I'll See You Later, Max....
There comes a time for every pet and his owner when it's time to say goodbye. I am at that threshold right now, this minute, on this day. It is so hard knowing that my dear Max is a living, breathing being right now, but that tomorrow will dawn without him. What is worse, my husband and I are in the position of having to make the decision to say goodbye to our beloved pet. This, we will have to do this evening when Rich comes home from work. Max has been at the vet hospital since last night, as his doctor wanted to evaluate him one more time, just to see if there was anything they could do. Unfortunately, there isn't.
The thing is, I've been saying goodbye to him for the past few months, little by little and day by day, knowing that his battle with two forms of cancer could not be won. However, we gave him every chance possible within our means to last a while longer; but now I am asking myself did we really do the right thing? It is a question that haunts me and I know is going to haunt me for a long time to come. But for now, it feels good in my heart to know that we did all that we could possibly do.
I like to think that we gave Max a good life, and I guess we did. Many times his veterinarian told us that at nearly 16 years of age, he had far outlived his breed, and he certainly and courageously fought his battle with cancer and actually seemed to beat at least one of them. However, there is just one thing: that there is no pill, no treatment, no magic button that could be pushed that would turn back the hands of time. That is the battle that our dear Max has lost, and all we can really do at this point is to release him from his pain and suffering as our final act of love. With his back end clearly gone and his being unable to stand up or walk, his eyes told the story far more clearly than I could've ever imagined. It tore my heart to see the confusion and fear in his eyes at not being able to get up.
So, on our last day together which was yesterday, I had a long talk with Max and I told him a few things I wanted him to know. I told him the story of how he came to live with us, and I swear every now and then he would glance at me and his eyes would say something like "Really?" or 'Wow! That was a good thing, Mom!". Then, my talk grew little more serious and I went on to tell him that I understood how he felt about being crippled. He did not know that for three years before he came to us I was not able to walk at all, spent all my time in my wheelchair. It was one of the unhappiest times of my whole life, and it did not make me feel good at all. I felt like a burden to my family and friends even though everyone assured me I was not. I swear, his eyes became a little more animated and it looked as if he understood what I was trying to say.
I explained to him about my AVN, and how my body had to be rebuilt. Unfortunately, this was not possible for doggies, I told him, especially doggies at his age. He seemed to grow little sad at that, but he let me go on. I went on to tell him that even though he could no longer walk I still love him just as much as ever and if there was anything I could possibly do to restore his legs I would do it. There was just one thing I could do nothing about, and that was his advanced age.
One thing Max taught me is to treasure and enjoy every single day, because none of us really knows just how much time we are going to get on this earth. I decided to try to live more like my Max, which means unconditional love and total loyalty to those that I love, no matter what. It also means to let others know when I'm feeling happy, and to let them know how much they mean to me -- as if they were the only people in the whole world. And, it means to find peace and contentment exactly where I'm at. and to be thankful and grateful for everything that I have in my life, no matter how old, worn-out, out of date, my stuff is. He taught me simply to be happy just to "be".
I will never forget my Max, and I will never forget the joy and delight that he brought into our lives. But I swear, the hardest thing in all my life that I have had to do yet to say goodbye to this gentle, kind, and loving creature that I had the honor of being an "adopted parent" to for so long. In fact, I am not going to say goodbye to him -- instead, I'm going to tell him I will see him later in heaven. If there truly is a heaven, my Max will be there, along with the long line of pets that I have loved and enjoyed through my life.
Because if they are not there, then it can't possibly be heaven.
(Max crossed over the rainbow bridge at 9:15 pm, May 22, 2012, being held peacefully in our arms.)
