Our Shared Grief

We shall never forget them nor shall we lose track of our nation's loss.  9/11/01 remains an indelible marker of our shared grief for those who died.

Ginger Has The Last Word 9/9/12

We were destined to scoot off to the beach today in the Mini after my crack of dawn shift at my new job.  My schedule is all over the place and it seems, though I am not certain, that being a rookie means you will work any shift scheduled.  I have to say that when I stepped outside this morning at 4:30 AM before my coffee and shower, my breath was taken away.  Within that predawn sky was a roof full of crystal clear stars on a cold September morning.  Crystal.  Crisp.  Wow.  I said a prayer for myself and our wee household for another strange day of life.

It was very busy today at the store and I raced to keep up with my veteran co-workers and customers.  How do they see me?  Am I making the grade?  Truthfully, I am exhausted by the stress of a new situation with all new tasks and responsibilities.  It is easy to smile genuinely at others and I have a fair amount of fear and wonder.  I thought of our household and my family in Texas in those moments where I doubted myself and my path.

I came home tired and thinking of driving to the coast.  I made it home, changed into my shorts after human and dog hellos and waited for my sweetie to get ready to scoot.  I heard a strange commotion from our dogs and ran to the door outside to see Ginger begin a grand mal seizure.  I sped out the door to hold her head and keep her from scraping herself further as she writhed and gasped. 

Seizures are horrible to witness as you comfort and wait, riding the waves forward and back without being able to do anything more.  Three minutes and I was screaming for help as my partner ended her phone call.  Four minutes and Ginger was still writhing and frothing at the mouth.  The seizure built and took it up a notch. Five minutes.  Horrifying with both of us holding her and reassuring her.

Eventually Ginger's grand mal ceased but she got up and paced for a good 45 minutes more, agitated and terrified.  For us humans who are brave enough to love our dogs, we had to talk about this inevitability after trying three seizure meds over almost five months.  It has been so very difficult to deal with changes in Ginger's personality and her breakthrough seizures as each of us lost jobs, started new ones and dealt with the uncertainty of a critically ill pet.

After a few hours of talking to one another and calling my amazing sister for feedback, we decided to end Ginger's life and her struggle with seizures.  Neither one of us thought this day would turn towards this and yet, we knew we had to do the right thing by Ginger.  We three went to the ER and some exceptionally kind medical staff at PetCare allowed us to bid Ginger adieu as only we guardians can. 

We are each spent and so very sorrowful.  We have lit a candle and hold our grief very carefully for the dog who made our trio of Greyhounds complete.

I can say that dogs leave quickly but Ginger did so in her own way.  After Ginger's big Greyhound heart stopped and the wonderful Vet. left the room, Ginger exhaled several times and the last one was a signature Ginger cry.  Perhaps some might explain that breath from her lungs expelled across her vocal cords.  However, I would say that not only did Ginger have the last word, she thanked us as her big dog spirit was exiting for parts unknown.

Thank you Ginger, we miss you terribly.  Bon voyage.