Gifts of kindness.

I have thought a lot since Zoe's death about the many gifts we were given by the emergency vet hospital.  I wrote in a previous post that being with Zoe, taking care of her basic needs, was the only thing that kept me calm, and that it was even meditative at times.

By allowing me to stay with her and play this role of amateur nurse, they gave me the gift of having more time with Zoe.  But more than that, this extra time had a special quality:  for those three days, when I was with her, I was completely focused on her.  I kept one hand on her at all times, as that was the best way to monitor her heart rate and her breathing.  I thought about her, how special she was, what she meant to me, and I imagined an army of tiny workers (for some reason, men dressed all in white, including construction hats) going into her body and repairing her like a house.  My mind didn't wander.  When they first got us set up to spend the night in an exam room, as I laid down beside her, I thought to myself that whatever the night brought, I was going to see her through this.  If she was going to die, I was going to carry her right up to heaven's gates.  In the meantime, we were just together, and that was all that mattered.

What we lost.

Since I wrote nothing about Zoe until her death, I figure I had better create something that tells the story of her short life.  The best way that I could think to do this was with the many photos and videos I have of her.  Here is a sequence of my favorites.

Beyond photos and videos, what can I say about Zoe?  I wrote the following in an email the woman I got Zoe from:

She was perfect.  Even though she was less than two years old, she had the temperament of a much more mature dog.  She was rambunctious and playful, but when it was time to settle down and relax, she had no trouble with that either, even if she was bored and would rather be doing something more active.  She had a special spirit that captured the hearts of so many people.  For example, Zoe loved going to the vet, largely because everyone there absolutely adored her and treated her like royalty.  The situation was the same at our favorite doggy daycare.  Zoe's top priority in life seemed to always be fun, not just her own fun but everyone's.  She was a true clown, and she was very good at getting just about any dog to play with her.  She put other dogs at ease.  She was fearless and loved playing rough with larger dogs, and she was not particularly dominant or submissive--she was happy to play whatever role would make the game more fun for everyone involved.  She also loved playing with people, of course, and she was even good at just entertaining herself without doing anything bad; for example, she was good at tossing her own toys around for herself.  The truth is that she was the epitome of joy, and she wiggled her way into the heart of everyone she spent any significant time with.  On a daily basis, I got comments from strangers about how sweet and beautiful she was.  They didn't know the half of it.