Animals hold a very special place in our lives; they always have. From my first dog, Rover, who stayed with me just over 15 years from the time I was one to my high school years, to Ginger, a dog I have had for nearly 12 years, they have always been more than just pets. Rover, a Dachshund/Beagle mix, was just about as perfect as any dog could be. Not everyone would agree with me, but that's OK, he wasn't their dog; he was mine. When he did finally decide to go see Jesus, it was on January 18, 1978, just after his 15th birthday on December 1, 1977. He hung on as long as he could.
Then, after Rover, came Lady, Chrissy, Doni, Angel, Bebe, Ricochet, and others -- Matrix, of course, Faith, and George. Each with their loving hearts, wonderfully inspiring souls, and their unique charms that made them all so very precious to me. Ginger is no different; she is as unique and as individual as she is marvelous, and it is because I love her so very deeply that I am going to escort her to the Rainbow Bridge in just a few days. She has been too good to me; I could not allow her to suffer any longer for my own selfish hopes that she could recover or "get better", when I know she will not.
I found Ginger, a Chihuahua/Pug mix at the Edmond Animal Welfare back in the fall of 2014. She was a gift to George, who needed a friend. She was about two or two and a half years old. She was an escape artist; her previous owners couldn't keep her in the fence. She was found on the cat side of the building in a kennel that read "Ginger" - so the name stuck. The real Ginger was a golden, hairy feline who had just been adopted. Ginger's kennel name was "Angelica" -- Nope! She's a Ginger!
When she came home, she and George hit it off immediately, and they were absolutely inseparable until the day he was taken to the vet for the last time; he was only 8. He had injured himself too severely. To say she was devastated would be an understatement. She pined for weeks for her best friend. Now, because I love her, she will see him again soon. We have a couple more days to spoil her rotten before taking her to her vet, and we'll take the time to really show her the love she deserves. With quiet, elegant reserve, Ginger has won our hearts for nearly 12 years.
We noticed her decline recently, and through diagnosis, I was told her esophagus is collapsing. It is an incurable thing, but managed somewhat with anti-inflammatory meds and other medicines. She didn't like them. She rejected some of them. The effects seemed worse because they caused her stress. Over time, maybe six to eight months, she has developed some other issues causing her discomfort, including an obvious observed behavior that mirrors human dementia. She has been staring at the corners or at nothing for hours at a time.
This week, I've noticed she has been losing weight, and the goose-honking has become worse each day. It's been nearly impossible to get her to breathe correctly in the morning. The vet stated that this would only get worse, but the final reason for my decision was her inability to keep food down. Her belly is very upset, and not only is she spitting up bile, but her discharge also has a gray color to it and an off-putting odor. Her vet confirmed what I knew to be true. It's time.
So, in honor of my sweet sweet girl, I ask that anyone reading this, think about the times you have shared with an animal or pet you really loved - and keep that thought close in your heart as well as in your prayers. Ginger will be fine. She will cross the bridge soon, but she will not be alone. She has lost several friends over her long life; and her best best friend in the world will be there waiting for her. She doesn't know it yet, but my Dad will scoop her up as soon as she arrives. He's like that, you know; he's an animal hoarder - one of Heaven's best.
I love you, Ginger. I truly, truly do.
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