Jill, our yellow lab, died suddenly. She had had some stomach problems, and some limping, after running hard, but she had nothing that looked like it was fatal. So far, no one can figure out what killed her. She had not eaten for a few days, but that was not unusual. On the day she died, she became very lethargic and her breathing was labored. We had another appointment with the vet for the next morning, but during the evening her breathing was so labored, that it was clear that she was dying. Arleah covered her with a blanket, and we gave her a good-bye kiss and just sat with her and cried. We have experienced much loss before, but this is devastating for both of us. Jill and Jack (our black lab) were going to be our last dogs and we wanted all of us to grow old together.
Jill was a beautiful dog. Her coat was blond and soft to the touch. Many people asked us if we had her eyes done by a professional. They were ringed in black, and were a gorgeous contrast to her coat. She lived for the water, and swam like an Olympic athlete. No matter how far I threw the ball, she would dive in, get it, and bring it back to me, waiting for the next toss. She was very involved in her retrieving. It’s like she had a job, and she took it seriously. Jack bossed her around a lot, but she figured out how to deal with him, and go about her business. What we’ll remember most about her, was that she was a nice dog. She was affectionate and easy going. It was like having a good friend around all the time.
Sometimes these days, I feel like a four year old. I just want to close my eyes, hold them shut; and when I open them, Jill will be there. Arleah put it best: “I can’t stop feeling connected to her.” Me too.