[nagdu] Story: Fare Thee Well, Petpper

[Linda Gwizdak]

Hi All,
With the discussion of guide dog retirement and such, I went on my sister's website and read her very moving account of the death of her beloved pet, Pepper. I wanted to share it with you.  See below.

I didn't know Pepper well myself but I would see him when I visited my sister or when they drove to SD to visit us with the dogs.  He was around 14 years old.

Lyn and Landon

 

Fare Thee Well, Pepper

By Kate Dardine

The first time I saw Pepper he was lying in his kennel at the Humane Society, his white left front paw crossed politely over the left. When we came up to say hello, he wagged his tail but didn’t get up, instead looked at us with big brown eyes. Or I should say, looked at our daughter, Sara. She was 12 years old, and we had come to the pound to find a dog for her to train for 4-H competition. We had looked at quite a few prospects, but the electricity that jumped between dog and girl left us no doubt that this little 5 month old sable and white border collie mix  with the "dorsal" ear would be coming home with us.

As it turned out, Pepper was not suited for 4-H competition. Crowds made him nervous, and he did NOT like to be touched by people he didn’t know. But, he was a fast learner, and quickly learned to come, sit, stay, lay down and heel. And he was polite – never rushing past you to get through the door, waiting patiently for his supper. 

We don’t know what his life was like before joining our family – we can only assume that somewhere along the line he was mistreated, because he never lost his wariness for men. And we never knew his exact breeding – our best guess was German Shepherd, Border Collie and Heeler. But one thing we do know is he loved his “circle” of family with every fiber in his body. As gentle as he was to us, he did not hesitate to bark and snarl and, if the situation merited it, bite an intruder. Our house and property were safe when Pepper was on guard.

Very serious about his "job" of protecting the family, Pepper also had a very silly side. He would leap in the air, eyes shining, tail wagging each morning and evening as he accompanied me out to the barn. And he loved nothing more than a game of fetch - although in the last year or so, he would mostly let the younger dogs get the ball. He always seemed to look at them with exasperation if they didn't bring the ball directly back to me and drop it in my hand like he did. 

When Sara left home a few years ago, Pepper stayed with my husband and I, and he became my constant companion around the house. He especially liked to be with me while I painted in my studio - always managing to lay down right behind me, so that when I'd step back from my easel, I'd step on him.

As he got older, he lost some of his nervousness and let the grandkids pet him. But he never learned to tolerate thunder storms. We always laughed that you could predict that a storm was within 100 miles when Pepper headed for the bathroom to hide - and if the storm was really bad, he'd curl up in the bathtub!

This fall I noticed Pepper was slowing down - it was getting harder for him to make it up the stairs to the house. I would feel bad when I would take multiple trips up and down the stairs to my basement studio - because Pepper could not be convinced that he didn't have to follow me every where I went. 

This Christmas we had a full house: my older daughter Shannon, her husband and two children came from Oregon and my younger daughter, Sara, made the trip from Nebraska with her three children. Pepper seemed happy to be in the midst of the happy chaos of five adults, five children (ages 9 months to 9 years) and four dogs. But right after Christmas he stopped eating (not even scrambled eggs and rice interested him) and was vomiting,  and I knew something was very wrong.

A trip to the vet Monday night confirmed my fears - his liver was so enlarged that it was causing his stomach to be squished down. We had to make a decision - but I wanted to bring him home for goodbyes. The vet gave him some fluids and anti-nausea medicine and we went home. That night we all had a chance to pet Pepper and say our goodbyes. We cried and hugged, the kids drew pictures and wrote notes - together we grieved and celebrated Pepper's life. For my grandchildren - four of whom have experienced profound loss in their lives, this was an opportunity to express grief in a circle of support - and to come one step closer to understanding that death is a natural part of life, and that it is ok to cry, ok to feel sad. That together, we make it through. And it was a wonderful lesson in the responsibility we have to our pets to let them go when it is their time. 

The next morning, Pepper could hardly get up and seemed to be in pain and nauseous. I carried him down the stairs to the backyard, where he slowly walked around, maybe saying goodbye to his favorite places in the yard. Then it was time. We put him on his bed in the back of the van and drove to the animal hospital. The staff at Chappelle's is wonderful, and they suggested we could put him to sleep in the back of the van. So it was there, covered in a blanket, with his head on my lap, that he passed peacefully into his next life. Pepper left this world with dignity and surrounded by love. 

I still see him out by the barn, and feel his nose on my hand as I do my chores. As I stepped back from my painting last night, I almost tripped on his spirit. 

I miss you, Pepper!