death, thou shalt die

my parents' dog died yesterday. she had been sick for over a week, and my parents had been doing what they could to help her. they might have just given up paying enormous fees, or maybe whatever they did next just didn't work. i'm not sure what happened. you see, my mom sent me an email today, and instead of telling me that elsie had passed away, she sent me a link to healthy soups. i found out from liz. via text.

dogs aren't people, that's for sure. but elsie was a great dog, the smartest i had ever encountered. she looked you in the eyes, and we loved her.

a few years ago, liz and i were leaving walmart when we saw a man selling puppies. we had the genius idea to get one for our parents. we called them, sent them a picture of her, and then freaked out with excitement when they agreed to get her. seriously? awesome.

we kept the puppy a week or so before liz took her home to PA. i watched her at my apartment one day when she started to cough. the cough turned to a wheeze, and i watched her stomach contract and expand as she was trying to push and pull the air. i panicked. i didn't have a car, and my roommates weren't home. i called my mom. "elsie can't breathe!" she told me to do the heimlich maneuver. "she's a dog! how?" she didn't know... like she was a baby? i pulled elsie up so that she was standing on her hind legs, my arm across her upper chest beneath her arms. her back was against my chest. she was so small. i used my free hand, making a fist, to push on her lower chest. i knew i was being too gentle, so i made myself pound harder... and i winced each time, waiting to hear a rib crack. after several pounds, the wheezing stopped... and her airway was obstructed completely now. oh freak. she was gonna die on my kitchen floor in my arms. i ran to my closet to grab my shoes, and in waddled the puppy... who then proceeded to throw up in her mouth (and not on my floor, thank goodness) and breathe freely again.

i watched one of our cats die. she had liver failure. her health declined so quickly one day that we knew it wouldn't be long... hours maybe. we wrapped her in a towel and laid her down by a heating vent. i sat with her and stroked her stiff body as she drifted in and out of consciousness. eventually, she lost consciousness completely. her body struggled to stay alive. moments would pass and then her body would shock itself and suck in a breath. moments would pass... longer this time, and i would think she was finally gone. but her body would shock itself again, and suck in air again. this happened maybe 5 or 6 times until i was left waiting for another breath that never came. it was amazing to watch.

i once killed a spider in my bathroom sink by spraying it with hairspray. i didn't want to, but i knew i wouldn't be able to sleep until i knew it was gone. i watched it try to run up the slippery porcelain only to fall back into the pool of poison. it's legs started to curl in, and i just couldn't take it. i turned on the faucet and watched it swirl away. my eyes were a bit wet as i walked back to bed.

i think in that email my mom swirled away the thought of elsie's death with healthy soup.

everything dies, and i'm ok with that. i'm not ok that i made the spider suffer. i was relieved when the cat zonked out as it's body held on so that she didn't have to experience much more pain. and i hope that elsie just slipped away quietly.

when my grandpa was sick, i went to the hospital with my grandma one night after many nights of her inviting me to go and my responding with "next time." he was unconscious. she had a card for him from a friend, and she asked me to read it aloud to him. i don't recall what it said. the nurse came in and casually encouraged me to hold his hand and tell him i was there. i assumed she knew better than me what was normal in this situation, so i did. he was pumped full of fluids; his hand was heavy and his skin firm. i held his hand a few minutes before i lied, "i need to use the restroom." i sat in the lobby with a tv that didn't seem to be making any sound. grandpa passed away several hours later. i'm glad i didn't wait one more "next time."

death is death is death. it hurts every time.

RIP, elsinor paddywack martin. may you play knick knack up in heaven.