Astral Travel

This happend awhile ago, but it may help someone and it is a lovely story...

My girlfriend had a beautiful golden shepherd named Squaw who lived a long, happy and adventure filled life. She ultimately came to a place where she was losing control of her body from the tail up. For several months she ailed, soiling herself and everything around her. She was happy, as dogs are always happy, but you could tell she was disappointed and embarrassed with herself.

The hardest part for us I think was feeling guilty about putting her down. We didn't want to end her life because she was a nuisance, or smelled bad, or number of selfish accusations. It seemed so petty to not struggle through to the bitter end with her, shit, piss and all. So we did, we struggled on, like I said, for months. We would simply clean up after her, wiping her butt and trying to keep poopy dreads from forming on her tail. We would walk her ever so slowly so she still got exercise (a dog's favorite past time). We continued to pet her and give her treats. We kept doing this long after the house was filled with an incurable stink of waste and dying. And all of this I think because we were so against being 'bad' people.

Steph was ravaged with tears almost all the time, faced with the nasty decision one must face in those instances. She prayed and prayed for an answer, on what to do. While praying one morning, Squaw (who could barley stand up) came into our room and nuzzled Steph's chin, then laid her head on her lap. She claims that she could hear Squaw's voice (and if you've ever met this girl you'd believe her) saying it was okay, she had lived a happy life and was ready to go home now.

I think it was either the next day or the day after that the vet came to our house. While our roomates made a super-duper sloppy rice-chicken bullion-hamburger-dog chow slush (smelled so good I could have eaten it) Steph and I took her for one last walk. You could tell this sweet old lady knew it was her last as she daintily smelled every bush and flower along the way. She tried several times to go to the bathroom, but couldn't hold her back end steady enough to win that challenge.

When we got back the slurry was waiting, and as she happily gulped down the delight, we all lay on a blanket in the front yard. Soon the vet came and prepared the injection. Squaw I know knew what was coming and was fine with it. She lay down in the middle of all of us with her head on Steph's lap. The needle was injected and as it sank its bitter teeth, Squaw took the time to look at every one of us, saying her good byes, then gave Steph one last kiss as she looked her straight in the eyes and said, "its okay baby, I'll see you soon. Go on now, its time to play. Go on, you're okay." There was a long sigh, a final tail wag, and then tears.

Saying goodbye is no small task, as it can seem cruel, selfish and permanent. But I think perhaps none of this is true. Life is permanent, it simply takes different forms. And I think goodbyes are not forever either. I know you guys will get through this, its the nature of things, and I wish you good luck on your journey.

Taken about an hour before she traveled on...