Saying goodbye to Casey

I've always said that Casey is our "main dog." Since Chase and I first drove to Fort Worth and picked out the last one of the litter in 1996 and drove home with him crying like a baby he's been part of our family.

- He slept on the floor beside John's side of the bed.
- Started the other dogs in a joyful chorus of hello's everytime we came home.
- Was the only dog I ever knew who said 'thank you' whenever you did something nice for him. (He would affectionately bite your hair.)
- Kept a vigilant watch out in the fight to keep the squirrels from infiltrating our territory.
- Was my walking buddy for years and years until his hips got bad.
- Loved it when John would sneak him a hamburger patty with no condiments.


Last night his brain tumor progressed to the point that it was causing him pain.  After two months of suffering from seizures and simply not feeling well, he began a chorus of terrible groans.  We took him to the emergency vet clinic where we learned the pressure on his eye was causing him pain and that though they could drug him to manage it, the situation would only get worse as the tumor grew.

Bethany was able to join us before we said goodbye. She brought him a hamburger, and perhaps the most telling thing about his condition was that he couldn't eat it.

John prayed and thanked God for the gift that Casey has been to our lives and the doctor gave him a shot after midnight and he slipped away as we huddled around him and stroked his fur.

It is weird that there is a hole in our house where his presence used to be. Even sick, there was a comfortable, steady 'dog-ness' that is now absent.  We will get Casey's ashes in a few days and take him to the disc golf course where he and John used to run.

I think about that now.  That somewhere Casey is in heaven running and smiling. I'm a deep believer that one day I will see him again.
© Random Cathy
Maira Gall