For those of you who knew, or ever met Topaz, you know what an extraordinary dog she was. For those who never met her, but heard about her, maybe you are able to imagine a small glimmer of her personality.
Topaz was put to sleep today, February 7, 2009 at 14 years 7 months old.
Mary and I knew that Topaz would let us know when it was time. When her job here was done. When she wanted to move to a better place.
Mary and I knew we would not let Topaz suffer, and Topaz knew she would have to tell us when. So a couple of days ago she stopped eating and became extremely lethargic. Then last night she did not want her midnight snack for the first time, and then she didn't come upstairs at bedtime for the first time. This morning when I came downstairs, she did not get up to greet me and get excited about what we would be doing today, which she always does. She wanted no more treats.
Over the past few months she was at the vet every few weeks for more and more tests, drugs, and therapies. She had had it. Enough.
Mary and I knew.
You hear about people who say their dog is a part of their family. Topaz was our family. Since she was nine weeks old, she has been everywhere with us and we believe has had a wonderful life---- in Tahoe running through four foot high powder where all you could see were puffs of snow because she was completely buried; and then that all important task of chasing squirrels away to keep Mary and Dennis safe from the evil predators. In Ft. Bragg running at full speed for a quarter mile along 10-Mile Beach, then climbing the rocks at the shore, chasing some sea gulls away, and proudly proclaiming "I'm in charge here!"
She was with us always, our daily life patterns and habits for the past fourteen years have been shaped around her in many respects. Little things to expect at certain times---- getting a nice wet kiss when we got home, getting very excited to "go get the mail" and "go in the car." We knew she understood human talk because her ears would perk up when we talked of subjects she knew about. She looked at us and understood.
She wanted to please us so badly, and share everything she had with us--- mostly her love, but also her toys. Her goose. Her duck. Her hedgehog toy. On very special occasions, she would let us play with her drumstick, her favorite. But not for very long.
We still need to break the news to Norman, her boyfriend Siamese cat from across the street. He will take it very hard.
We will miss her very much. At various times it will hit us like a brick. But she's with Tahoe and Katie and her drumstick toy. And very happy to be free.
Thanks to all of you who have cared so much and shared your concern with us.
Dennis & Mary