GOODNIGHT, SWEET PRINCESS

Today marks the fourteen-day anniversary of the passing of my dog Trixie. She was a sweet, well-mannered, pure-bred pug, whose only form of aggression manifested itself by the act of "kissing" someone to the point of bodily harm. She was very popular with my neighbors in the condominium community where I live because of her habit of occupying a corner of the balcony, irrespective of the weather, and greeting all passers by with a yelp or two, knowing full well she was protected from retaliation by a storey in height, and some metal railings.

Trixie had been ill for some time. Diagnosed in June '09 with Grade III Mastocytoma, a relatively common cancer in canines, it had developed past the point of surgery and her advancing years became the primary reason for the decision of palliative care alone. Despite this, she was her old self right up to the last evening, even waiting outside for me to return home. There I would see her pacing the balcony and erupting into an explosion of barking as soon as I exited the car, just as on any normal evening. But, the following morning, I knew it was "the day". I can't explain how I knew it was "the day", I think only another pet owner, one who has had to make that terrible decision them self, can understand, but I drove, numbingly, to the vet, muttering over and over, "today is that day, today is that day...." And, so it was, the veterenarian was in complete agreement (in fact, after the decision was made she confessed I may have waited a bit too long), and within minutes, it was over. She passed very peacefully, in my arms, surrounded by a loving vet staff that had cared for her for many years.

Fortunately, I live in a very pet-friendly community, and as I said, Trixie was well known and well liked, and I have the luxury of having a boss who knew that Trixie was my "kid", so everyone has been very sympathetic and kind about Trixie's passing (one older resident even cried when she heard the news). Now, that's a real comfort because I don't know how I would cope being surrounded by people who think of pets as "things". I know how those people think because I was one of them. Before I had gotten my two dogs ("Alice" passed many years ago), my first utterance on hearing of the loss of someone elses pet would probably be, "oh, I'm, sorry to hear that...are you going to get another one?" I'm much smarter now; I know a pet is truly a companion, a friend and champion, a true family member and one who gives unconditional love and asks very little in return. As many fine people as I know, I can't think of one who has all those attributes, and I doubt I'll ever find such a person.

So, do I plan to get another dog? I doubt it. My work schedule is hectic, but Trixie grew up in, and was used to that environment and it would be unfair to not give a young puppy the undivided time and attention it truly needs. So I tell myself, sometimes choking back a tear, "I've had my 'dog days', I don't need to do that again", but if I'm honest the truth is, there could never be another Trixie, or as she is known by her AKC registration listing, "The Princess of Park Place".

Goodnight, sweet Princess.