I knew today was going to be a tough day for me. 12 months ago I held Remington in my arms on the kitchen floor while he had the seizure that would cause his death later that night. He’d been afflicted for a month with a vicious blood disorder. Thankfully as long as we kept him on his medicine and transfused him he felt pretty normal, so he wasn’t suffering. But the risk of a seizure was always there, and with no platelets, that would cause a cascading internal bleed which is what happened. His little heart was beating so fast during the seizure, like nothing I had ever felt before and I told him it was ok that if this was his time to go it was ok and I loved him. He was only 18 months old.
I woke up this morning at roughly the same time he’d awakened me a year ago to find myself looking into his sister Eowyn’s eyes. A little while after Remington’s death our breeder called* to say that Eowyn, Remington’s half sister by blood, had been rejected by her family she had been placed with. Jane was heartbroken over Remington’s death even though his breeding and line almost certainly had nothing to do with the disorder according to the doctors. We were concerned about replacing him so fast, but when we met her we were shocked at how just like him she looked, but had her own personality. So we gave her our home.
She slept with me most of last night, an unusual occurrence because she often prefers to sleep on the floor because its cooler. I looked into those big brown eyes she shares with her brother and I felt pretty ok. She was lying on her side to my right towards the edge of the bed, her legs facing me. She stretched and did one of those adorable long yawns she does and leaned her head back as if to say “I am so cute. None more cuter.”
In mid cute-showoff she promptly fell off the bed.
Well, her back end anyway, which was even more funny. She managed to spin her front half forward as she began falling so that only her butt hit the floor leaving her perched somewhat precariously over the side with her front paws splayed out and a “What…the FUCK just happened” look on her face. That look quickly transformed into her “Aw man I embarrassed myself” look as Rochelle and I laughed at her.
So one Oct 2nd morning was pretty awful. And another one was pretty ok. I miss ya Remy, but your sister is pretty awesome.
* Every time I mention we use a breeder for some of our Goldens on twitter or my blog I get The Lecture about rescues. Fear not! Our oldest Golden Buddy is a rescue, and in between Remington’s death and our giving Eowyn a home, there’s the awesome story of “Rufus” (it’s in roughly the middle of the blog post)