The Love of a Dog

I lay Lexy on the cold metal examination table. The vetanarian gives Lexy, my beautiful husky, a pat on the head. “There is nothing else we can do for her, the cancer has progressed to her kidneys” she whispers with sympathy. I nod my head, with tears streaming down my checks, to land on Lexy’s nose. Lexy gives me a tentative lick on my hand, trying to comfort me even though it is her I am trying to be brave for. I have to be brave today, because today is the day I let Lexy go over to the other side of the rainbow. The vet touches my shoulder and says, “I will let you have time to say your goodbyes and come back in with the medicine. She won't feel a thing,” she promises me, “it will be just like she is going to sleep.” The door shuts on my sob. “Lexy,” I whisper, “I do not want to say goodbye.” Lexy glances into my eyes and I am positive she does not want to say goodbye either. So, I do not say goodbye. I remember. I remember all the adventures me and Lexy went on, and start telling Lexy of all the joy she brought me in her short life.

I got a husky from the Free Spirit Siberian Rescue, and as this crazy fluffy dog licked my face I knew I was in love for the first time in my life. We had an instant bond. As soon as I brought her home, I put the leash around her collar with the dog tag that claimed that she was all mine. I went out the front door in high spirits, and a little bit of pride as I knew that everyone who saw us on our walk was going to be jealous. Oh man was I wrong. As soon as the door opened Lexy took off, dragging me behind her. She somehow escaped her leash and saw the postman's car and headed right in that direction at super dog speed. I was mortified when she jumped up and tried to fit into his window. When that failed she just barked at him like a crazy dog. My new dog had no manners.

“Do you remember that Lexy?” I ask between my giggles.

Lexy was my dishwasher. If I left a plate in the sink, she would jump up, pick it up very carefully between her teeth, place it on the tile floor without spilling a drop, and then proceed to lick all the juices or left overs up. Lexy would also get into the trash at every opportunity. Lexy would get into anything that was left out. Again, she had no manners or sense of discipline. I loved her anyways, or I loved her for all the mischief she would get into. Despite all the training classes or dog books I would buy Lexy was a bit broken, but she loved unconditionally and was there for me to hug at every opportunity. I did not hold her brokenness against her because she held the title of “Good Dog” at the first lick of my face.

“It was punishment, wasn't Lexy? Because you just wanted to be outside exploring.” As I wrap my arms around Lexy’s neck for the hug that I was going to miss, I let her know that soon she can get to go on all the adventures. I knew that when Lexy goes to the other side of the rainbow she is going to find tall mountains, endless fields, and so many new friends. “You're going to have so much fun,” I tell her.

We lived in Colorado Springs, where the mountains are in the backyard, and the parks are a block away. I would pack a backpack with water, dog treats, trail mix and beef jerky, and drive out to the mountains almost every weekend. We would start as the sun was coming up and not come down until the sun was setting behind the mountain. Our favorite trail was St. Mary Falls on Gold Camp Road. We would take the trail by the creek, Lexy would jump into the water with her tongue hanging out and her tail wagging and chase the rushing river. Barking at rocks and splashing with the fish, Lexy was living her best life. We would continue the climb, stopping at every amazing tree that Lexy found along the path, or shiny rock that I had to put in my backpack or we could not proceed. When I would get tired, Lexy would give me a bark of encouragement and we would continue on until we got to the top of the mountain. When we finally reached the top we would set and bask in the beauty of nature. The clouds close enough to touch, the sound of nothing but silence, and shared beef jerky. This was what happiness looked like- a mountain, a girl and her dog, and beef jerky...equals bliss.

I hear the door open, and know that it is time. I hug Lexy’s neck and tell her what a good dog she has been. Looking into her eyes, I let her know that she was loved, and thanked her for all she has given me- the joy, laughter, and endless kisses. “I am going to miss you Lexy and all our adventours,” I whisper, she closes her eyes and starts her new journey on the other side of the rainbow.

It is amazing the joy a dog can teach us. Lexy taught me to make each day a gift, and enjoy the hell out of the small things- like shiny rocks and really tall trees. My motto in life is to find happiness in everything, and I learned it from a fluffy four legged friend.

Miss ya Lexy.