In Love and Sadness (a blog written by Cary)
The sun didn’t come up today.
In fact, it set last night at 6:50pm on July 23rd, 2020
I just took a shower after cleaning up the deck. I went out originally to place some torn-up dog beds in a bag to put in the trash. Afterwards, I couldn’t help but see all the dog poop in the yard. It’s been 2 weeks since I’ve picked it up. We hired a good neighbor to take care of our lawn this year, and I feel bad for having left the poop sit for so long.
I filled a bucket, lined with a Kroger bag, tied it off, and set it in the trash can on top of the dog beds. When I got back on to the deck, I remembered why I came out in the first place. I needed to clean the bloody paw prints off of the deck.
Yesterday, I was working in the ER. It was a pretty easy day. I started off being the float nurse, for the first time, and that made for a morning full of supporting others. It made me feel good and made me feel closer to the team. In the afternoon, I was given 3 rooms. Normally, we have 4 rooms, so this was going to be a laid back day. I was pretty excited. I got to spend the day talking to, and getting to know, some other nurses I hadn’t spent much time with. I had some wacky patients (it’s an ER afterall), and my shift started to wind down with 2 patients waiting to be transferred. I was excited to be off and be with Erin.
Around 6:50, my phone began to ring. I didn’t recognize the number, so I sent it to voicemail. They called again. And, again. Again. Then, Erin called.
Fuck.
I called Erin back, no answer. So, I listened to my voicemail from the unknown number. It was a neighbor I have never met asking me to call my wife. The first wave of panic came when she didn’t answer. I called the neighbor back, and I was quickly told that Penny and Fiona had been in a fight, and one of them bit Erin. I could hear her in the background, she was not well. She came on the phone and asked me to come home.
Penny, badly injured, was on the way to the emergency vet with great friends, Fiona was locked in the back yard, and EMS was going to look at Erin’s hand.
A lot of phone calls happened on the way home from the hospital, and my mind was swimming. Another great friend, who was on shift for the EMS, called me to fill me in. After some negotiations with Erin, we decided that I would meet them at our house. Erin didn’t want to ride in the ambulance to the ER.
I left my car running and opened the ambulance door. Erin was covered in bloody fur from her collarbones to her feet. Her hand was wrapped in gauze, but I saw her bright blue eyes and knew that we were together and we were going to make it through this.
A lot of people imagine that we have a good relationship. We hear it a lot. (I don’t mean to turn this into a masturbatory self-high-five session.) But, the thing is, I feel like we do.
14 years and 8 days ago, I made the only good decision I think I’ve ever made. We were married in the eye of a hurricane. Our wedding day was a bright spot in the midst of a terrible storm. Within 12 months, I lost my dad, Erin lost her mom, and my grandmother passed away. I would like to keep it that short. Seems doable in 12 months.
I come from a long line of abusive, angry, anxious people. I participated in a terribly abusive household growing up. I didn’t feel safe or loved for much of that time. I have always expected everyone to leave and I don’t expect anyone to love me. My Dad continued to do some incredibly hurtful things after my parents split, and in the 5 years before his cancer I spoke to him on the phone maybe an hour total in small chunks. I can still picture him in the hospital, I didn’t know the man in that bed. All the blood was pooling in the top-half of his body. The tumor in his chest was pressing against his superior vena cava. That began an incredibly fucked up few years.
Erin’s mom got sick, and she hid lots of her pain and symptoms around the wedding. She, and Erin’s dad, wanted us to have a wedding. Shirley would not let her illness stop us from being together. After the wedding, she and Erin spent so much time together and flourished in the honesty of the inevitable outcome. She was a better woman than any of us deserved.
All of that to say that we spent our engagement, wedding, and first year of marriage in hospitals and hospice. We rode the awful grief-filled roller coasters of hope and despair that comes with fighting cancer. We watched both of our families get torn apart. It just drove us closer together as we navigated those times. (We didn’t have a cake on our wedding day. A great friend stepped in and saved the day. My life has been lined with great friends.) At times, I’m shocked we were able to plan a wedding at all. But, through it all, we laid a foundation in our relationship that has carried us through.
That stability filled the ambulance last night.
Erin is stronger than anyone has any right to be. She fought both dogs trying to separate them, without a second thought. Not because she’s dumb. Not because she was afraid. She did it because she loved them both so much. She loves everyone fiercely. She loves them to the point that she will walk on their feelings to help them grow. She tried everything she could to get them to separate and cried out for help. When the neighbors came, she had them call and get Penny to the emergency vet. She had a hole in her hand, and still made sure Penny was safe.
Erin’s hand is not broken and has little to no tendon damage. It was cleaned, she was medicated, and we were ready to leave the hospital. I got a phone call from the emergency vet.
Penny’s injuries were extensive. She was in shock. Her blood work was very bad. She had so much damage to her chest that she would probably never walk again. She is 13 years old. We had to decide whether we would force her to endure the recovery process that may have lasted for several pain-filled weeks. Or we could say goodbye.
Penny was on the gurney. She had pressure bandages holding her skin to her body. There was a spot on her fore-paw that had peeled back and exposed the tissue underneath. They didn’t miss a spot while bandaging her. The other damage was so bad that it wasn’t a concern. Penny was high on pain meds, but she wagged her tail and turned toward us when we talked.
We said goodbye.
The drive home to get Fiona was hard. It had been raining while we were in the ER. She was outside. She had been struck with a shovel in an attempt to get her to let go of Penny. She had to be hurt, alone, afraid. She didn’t deserve to be alone, hurt, or afraid.
Erin found Fiona in Chicago. She was skin and bones, all cut up, and had clearly been nursing a litter recently. We took her in because she looked used/abused, but she was full of so much love. She would bathe the cats, sit in everyone’s lap, and if anyone was upset she would sit with them. She was an emotional support dog. She and Penny would sleep together, play together, and follow Erin around the house when she cooked. They were inseparable.
I could give you a dozen theories for why they fought every few months. The why doesn’t matter. They were both pit bulls, but I’ve never been loved by a dog the way I have been loved by a pit bull. It’s funny how everyone wants to give us their theory. Fuck you and fuck your theories.
This morning was hard. We gave Fiona double-doses of doggy pain meds that we had on-hand. Erin stayed in the living room all night with her. I slept for about 4 hours. We spent the morning with Fiona.
We laid in the living room with her. She got 2 breakfasts. I made her and Luna eggs. She got a lot of peanut butter. Fiona could not get comfortable, and spent most of the morning adjusting and trying to relax. Finally, she and Erin napped together for one last time. I wanted nothing more than for Fiona to feel safe and loved one last time. I stayed quiet, listening to them snore, as tears streamed again. We pet her, told her we loved her, cried, and she pushed into us and consoled us in our grief. She was in so much pain, but she was still trying to care for us.
Ultimately, we could not keep Fiona safe. There wasn’t a better choice. That doesn’t make it easier. It just makes it still fucked up. She deserved better than this. I wanted 10 more years with her. We took her to the vet at 11:45.
We said goodbye.
As I look back now, I remember that we got Penny and Fiona from terrible situations. We bought Penny for $40 at a gas station from a car full of weed smoke. (that doesn’t make them bad people, but I’m glad that we got her from a home that was willing to sell her at a gas station.) Even before Fiona, Penny was Erin’s companion. She stayed right next to Erin. Fiona had been through some shit. We got her name from Shameless. Fiona is a bitch from the south side. I hope that we were able to make them feel loved half as much as they made us feel loved.
I don’t imagine the sun is going to come up again for a while.
Goodbye Penny and Fiona. You are both good girls.