My Best Friend, Suki

by Melissa
(PE, Canada)

Suki was my therapist, my rock, and my best friend. She helped me through so many tough times over the course of her short life.

June 2009, you came home with me, shaking like a heavy, furry leaf on my lap as we drove home from the humane society. At just 10 weeks old you were a big girl. I had trouble keeping you on my lap. When we arrived home you got comfy on the couch and didn't move for about 5 minutes until I coaxed you into the kitchen with some kibble. You started to get playful as you tried to nip at my feet and tripped over your big paws. From that moment I knew that we would be best friends.

As your life progressed there were a few changes, we moved a few times, and relationships ended. You were there to keep me steady as I made tough decisions, crying against you because I was scared and pouring my heart out to you, knowing you had no idea what I was saying, but your big brown eyes always let me know that you understood somehow.

Finally, after moving around from house to house to apartment, we got settled in a wonderful basement apartment with a yard that you could share with 2 other dogs that lived upstairs. You loved the winter here so much. You dove and ran in the high snowbanks. You were so cold you'd be vibrating, and I still had to drag you inside.

For being such a scary sounding big dog you were gentle as could be. You would have never hurt anything and were scared of almost everything. Having to take you out to pee after dark with a flashlight is something I will always smile at. Running from the buzz of any bug is also something that made me laugh.

The laughter and smiles turned to sadness in July of 2011. You were only 2 when you were diagnosed with epilepsy, which meant you had to be put on a drug called phenobarbital for the rest of your days. The first time you had a seizure I was at work. And I am so sorry I was not there with you. It breaks my heart every time I think of it. To know that you went through something so painful and so scary without any comfort hurts me so much. The medication worked for about a month. You were seizure free and starting to act like your normal, playful, happy self again after your body got used to the medication.

Then on Thursday August 12, 2011 I came home and you sat beside me, so close I had to put my arm around you so we could be comfortable and you set your head on my shoulder/chest. You didn't move from that position for almost 4 hours.. I think you knew what was about to happen and you were trying to reassure me that everything would be ok. you started seizing at 10pm. I tried to keep you on the bed while you were sick so you would be comfortable but it was too warm for you. So I put your blankey down on the floor next to my bed and tried to keep you in my bedroom. I gave you my pillow to keep under your head so that when you were seizing you didn't hurt yourself too much.

I rubbed your leg and shoulder muscles after each seizure because I knew you were in pain and I wanted to try my best to remove some of it. When I wasn't massaging your muscles I was stroking your head, to try to calm you down. I called the emergency vet line at 4AM. You had had 6 seizures by that time. The vet on call said to double your medication and give it to you early. So I did. By 6:30 AM you had 10-11 seizures and had started to lose use of your hind legs. I carried your 80 lb body to the back of my car and gently put you inside and drove to the vet. She took you in right away, I knelt down in front of you and you licked my face, I looked at you and said "bye baby girl" and left you in her care.

You continued to seize all morning, so much you put yourself into a comatose state. The vet called me and explained the situation. She said that she had used all the medicine at her disposal, even put it directly into your muscles and veins and it did nothing. She said it seemed like one of the few cases where medicine did not work. She informed me that if I were to put you to sleep, now would be the time because you were finally at rest, instead of seizing like you were all morning. I hung up the phone, cried at work, consulted with family and friends, and then gave her the okay.

I miss you so damn much, but I also know that if you were still here you would have been unhappy, in constant pain and in a zombie-like state most of the time. I'm sorry your time was so short and that there was nothing we could do for you.

I love you so much and I will miss you every day. I thank you for everything you did for me, and everything you will continue to do for me.

RIP Suki boo.