Thursday, March 08, 2007

Yesterday was a tough day.

Didi continued to slide downhill. She started to get a bit better after having a really rough night. I gave her some oral penicillin and anti-toxin to kill all of her gut bacteria then started to rebuild her stomach flora with syringes of yogurt. Started her on antibiotic shots and kept up the anti-toxin shots. Then it started all over again. Last night around ten I called the Goat Yoda.

I'm frustrated and tired. Betsy brings over a sack full of additional meds to start her on and some banamine for her pain. This goat is not one of the stoic ones. If I hadn't brought her up here, she would have just gone off and died.

And, in the middle of all this, I'm still trying to get a small portion of my work done. But the goat nursing has worn me out. At one point, I go to let the cockers in after they've eaten. I'm bleary and cranky. My lupus is hurting me and my head is fuzzy.

I go out on the porch and I hear myself call it, without thinking, as I've called it so many times over the past five years. I know there isn't an answer to this question as I feel the words sounding into the twilight.

"And so, where's Aegis!" I holler.

I tear up as I gaze over to the hill where his grave is, answering myself.

I keep running into photos of him while I'm pulling stuff for websites. He's so gloriously young and alive. I just can't wrap my brain around him not being here anymore. BossyToe and Phoebe are running my ass ragged and he would have been the one who would have taken care of them. Damn that dog loved a baby goat.

He was the one dog I had that really did something to help. He took care of me. Every animal on this place relies on me to take care of them, the cockers are needy little bastards and I just miss my big yella fella.

But at least Freaky Didi is on the mend now. She was hungry this morning and ate some alfalfa. She's bright eyed and asking to leave the porch. I may stob her out in the sun for a while. She's skeletaly thin from her ordeal, but it looks like she will survive this bout.

Life goes on. I have a backlog of three days worth of farm and house work to catch up on. It's a glorious day today. The sort of day I would have packed Aegis up in the jeep to take for his first swim of the season. We would have taken the balls and the ball thrower and he would have dived into the sparkling water of the creek with more joy than a being has a right to feel. It was what we were doing exactly a year ago.

God. I just miss him so damn much.

13 Comments:

  1. Paul said...
    Sounds like he was a great dog. Animals are all unique, but with some of them it seems ramped up...
    Mallow said...
    oh, dear Rosie, I'm so sorry and sad to read this.
    erin ambrose said...
    hey rosie, i'm sorry for your hard day. My best wolf dog lupa died (i had to kill her) some 4 years or so ago and sometimes...usually in bed, trying to get to sleep, my brain will stumble across a memory of her and i sob like a child.....its tough!!!!and ya know....sometimes i still head outside and call her name...i feel like she can hear me....she's out there keepin' the bears away.
    much hope for you and yours.
    chris said...
    When I was 14, my Bombay cat was hit by a truck. I remember both of my sisters crying. We buried her in the backyard. My older sister still misses her.
    Anne Johnson said...
    I've had one dog in my life. His name was Woofie. He came to live with us when I was 3 and died when I was 17. I'm now almost 48 and I still dream about him. I'm tearing up as I write this.

    On weekends I go walk dogs at the animal shelter. I'm never tempted to adopt one. There was only one Woofie.
    Jbeeky said...
    Oh sweetie. I wish I could march up there and take some load off your hands, or at least make you a cuppa.
    I appreciate how you still can notice a beautiful day. That is a gift.
    Hayden said...
    oh, Rosie, I'm so sorry. they are so much a vital part of our lives, it's horrible when they move on.
    bonnie said...
    your right hand dog...

    So sorry.

    Warm thoughts from cold ol' Manhattan...
    BBC said...
    I've had a few special dogs in my life. One I wrote about on my blog as I recall.

    I still cry when I read that story. But lets face it, they don't live as long as we do and often the best solution is to find another special friend.

    Yup, most animals are dependent on you. I often wonder why poor people take on such responsibility's.

    Shoot, some days I don't want to be responsible for any more than myself.

    I love my cats but I didn't go looking for them, they were born in my yard and then the mother got hurt and was taken away so I became their mother as I didn't want them to go to a shelter.

    Anyway, sorry about you loss. But that soul is still wandering around in another dog, go find it.
    Karen said...
    Saw you over at bbc's and thought I'd drop by.

    So sorry for your loss. We lost our granddog last July but know that she's at the Rainbow Bridge playing with all the doggies and we will see her again someday.

    My daughter did get another forever friend puppy in November. Nothing will take the place of Fressie but our new Bailey is a big help.
    Housewife said...
    Because once in a lifetime a girl has a dog who is really and truly her friend.

    I'm sorry you lost your friend.

    You'll have another, but it won't ever be your special first friend.q
    Erica said...
    Damn, Rosie...days like that suck. I'm blowin' hugs 'n kisses, 'cause woman, I been there and I know that pain, indeed.

    It's nice that you could kinda go visit him, though...and talk to him, outside in nature.
    Libby Spencer said...
    Damn these posts about the pup make me cry. I lost my best friend-dog thirty five years ago and I still miss him.

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