Clover was a big dog, a Great Dane. Her majestic size was admirable, but at the same time often cost me and my family a lot of frustration. She didn’t know her own strength and often crashed into us as she ran around. Clover was not allowed in the house, and because we couldn’t control her, she was kept in her cage for most of the time. I didn’t really want it that way, believe me, but I had to. She always barked happily when we did go down to her cage, and whimpered and cried as we walked away. Her biggest flaw was her thunder-phobia. This was something entirely out of our and her control. Whenever it rained, she would just panic. The panic was just pure fear and she lost all sight of logic, it broke my heart whenever it rained because she would try to find a safe spot to hide in, clawing and biting herself out of her cage, but there wasn’t one. This panic lead to the holes in the fence and broken windows, the worst case occurred about a month ago, she had chewed, clawed, and rusted her way through the metal bars of her cage, and she tried to get out. But she got caught in the middle of the fence as a the end of metal pierced through her skin near her hip and kept her half in, half out of the cage. She bled a lot, and we called the vet. She got stitches and an IV, and we weren’t even sure she’d get up in the morning. However by sun up she had pulled herself completely off the IV and was walking around like nothing had happened, barely limping. The stitches had to be redone several times over the next couple of weeks, but other than that she was healing well.
The thing I regret the most about her death was that I had just had a four day weekend. A weekend that I spent lying around in bed or on the couch in front of the TV. For some reason I felt that Clover was being a little barky that weekend, but I still didn’t take the time to visit her. And she died.
I never thought that I would be so sad at her death. I mean so many times I wished she were dead because I was so fed up and frustrated. When my mom called and told me she died, I didn’t believe her. I thought it must be some kind of joke. But when it sunk it, I started to cry. I’m not an especially big fan of crying, so I surprised myself. I cried for real, the redness of my eyes after I stopped tearing proved it. I’ve readily teared up for the last three days now. And today when I was reminiscing about clover, telling stories to my little sister, I choked. I was so fed up with her so much of the time, and she was a dog that didn’t really listen to me (she only listened to my father) but I was, I am, so sad. I’ve never been this sad before maybe except when I had to move from the city I spent my early childhood in. that was so long ago though, and nobody died. I could still contact whoever I had left behind.
I used to feel like I just wanted to move out of my house and get away from my parents. Sometimes I just wish they would just disappear, but now I appreciate them a little bit more. Life doesn’t last forever, and I’ve got to cherish what I’ve got. When u eventually die, there is nothing you can do that can make up for all the things you didn’t do. So I am going to go and “Do. Today.”.
I don’t have any good pictures of Clover, she was a terrible at taking pictures. And I didn’t take a hair of her fur to keep with me. She is gone, but I know she will live on in my heart.
Mandy
