Saturday, December 05, 2009

A Girl and Her Dog

It seems like it was just yesterday, a hot summer day in southern Alabama where a little pup came home to her new family. The year was 1993; I had just turned 13 and had moved to Alabama the year before. My grandfather was diagnosed with Melanoma cancer and my dad wanted to be close to them and support them. My grandparents were amazing people, both were strong and determined but also kind and gentle with a spit of fire and fun. They had been married for over 50 years; years filled with hardships and amazing stories - and each year there was always a dog by their side.

My grandfather had promised my grandmother that she could always have a dog, and he kept that promise right up to the end. Earlier that year, her dear Lasa Apso passed away and now she was ready for a new little puppy. So that October she and my grandfather headed out to the breeders to see a litter of tiny Shitzu puppies. My grandfather picked her out right away and they were soon headed home with a purebred and pure-hearted little Misti. Oh, was she ever feisty and yet incredibly loveable!!! My grandmother, who was almost in her 70's, had incredible patience and love for that little spitz of a dog. Soon, little Misti was housebroken and enjoying her new life in that loving home. Then, just two months later, on a cold December morning, my grandfather went to heaven. Sometimes my grandmother would sit on her old chair and cry, and little Misti would stop playing with her toy and jump up on my grandmother’s lap and lick the tears from my grandmother's soft wrinkled face. Somehow Misti always knew when extra love
was needed and although she couldn't fill the gap that my grandfather left, she provided moments of joy and comfort that my grandmother needed during those times. In the 5 years following I spent a lot of time with my grandmother and with little Misti. My grandmother allowed me to continue her training, so I taught Misti how to sit and jump and "speak" and even how to "commando crawl" on her belly. When my grandmother went on trips, I had the special privilege of taking care of Misti and boy did we ever have fun! She loved jumping on my head and attacking my hair, thinking I was a big monster hiding beneath a mass of long hair. She would follow me everywhere and was my constant little companion. She was always ready to play when I asked her; and always ready to comfort when I was sad. She was my "man's best friend" and I loved that little white ball of fluff. My grandmother told me one day that if she ever passed away, that she wanted me to have Misti and take care of her. I was so proud that she would ask me!
Well, in 1997 we moved from Alabama back to Colorado and I said goodbye to my little side-kick, Misti. When my family would go down for visits and I would stop to see Misti, she would be overwhelmed with excitement and would nearly lick my face off. Then I would test her memory and skills to see if she would remember our special tricks - sure enough, she would sit-up or commando-crawl with barely a movement of my hand.
Just about 7 years ago my grandmother's health started to decline and she needed to move into an assisted living center. Dogs were not allowed, so my cousin took care of Misti for a while. When we went for a visit, Mist was in poor health and my Aunt asked if I would take Misti and take care of her. My parents were not very keen on the idea, but I
promised my Grandmother that I would do my best to take care of Misti. We got back home and within just a few weeks, Misti was almost 100% better. Sores were gone and her energy and spunk was back - I think the Colorado climate agreed with her! Misti loved it here. She learned how to go up and down the stairs (she had never seen so many before!) and she learned what snow was! Wow, did she ever love the snow!! I would put her outside and the snow would be higher than her and she would frolic and bound through the snow piles! She learned to enjoy the snow and I learned how hard it is to get snow out of long, fine, dog hair. (or soot, for that matter)

Ever heard that famous saying about an old dog? Well, Misti and I proved it wrong! When she was about 13 years old (that is 91 in dog years) she learned a new trick! I taught her how to "high-5" and proved that an old dog really can learn new tricks! Over the years, we have do
ne everything together, from hiking to swinging and even bike riding - with her on my back enjoying the wind! Through all these years, she has been my little angel and provided comfort during hard times, licking the tears away and making me laugh again.
Last year, my grandmother's health rapidly declined and my family, along with Misti, went to say our goodbyes. My hero of a grandmother went home and left her dear little Shitzu behind in my care. It's been a tough year for Misti as her sight has gradually faded, her hearing loss increased, and moving to a new house with unfamiliar walls and doorways didn't help. Even with the major changes, she remained spunky and active to the very end.

Today (12/17/09), I did the hardest thing I have ever done and had to say goodbye to my dear little Misti. I held her. Her soft tongue licked my nose. She grew limp. Her little heart stopped beating. Her breath let out one last time. She lay in my arms. Tears were falling on her soft white hair. I said, “I love you". She did not answer back.

She was 16 years old and each of those years will be precious to me; filled with memories of a spritely little dog that loved you when you needed it. Today, I wish she were here to lick my tears away and make me laugh again. My precious Misti is gone now and will never be around to give me a high five or comfort me...I will miss her dearly.

Goodbye, my dear little Misti.

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Misti Memories

Photos of Misti through the years:
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=3705764&l=6c8dc7e6d0&id=509785964