I Hate Sad Posts, But....

...I have to get this out of my system.

In 1998, after several months of watching his health decline, I had to make the decision to put my little Yorkie Spike down.  I had adopted him when he was only 6 weeks old, and he had been my constant companion through good times and bad and made the big move to California with me.  I thought I'd never recover from that.

By May of that year, I had decided that there was a big hole in my heart and that I missed the companionship of a little warm, furry friend.  I started my search for a tiny guy to fill that hole.

I had contacted Yorkie breeders in the area; had visited the Humane Society; had scoured the newspaper ads and came up empty.  The internet as we know it was still in it's infancy, but became a powerful tool in my search.  In early June, I stumbled upon a breeder's website that looked interesting: TinyTreasure Yorkies (no, that's not a typo - there's no space in the name!).  I sent an e-mail inquiry and asked if they had any "pet" adoptable dogs (I certainly wasn't interested in showing or breeding); in the e-mail, I told my sad story about Spike.  Within a couple of hours, I got a reply from a woman named Cindy - she had a 2-year-old Yorkie named Aerostar who needed a home.

His story broke my heart.  Cindy said that a few months earlier, she went to a woman's house who had advertised champion bloodline Yorkies for sale.  Being a breeder and handler of championship dogs, she was always looking for new "stock" to breed.  When she got there, it was nothing short of a puppy mill and she found Aero, a 2-year old female and 10 puppies all living in cages in this woman's basement in absolute filth.  It was obvious to her that these dogs had been mistreated, so she rescued the dogs and turned the woman over to the authorities.

She nursed the dogs back to health and adopted out the pups and the little female dog.  She held on to Aero because she thought he had the physical characteristics needed for a show dog.  She worked on getting his coat to grow back in (he had lost a lot of hair) and tried working on his temperament around people, but his puppy trauma ran too deep and he wasn't happy being one of the crowd of dogs in her house.

Naturally, she sent me a picture of him with his story and it was love at first sight.  I had to have this little dog in my life.

For a couple of weeks I spoke with Cindy and we arranged a price, getting him to me (little did I know when the transaction started that he was in CANADA!), giving her references to check and preparing myself and my apartment for a new occupant.  I sent a toy and one of my t-shirts to her to put in his kennel when he traveled because I wanted him to know my scent when I picked him up at the airport.

I took a Friday off at the end of June and my friend Joyce came with me to the airport that day.  I was like a nervous mother waiting to meet her child for the first time.  The flight was delayed, but after about an hour and a half, his little kennel appeared at the US Airways cargo station.  I started crying when I saw that little face looking out at me from inside the kennel.

I couldn't just take him out of the kennel and hug him right then and there - I had to identify him, show my i.d. and then take the paperwork over to Customs so he could clear Customs and come home with me (that cracked me up).  Finally, after about a half hour of paperwork, I took the nervous little dog out of the kennel, kissed his little face and headed home.

At first he was very shy, spending most of his time in his kennel, where he felt safe.  Slowly but surely, he warmed up to me and, as they say the rest is history.

Over the last 12 years, he went from that shy, nervous dog who was afraid of his own shadow to a tiny dog with a big personlity who made everyone he met fall in love with him.  He's been my constant companion since that day I picked him up at the airport and has enriched my life so much.  He was quite the character over the years who loved to go for rides, loved to have his belly rubbed and demanded that I do wha he wanted on his schdule.

On January 31, I took him in to the vet's office for a checkup.  At 13-1/2 years old, I could tell that his age was catching up with him.  He was moving a lot slower, sleeping a lot more, eating a little less and I could see the cataracts growing in his eyes.  But he was still the lovable little dog who had moments of spryness.  That was the day I received the bad news:  he had lost over a 1/2 pound (which on a 3-pound dog is a lot!) and he was in the beginning stages of kidney failure.  I was devastated because it cemented what I knew in my heart:  the end was near.

Dr. Trief, the wonderful vet we saw, said that to start I should change his diet to a low-protein food, which should slow the progression of the kidney failure.  She also said just to make him as comfortable as I could and bring him back in 3 weeks for more blood work and a weight check.

Things seemed ok; I thougt he was liking the new fancy food, but I noticed that he was very clingy when I'd get home at night and he was really slowing down.

On Feburary 17, I got home from work early (thank goodness!) and noticed that he was pretty lethargic and just laying on his blanket, not moving.  He didn't greet me at the end of the couch when I got home, so I knew something was wrong.  I tried to feed him some small pieces of oatmeal cookie that I had bought for him at the fancy dog store that day, but he just spit them out at me.  I picked him up, thinking that he just needed some t.l.c., but when I looked in his eyes, I knew.  I knew this was the end.

I called the vet's office and they said to bring him in right away.  Dr. Gallelo, the vet on duty, came in to the exam room to tell me the news I was dreading:  he had lost another 1/2 pound since our last visit, his temperature was around 92 (instead of up at 98-99) and his kidneys were shutting down. It was time to make a decision: take heroic measures to save him or end his suffering.  That was the second time in my life I had to make that decision and it wasn't any easier this time around.  I couldn't watch him suffer.

So, just a week ago tonight, I said goodbye to my little furry companion Aero as he closed his eyes and went on to the Rainbow Bridge.  I've cried and cried and cried.  And cried some more. 

My house feels empty and my heart just aches that he's gone.  Each day has gotten a little better, but it's hard to not have him here after he's been my companion and responsibility for nearl 12 years.  I mostly miss his sweet, furry face and happy wagging tail greeting me each day when I'd come home from work.

Will there be another furry companion in my life?  You betcha.  But for now, I'm just waiting for my heart to catch up to my head and then the search will begin.

So, it is with a heavy heart that I say goodbye to that little dog who grew into such a big part of my life, my sweet litte Aerostar.  I'll miss you and you'll always have a special place in my heart.  Thank you for bringing love into my life for the last 12 years.

Until Next Time,

Kel