Hello fellow tripod friends! My name is Kim and I’ll tell you a little about my heart and soul, Americas. Get comfy, this may take a while! Winter 2001, my daughter Shelby came to my work and squealed and begged, telling me about how there were puppies for sale in front of our local Walmart. I told her no, that my plate was full. We already had our wonderful and loyal Lady Dog, who was around 6 years old. Lady is a Springer/Spaniel Lab mix and is sweet and gentle as can be. I got her when she was around 2 and she came with the name Lady, but I should have changed it to Love. All she wants to do is get love and give love. We also had a 1 year old cat. Purrty doesn’t do much of anything, sleep and eat and sit on paper work. Lady and Purrty ( aka, Kitty) got along just fine. They snuggled together and loved each other. After work, I just had to go and at least look at them. Shelby got so excited to see that the people were still standing in front trying to sell their 13 puppies. They remembered her and handed her a puppy with a ribbon on its neck ( she told them she’d be right back with her mom and they saved that one for her-Shelby knew I’d give in, I’m sure). The puppies were of course so cute. Some all black, some black and white, some black with just a little white. The black and white ones looked just like our Lady dog at home. While Shelby was holding her puppy pick, I said, ” I don’t want that one, I want this one. That one was Americas. I paid her the $50.00 and off we went home. We had just seen the movie, Where The Heart Is, ( where the girl has her baby inside a Walmart and named her Americus, true story also). I changed the spelling to Americas. It is pronounced A-MERRA-KISS. She fit right into our home and her new pet sisters. Days after having her the “nightmare” began. ( Back then it was a nightmare, NOW I wouldn’t change anything for the whole world). Merry had worms from hell, endless, and I mean endless piles of poop, diarrhea and pee, IN the house. I was so thankful for wooden floors. She was in and out of the vet, it seemed like weekly, for whatever ailment she had. She was a wild, uncontrollable, completely mischievous puppy. You name it, she destroyed it. I was scared to come home at the end of the day to see what belongings of ours she ruined. Furniture, books, videos, toys, remote controls, shoes, jewelry, kitchen utensils, magazines, the back yard, pillows, you name it, she had it destroyed. She had extendable front arms and claws that came in handy for her to reach whatever was on the counter top. If we turned our backs for just a minute, she woofed in down in seconds. Over the years, she has eaten pounds of butter, countless breakfasts, lunches, dinners, birthday cakes and pounds of fruit. She really liked jumping onto the kitchen table to stand on it to get to the back on the corner counter top and help herself to the fruit bowl and take off with a bunch of bananas. She’s stand on them and pop them open and have her little snack of 2, 3 or 4 bananas. She would wake up in the middle of the night like she was a newborn human baby and want to play or go outside and bark at 2 in the morning. She was impossible to catch. It was like trying to catch a greased fast pig. She loved the chase, but we didn’t. She escaped out the front door countless times and refused to come when called. Neighbors would try to help with catching her. She was so very fast and strong, she’d just barrel right past you. She cried bloody murder when we left, frantically scratching the solid wood door with her claw marks. Neighbors complained of her screaming. Back to the vet, and she was diagnosed with separation anxiety disorder. Hmm, go figure. We tried medication and that didn’t help. She actually got to the entire bottle once and ate all of the pills. I thought she die of an overdose. It didn’t phase her one bit. There were numerous vet visits. Once at the vets, I saw a puppy that looked just like her. I found out that she was one of Merry’s litter mates. The lady and I exchanged numbers, thinking it would be fun for a play date sometime.
I’m not sure what she had done, but one day, I had had it. I called the lady and asked if she would be interested in having Merry. I don’t think I really would have given her away, but I was exhausted from lack of sleep, being poor from vet visits and replacing everything she ruined and a bit crazy from this cute puppy. She said no. I wrote up a “free to good home” paper and posted in at our local dog shelter. There was a four page requirement for whomever was going to take her and they would have to past my strictest test. I think I knew nobody in their right mind would have obliged and that way I could keep her, but I could say that I tried. Of course, no one ever inquired about her. So we continued for years of the same old naughty things Merry would do. I fell in love with her the day brought her home. She was 8 weeks old and has slept in my king size bed with me everyday of her life. She knows no difference. Merry became my best friend. Just writing that word, makes me cry. I’m so scared to live my life without her one day. No one could ever love her the way that I do. She needed a mom that had patience, love, compassion and understanding. I honestly think God gave her to me, to practice those qualities.
We always had dogs growing up. We had four wonderful dogs and I loved them all, but I cannot say that I had a soul to soul connection, a love that is so strong, I can’t explain it. She has always been there for me. Through all of my ups and downs, happy and sad, through it all.
When Merry was around 6, she was limping a lot. I thought it was because she played too hard or pulled a muscle running back and fourth a million times with the backyard neighbor’s Beagle. I took her to the vet and he couldn’t see anything and said to try to keep her contained for awhile. Yeah right. Then her limping seemed to go away for awhile, but returned. She seemed sad and in a bit of pain, but I couldn’t find anything by touching her. Back at the vet, he did x rays and more x rays. He thought he saw a little something, but just wasn’t sure. I remember looking at them with him and saying, ” At least it’s not cancer” because I didn’t see a “white mass” like they do in the movies. He wanted me to take her to a specialist to look into it further. I found one down in Seattle about 2 hours south from where we lived. They had everything from Oncologist, Neurologists, bone specialist- all of them. They did more x rays that didn’t show enough, and sent us home with pain, steroids and anti-inflammatory meds. We did that for several weeks and that was not helping her. She seemed to be more depressed, which broke my heart. We went back and a MRI was ordered. This is where they found something around her right shoulder, deep inside. They thought it was a Nerve Sheath Tumor. They couldn’t do a biopsy with where the tumor was without doing a amputation and I certainly wasn’t going to do that just to find out for sure. A TUMOR?? What is that?? In MY dog? How did this happen and WHY? What do I do? They told me to think about what my two choices were. To put her forever asleep or to amputate her right shoulder and leg and go from there. WOW! What a really hard decision. I went home with more meds for her, which made her pee constantly. She would be sleeping and it would just come out of her. She was embarrassed I could tell, but always told her it was alright. I bought a waterproof mattress pad and could change sheets and bedding in minutes with my eyes shut. Usually they were, because I was half asleep. I had to make my decision and went back and spoke with her specialist and asked all my questions. This was a gamble, as they just didn’t know, until they got in there to see. I went home and typed in the computer the word Nerve Sheath Tumor and Amputation to find some more answers. A discussion board from Canine Cancer Awareness came up and asked if I wanted to join-I did and immediately people wrote to me and told me about their tripods, they sent pictures, videos and told me their wonderful heartfelt stories. I felt a little better about going ahead and doing the surgery after I had seen and heard from my new friends.
My mom, my daughter and I went down to Seattle on a Tuesday night and stayed at a hotel right next to the animal hospital. She was scheduled for surgery the next morning. The specialist really didn’t know if Merry’s tumor was operable and was waiting to hear from a colleague back east. Together they were discussing Merry’s situation and trying to figure out what was the exact best route to take. The tumor was just millimeters away from her sweet precious heart. We waited for hours and then he came in and said they are going to go ahead and operate. I cried and held my sweet best friend, not knowing if I was ever going to see her again in this lifetime. She bravely limped away and we waited and waited. Americas came through fine from the surgery and was going to stay at the hospital for 3-5 days. They felt certain that they got all the tumor and that she should live the rest of her dog years. ( I would have never done the surgery if they told me if would have only given her 1-2 more years). I had to see her and the nurse told me she was heavily sedated and that they didn’t want to get her riddled up and for me to be very quiet. I most certainly didn’t want her to try to get up either, so I did as I was told. As I approached her, I couldn’t really see her amputated side, as they had her blanket I left for her over her new sutures. I was probably 15 feet away and had my hand over my mouth, trying not to cry and she started to try to sit up, even though she was so heavily sedated. I immediately backed away and thought, how could she have heard me? But I think she smelled her mommy and wanted to try to be with me. We left that night and they assured me they would watch her every move. I called every two hours to check in on her. They said she could probably come home on Saturday. When I called, I could hear her screaming in the background, I think it was a combination of her being in pain and she was crying out FOR ME!! The nurses, I’m sure where sick of my calling constantly and asking for her update and telling them to kiss her from me. They called me Friday morning and told me she needed to come home. ( Probably because they were sick of hearing her cry) Merry has always been a crybaby. The slightest of the slight of pain, she will cry. She is a high need baby, always has been, always will be. I was thrilled to go down and pick her up. My mom went with me to support me in yet another journey of mine. She has always been there for me, in all ways. She says she was amazed on how I held my composer when the first time I saw Merry limping into the room on her three legs. As soon as they opened the door, Merry came right in and I knelt down and put my arms around her and cried quietly. We just held each other for awhile and I told her how much I loved her.
I know that she must have been so terribly confused on why her Mommy would have left her there alone and then they chopped off her leg and hurt her. Why would I have done this to her? The looked she gave me was often often and it crushed my heart. My neighbor built a ramp going down the deck stairs so that it would be easier for her to get down it and another neighbor built a ramp so she could get into my bed easier. The first night was TOUGH. She was in pain and I couldn’t stand to see her hurting. I questioned myself over and over again on how could I have done this to my beautiful dog. Was it because I simply couldn’t live without her and I would have done anything to keep her here with me? Or because she really did have a good chance in surviving and she had many more years to live and love. I called the hospital frequently asking to call in a prescription for more pain meds. I wanted her to be almost completely OUT. Two days after bringing her home, she was breathing really weird and I called the hospital, again, and they thought that she might have a punctured lung and to bring her in ASAP. They were 2 hours away, so they said to bring her to the nearest vet. I called one of the local vets in our town ( her original vet is in the next town down and is closed on Saturdays) they said to bring her right in and they were waiting for us when we got there. They checked her over and did x rays. It seemed like we were waiting there for hours. This vet wanted one of his colleagues out of state to look at the x rays as well. Sometimes always better to get that second opinion. As Merry laid there on the table, I held her and was dreading what may have happened next. I couldn’t help but think, that she was going to leave me and I just put her through hell. I felt so guilty and beyond sad. While waiting, a Golden Retriever came in and they were taking his foot print in a plaster mold. I asked why were they doing it and the vet told me it was a nice thing to do. I still didn’t realize what was about to happen. I asked why he was at the vets and he told me he was at the end of his journey, due to cancer. I then realized why it was they were taking his footprint. He didn’t have his parents with him and I asked where they were and the vet said they couldn’t be with him at the time of his death. I was so shocked that someone would leave their best friend at such an important time in his life. That made me sad and mad. I said that I would pet him as he was going to take his last breath and he told me it was ok. Soon, the daughter did come back to be with him, so he did not die alone and I was thankful for that. I was so torn watching this dog leave this world and petting my possibly dying dog and she maybe was going to be next. That was so very hard. I wanted and needed more than that type of departure. A needle, a check of a pulse, a large black bag and off to the freezer for whatever was to happen next. I imagined possible cremation for the Golden. I have issues with what happens after we leave them. I want to make sure that the utmost respect and care of my departed dogs are taken very seriously. That they are still to be handled with care and tenderness. Laying there and crying with Merry, the vet finally came in and said that there was no puncture and they felt it was her way of dealing with her pain management. Again, I asked for the highest, safest does possible to keep her out of pain. I would honestly say the next 2 weeks were horrible. For both of us. Even though I know that Merry is a crybaby, I know that she was in true pain and I still questioned myself on what I chose to do to her.
Despite her pain, just a day being home, my sweet, funny dog, still kept her personality. She hobbled down her new ramp and went up to the apple tree and picked an apple and hobbled back in to eat it. Merry loves to pick apples all day long and eat them. I bet she has 5-10 apples a day towards Fall time. Often she will just sit there with an apple in her mouth, like it is her pacifier. An apple or some type of toy, we usually call them her babies. We can say to her, ” Go get your baby” and she’ll run back and fourth trying to find one of her shredded and pathetic looking babies, that look so bad, but she loves them so much.
By the third week, it was much better and I no longer doubted myself. She was pretty much back to normal, a few times looked at me with sad, confusing eyes- but for the most part, was doing great. She would leap off the deck without using her ramp and it scarred me to death that she would land wrong and break her left leg. I hammered up cross woods so she couldn’t do that any longer and has no choice, but to use the ramp. She didn’t want the bed ramp anymore, but she does have an ottoman that she uses to get up and down from the bed. Sometimes if she thinks she is too high, she’ll cry out for me and want help down. One thing that scares me the most is that she goes crazy, nuts crazy- when the mailman comes to our home. She hears him coming from down the street and when she sees him, she’ll fly off the recliner, couch or bed at FULL speed to try to catch him. Sometimes she doesn’t land so well and wipes out on her chest and I cringe thinking she may have broken her front leg.
Americas has outgrown her mischievous stage-it pretty much stopped when she was about 5 or 6. She is a extremely happy and very goofy dog. She does things that keep me laughing from day to day. She is very opinionated and will tell you what she is thinking or what she wants- a rub down, a cookie, snuggle time, play time or dinner to name a few. She is my shadow and has to go wherever I go. The only time I get the sad looks, is when I’m getting ready for work. She knows and puts on her “Oh, so sad look”. And it works. I love my job, but I can’t wait to get home to see her. She gives me something to look forward to everyday. Every morning, she greets me with such happiness and gratitude. Goes outside to check out the day and comes barreling in to tell me her report. She usually says, “it’s a beautiful day out”!! She doesn’t care if it’s rain or shine, hot or cold. She loves to lay on the deck out on her bed soaking up the sun, watching the birds, bees and bugs fly by. She will lay under the apple trees just looking around, all around her- and just be wagging her tale. She is happy with her days. She loves the infrequent snow and runs around trying to catch the snowflakes or make snow tracks. I can tell her, “Look Merry!! It’s snowing!!” And she’ll run right outside to watch the snowfall. At night, she calms down and ready for some down time. When she is ready for actual bedtime, she’ll let me know by “talking” and off we go. She hops up on the bed, usually laying across the whole bed, leaving me with 12 inches on the side and will want her nightly rub and scratching. I sometimes cry just laying there with her, knowing what such a blessing and how awesome she is and my time with her is far to short and not fair. Merry has taught me countless things about myself and how I should live. Either I’m getting older and more tired or she has taught me patience, calmness, understanding, to be more compassionate and to love unconditionally, like she does me. I like to think the latter. I love to see life through her eyes. Simple and full of joy from the smallest things in life. She doesn’t ask for anything in return, she doesn’t know anything else. She has been loved the day she entered our home. She has been loved, is being loved and will always be loved.
When she breathes out, I breathe in. I just want a little of what she has.