In Memory of My Dog Baby Priscilla

On the day of December 6th, 2004, my do Missy had her last litter. We kept one puppy from it, the smallest of the lot, who made cute chortling noises and walked around in adventurous toy dog fascination, cheerful about everything she saw. I named her 'Priscilla.' From the start the little one, one of the smallest of pekingeses, was a lively little person, running downstairs with her mommy Missy each time I did laundry, playing with Missy constantly. Missy and her both lived in my mom's room, with Candy, and were a source of comfort to her in her declining years. For the first eight years of her life, she was my mom's dog. After my mom passed, for the last seven, she was mine, and, for me, she became nap buddy number one.

Priscilla was always adventurous until old age sapped her life energy as it does to us all. Ten years ago, she ran out the door and was missing for days. I put up missing dog posters all over town, searched several times for her. She was finally cornered and brought back home by the police (it took five of them), the people that found her didn't even know what type of a dog that she was, with her big eyes and flat snout. I was lucky to get her back then, else her story, or at least my time with her, would have ended much sooner than it already has. All my other dogs liked Priscilla, that was the one thing they all seemed to agree on, and Priscilla never fought with any of them.

Priscilla also had perfect health, too, until this year when she developed mammary tumors. Because of her advanced age, the vets did not recommend removing them and, when Cleo died in April, the vet warned me that Priscilla would only have about six months to live as well. Until two nights ago, she seemed fine, but then dogs never like to tell you when they are in pain.

I came back home last night to find her unable to stand, only able to move her paws, howling in pain. I gave her a pain pill and she drifted in and out of sleep, howling anew each time she awakened. She couldn't stand, couldn't walk and my suspicion is that some of the tumors had now grown into her spine. I brought her to the vet for euthanasia, something I have never done. Memories of Nikki's prolonged death years ago still played through my mind and I didn't want my baby to suffer like that. The vet gave her two drugs, one to kill brain function, one to kill the heart, and she died almost instantly, in my arms. Anyone who tells you this is easy to do isn't being truthful. You have this pet who is dependent on you, like a child, whom you swore you would always protect, and here you end up killing her because our science still cannot figure out a way to cure this hideous disease. But she is at peace now, Priscilla, and somewhere she, Missy and Candy are off playing together again at last knowing a peace that they could never find here. Priscilla, you were a terrific little person and I treasure all of the time I shared with you, be at peace, baby.