Sneaky Bastard

I’ve had a day to reflect on being without Olie, and a chance to catch up on sleep. There are so many things about my day that remind me of him. Some are intentional, and some are habits that I’m just now realizing: going to coffee and sitting on the patio, checking his water bowl every time I walk down the hall, looking for him behind my chair before rolling away from my desk, seeing if he’s asleep in the office before I whistle to myself.

By last Sunday, it was apparent that Olie’s health was quickly worsening. He had difficulty walking — so much so that I used a harness to hold him up when his legs gave way. His panting was constant, and we would later learn that he had a type of pneumonia. Olie had an appointment for Monday at 1100 hrs to remove the catheter in his front leg, but it was clear that the only humane action would be to put him to sleep. I wanted to do something nice for him, just to express how much I loved him one more time. It may sound weird, but I decided to take him to In-n-Out for a cheeseburger. He was always so excited when I shared a bite with him. On the way to the vet’s office, I picked up Kelly at work. I waited with Olie on the patio at In-n-Out while Kelly ordered him a Double-Double, no vegetables. He scarfed it down in seconds, but it was clear that my friend wasn’t completely present.

We sat on a blanket with Olie in an exam room. We both cried and told him how much we loved him. Kelly asked for him to be given a sedative so he could have a moment’s rest. I looked down at his little body and felt a wave of sorrow and relief. In a few days I will make an oak box to hold his ashes, and maybe one of his favorite squeaky toys.

I watched a movie with Heather and Denise last night, then came home to clean the house for a bit and put away some of Olie’s things. It’s hard to be without him at home, where he was nearly always within arm’s length. I tried to give him the best life I could, to the point of spoiling him, no doubt. However, since I won’t have any children, I think I’m allowed. I’d like to toast Olie with a drink. I’d really, really like a drink, but being sober is the only I’ll cope with the grief. In a few weeks, we’ll have a gathering to remember Olie; a BBQ with plenty of sausages. :)