This is a draft, which i will force myself to “publish” when i get tired, rather than letting it sit in drafts forever. Be kind.
Luca has been our “old man” for a while now. He began to slow down a bit over a year ago, and I had the bright idea to get him a puppy. “It’ll help him stay spry!” I said.
But he kept getting old. We had to retire him from chuck-it fetch at the park. That was, in other times, a favorite ritual. We’d always take at least two balls; usually Luca would find a third by the time we got to one of the Benches. At the Bench, he’d eventually be persuaded to drop his ball, and Erik would lob one across the field. Luca would run after it, loping back triumphantly, ball in mouth. Repeat. I was thinking about this last night, wishing I knew what alchemy made one tennis ball harder to give up than another, so I could pick the best one for him to have in his final hours.
Once, when it was just Luca and I, on a snowy morning, I wrapped myself in my duffle coat and we played for at least 45 minutes, in the cold.
Oh, the cold! I remember right after he came to live with us, April 2020, there was a surprise spring snow. he was so excited, romping in the snow, trying to catch snowballs in his mouth. Thinking back, it has been so long since I have seen that looseness and agility in his hips and spine.
He taught Lizzie everything he knows about being a good dog (Lots) and the one thing he knows about how to be a bad dog (Bark at everything that involves the door. Always. Loudly. At length.) (I forgive him for this. He was doing his Job.)
And man, he was so *happy*. I often felt conflicted about bringing Lizzie into his life, as I watched his decline. Was keeping up with a puppy what accelerated his aging? But I’d watch his happy grin as he ambled after her as she initiated “CHASE ME! I have the BALL!!” or watch them play tug, and I knew that he was so, so happy to have another dog in his life. (In his life with his First Family, he had a roommate dog, another shepherd.)
We had time to say goodbye. We brought him home from the vet around 3 PM, and the appointment was for 11:30 the next morning. His favorite spot was his bed by the hearth. I found a puppy pad leftover from Lizzie’s potty training, and put it down with a towel. I propped his head with a pillow. I made myself a little nest next to him. I laid for hours staring into his eyes, nose to nose, as I cried myself out of tears.
He couldn’t move much. Couldn’t walk or stand. Could just about make it known through body language when he wanted help or support to sit up a little. Erik was spectacular through it all. After his initial fall, Erik scooped Luca into his arms and carried him to the car. Through the afternoon and evening, Erik carried Luca outside a handful of times. Erik supported Luca to stand and pee, so he wouldn’t have to endure the shame of messing indoors, even though Erik got pee on him. Erik carried Luca to the bedroom so we could sleep as a pack one last time (and got poop on his arm). He flipped Luca periodically through the day, so he wouldn’t get too stiff in any one way.
Our friend Kala dropped off a potted rose and some comfort food. The rose is such a thoughtful gift. Right now, it still sits on the hearth, Luca’s collar fastened around the pot, a tennis ball beside it. In a week or so, we will get Luca’s ashes, and I will put them there on the hearth, too. And in time, the ashes and collar will move into the library, to be with Clive and Kaiya’s remains. And the rose will be planted, perhaps in the spring. And it will live on.
The vet came to our home around 11:30, and as I held Luca’s head in my lap, and Erik stroked his body, he let go. Lizzie watched from a few inches away; Lucky from a roost on the couch across the room. We had some time alone with his body, to say our final goodbyes, and they bore him away on a stretcher.
The household was left in a haze for some hours. Lizzie eventually broke the spell by ringing her bell to go outside. I went out with her, and watched her evaluate the yard with new curiosity. It wasn’t like she was looking for Luca, exactly. It looked, to me, like she was trying to figure out the shape of her new responsibility.
To my shock, it is a beautiful day out. The sun is golden, the sky is blue. It’s not as hot as I expected, as the year turns towards autumn. So, Erik, Lizzie and I took our first walk as our new pack, through the neighborhood park. Our steps moved slowly, and we were so, so tired when we got home, as if each of us has temporarily taken on some of Luca’s arthritic bones.
Erik fills the house with scents of comfort food. It is his way to show love, and find normalcy. There is so much more to write… of Luca’s heart, of his spirit, of his joys. And more to write of my grief, too. But for now, I’m still drained.
Notebook 