Marcello

I lost Marcello yesterday.

It is still rather fresh right now, being in denial, feeling horrified that I put him down, knowing it was the right thing to do, agonizing that it happened too quickly and that I didn’t have time to say a proper goodbye (would that have made it any easier, though?). 

We noticed his health declining over the past month and discovered on Wednesday that he had a large mass in his abdomen (it turned out to be a fluid-filled cyst). Before we could do further testing or attempt to drain it, it ruptured. Surgery was not an option, and so I made the decision to let him go.

I know they say dogs don’t have a concept of the future. How lucky they are to constantly live “in the moment” - something we humans have to make a conscious effort to do and that every form of meditation encourages. Dogs just do it naturally. I’m guessing if they don’t think about the future that perhaps they don’t dwell too much on the past. I can only hope Marcello “felt” he lived a good life. He seemed to enjoy it. 

Now that he is suddenly and abruptly gone, I feel that I somehow let him down. That we didn’t make it to my “dream home” in Oregon before he left us. I had daydreams about walking Mr. Pants and Sister Girl downtown to our favorite coffee or brunch spot and them being the center of attention; fabulous conversation starters per usual. I say I wanted that for him, but I know I really wanted it for me. Marcello certainly wasn’t a farm dog, but he loved trying to be, running daintily down the driveway with his sister farm dogs Tater and Zuma, barking at the delivery or mail trucks. He also loved eating nasty, stinky dead things left behind by the farm cats and nature doing what it does in rural places.

He was such a beautiful boy. He was also our special needs boy (if you knew him, you knew). I didn’t realize how much stress I’ve been under with him for the past few years. I’m simultaneously grateful and also guilt-ridden that I feel some relief from that stress. Being present with those feelings is pure shit right now.

I haven’t made a lot of huge, life-altering decisions in my life, but I can say the decision to get Marcello was one of my best, and knowing everything I know now, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.

There’s something about a dog’s love that is unlike any other. Having someone love you simply because you are you, who makes you feel like a hero and the best friend ever — it’s something to aspire to.

Rest easy now, Mr. Cheesy. Mama loves you.