Lessons Learned from Chloe (Requium 2014)
In 2000 I had just lost one of the best friends of my lifetime when my first Standard Poodle Candy’s body wore out. She was nearly 16 at the time. From the bundle of fur I instantly fell in love with and adopted from Jerry’s Perfect Pets in Odessa’s Permian Mall, through my mid to late 20s in Radio at KQIP, as my radio partner known as ‘Candy The Weather Dog’ in 1985 and 1986, through my TV Career with NBC 9 in Midland, to the return home in El Paso for college in 1990, she was my first real companion dog through the ups and downs of life. My heart broke having to put her down in a grueling hot summer when after what we thought would be her last week we thought she would just depart from our home. As a empathetic friend who was the Executive Director of Hospice in El Paso, Dr. Charles Roark once counseled “Death is not always like it is in the movies.” And with a broken heart her body could no longer work I had to release the spirit of my close friend. I swore I’d never do that again.
Three months somehow passed and in the process our rescued Cocker Spaniel ‘Susie’ died one late Sunday night to early Monday morning in pain from failing Kidney’s before there was such thing as a 24 hour vet, I wondered why God made it so hard to pass. After all, in the movies and in books it seems so kind. “They went gently in their sleep surrounded by family and friends.” God knows I prayed the same for all of my dogs and family members. But for us it has not played out as cinematic or like a beloved novel. It came closest though for Chloe when she passed away on 2/26/2014.
Chloe was a gift. I found her online in a primitive version of the Internet in 2000 not 3 months after Candy went to the Lord and a few weeks after Susie departed us as well. My father, then incapacitated by a cruel neuromucular disease and early Alzheimer’s cried it seemed all the time missing ‘his girls.’ Susie and Candy were dearly loved and missed. So late one night with internet dial up AOL and Compuserve I found a rescued female poodle in North Texas, near Fort Worth by the name of Chloe. She was approximately 2-3 years of age and raised to be a show dog but disqualified by an underbite. Then adopted out to a couple in Flower Mound she became a pawn in the tug of war in an ugly divorce. The male who obviously loved them moved to an apartment while the spurned spouse took her anger out on the dogs leaving the inside dogs outside, in the heat and thunderstorms of the Texas elements to where both Chloe and a senior adult were malnourished, matted and with a future not looking good. The husband finding them in a visit took them first to his apartment and then to a woman named Debbie Colvin who saintly ran the Ponder Poodle Rescue, on a few acres near Fort Worth. And Chloe as well as dozens of other standard, miniature and toy poodles found safety and second chances in life.
When I saw that early posted photo, a goofy photo for a female poodle, I knew she was the one for us. Debbie, a school teacher, agreed to meet us, from El Paso, halfway in Odessa over the Labor Day weekend of 2000. My father’s sister and her family, I close to my cousins Tim and Cindy, in what had been my professional career towns of the 1980s was the perfect place for the adoption. Dad, then in a wheelchair and on Oxygen, along with Mom and I drove the 300 miles east as Debbie Colvin drove the 400 miles west for the adoption. When she called our room after checking into her’s I was ready to meet Miss Chloe. Debbie opening the door with a room full of three poodles Chloe emerged to me and it was an instant connection. I took her on a leash down the ten or so room walk to meet my father and mother who also instantly fell in love with her. Spending a few hours with us she did not want to leave. My mother said she knew ‘she was the one’ when she jumped up to lay on the other twin bed next to me face to face. And I knew it too. I had gone out that evening to visit with old friends and I guess I knew it for certain when coming back to the room about eleven she was still on my bed waiting, tail wagging and with a low growl happy talk I was back.
In El Paso she got used to her new home though on two occaisions she bolted out the front door. I later learned that was not uncommon for rescued dogs. Of course I ran after her and grateful she turned right down our quiet street instead of left to a busy boulevard. But it was a game to her to be chased. So I wisely went back to my car and drove down slowly to her, opening the door and she jumped in. I wonder now if it were a test if I would follow after her. My heart racing I was so glad she was safe and back next to me.
We walked in that year of 2000 into 2001. Miles of walking and she loved it. And she stopped traffic too. People rarely saw Standards and for a discard from the show arena she was the main show wherever we went. Children loved to pet her and she loved the attention. Groomed with bandana’s she was a tomboy of sorts often in a ball cap and always having fun living life.
In May of that year I graduated with a Masters from UT El Paso but with frequent hospitalizations of my father and threat of breast cancer for my mother we put the nearly 5,000 square foot homestead up for sale while Mom traveled to Fort Worth for further and more specialized cancer screening. Fortunately it was a false alarm and yet while gone we had an offer on the house. Her medical excursion turned to one of house hunting and within a matter of days she selected one in Southwestern Arlington not but 2 miles from what would become her home church and with a floorplan that allowed her to see my father from the kitchen to the open family room Den, breakfast area, beautiful back yard and open to the Master bedroom. Meanwhile, Chloe and packed, and packed and packed in El Paso. We also walked and walked making nightly runs to TCBY for frozen Yogurt and she always as my co-pilot in the car she came to love.
It was funny or odd – she in the first year we had her would always throw up in the back seat of my parents car and within inches of my mother who rode with her. It was Christmas of 2000 and the closer we got to Odessa the more nervous Chloe became. But once we took her inside to my aunts home for the evening then to our motel room at the Holiday Inn she figured out by Arlington in my brother’s home she was with us for good. And never became car sick again. So in the move East to DFW she was a great traveler with us following my brother in a Ryder Truck with my studio and the things the movers did not have room to take. And we arrived to an area Chloe was familiar with but with what was her forever family and home.
We all settled into a downsized home by nearly half or more but the new digs were great for her. While I continued to look after my parents medical issues I also looked endlessly for career level professional employment and suffered greatly never to apply my degrees or experience in the top ten Dallas Fort Worth media market. The handwriting was on the wall when for one position I applied for they had 2,000 responses within a week. It was a lottery to win and I never held the winning ticket. But we persevered. I reopened my production studio and slowly starved while chasing every lead or new client as if it would all turn around. Despite numerous hospitalizations for Dad and recuperation time at home Chloe was a consistent rock in the storm. Rarely alone she was with me in the car or outside the hospitals where Dad was allowed by wheelchair to come down to visit. She was like a service dog to him and others though never in the official capacity. And she was a Daddy’s girl (mine) throughout. We walked, talked, played, and lived a good life as well as looking after the folks who loved her so much as well. Dad was an easy mark for treats at night though she had to work more for my mother. With me I was an easy mark though we played various games for treats and scraps. She was patient, adventurous and always loving.
As I aged so gracefully did Chloe. She was a very happy camper with us all the time. She had free reign of the house, an amply and adventurous back yard, and her chance of chasing squirrels, the occasional wayward cat, possum or seasonal birds. She barked at the neighbors dog through the fence but always on command ready to run to me and into the house. She was a very happy dog.
We had our scares along the way as well. One of the worst turned out being bitten by a brown recluse large spider in the yard. Never crying she became increasingly lethargic and recognizing it quickly I had her at her Vets with both Dr. Chris Jenkins and Dr. Erin McGrath lancing and treating her promptly. For three months three times a day I addressed the wound with hydrotherapy in the Master bedroom shower, blotting the wound and pus to apply the special antibiotic gel and cover with gauze and several of my cut athletic socks to keep her from chewing the sore. And she was patient. In fact there wasn’t anything shy of dental cleaning she didn’t enjoy. Well, ear wash was not her favorite thing but she was patient to let me clean those and often. It always included sweet talk from me, love, sympathy and an organic animal cracker to boot. Like Scooby Doo she loved her Scooby Snacks.
Another scare or close call was in December of 2012. On the way to a grooming appointment, she standing as always in the back of the Jeep, a sports car in early morning traffic weaved dangerously in and out of the dual lane Park Springs Road commuters and cut us off suddenly. Traveling less than 40 miles per hour and hitting the brakes I found Chloe somehow laying inside the passenger seat leg area and yelping. Instantly pulling over I got to her and bleeding from her mouth I held her checking out her needs not realizing I had those of my own. I did not realize I was bleeding until in the Vet’s exam room minutes later and they citing it was not Chloe’s blood at all. In my attempt to keep her safe reaching back something must have ripped into my hand. But she checked out well albeit sore and she had pain medication for most of the holidays. From that point forward in the vets office that day I purchased a Seat Belt for Chloe and never took her anywhere without being seat belted into the Jeep. And she loved that too.
Not soon afterward did a friend of mine from Odessa, living in St. Louis, suggest Chiropractic work for Chloe. My research had several specialists though exceeding our finances for care. But that friend of mine found one less than a mile from our home who was affordable and turned out to be very beneficial. After a session and then two Chloe responded very well. Enough to like going to the vet. And after about a dozen appointments later as a maintenance she recovered very well into 2013. I however needed a tetanus shot and a few dozen massage appointments myself. Mine were muscle and neck strains. But I was always more concerned with Chloe and making her life worry free. She recuperated quickly to the amazement of her Vets. However, in blood chemistry she had anemic issues with kidney disease over those last three years of her life requiring a switch from the dry food we had given to aid her joints (JM) to KD, from Hills and something we gladly provided. We switched to canned wet KD when she struggled with constipation issues I spotted quickly and added 100% Libby’s Raw Pure Pumpkin to ease those issues. And she loved it of course. Everything was a treat to her. And with often an orange nose and lapping up the liquid molasses iron she was a puppy again. Especially after the supplemental probioitc and joint morning treats being thawed and ready for her to consume. I called it ‘doggie cocaine’ for she wanted it above everything else.
For all the wear and tear of the challenges of life, Chloe was a happy senior. She had already outlived the breed average by five years though we knew with her weight loss to just a little more than half her original 60 pounds she would actually leave us one day. And yet her doctors suggested she was blessed not to be overweight and in such good shape. Late at night though I’d see the puppy turn senior and from watching movies together in my studio I wanted her to live forever but knew she would not.
Chloe was such a special and loving dog. Smart. People say that a lot about their pets and they are correct. They become our family and adapting quickly to our routines, lifestyles and personalities. But a calm, loving, supportive and want for nothing home life is part of that process. I knew she was an old lady in those last two years and looked after her with special kindness and attention.
After the accident she could not jump on the bed any longer. I knew she had difficulty in the year prior to that but gave her help when needed and later lifted her up and down whenever she wanted. In the two years after the accident she especially, like my mother, loved a heated throw. I purchased one for my mother’s back for her bed and for her chair but the one on my bed is what Chloe loved most. Set on low she slept soundly not moving an inch except to raise her head to look at me face to face. I’ve never had a dog that liked behind held or in her face all the time. That was love to her early on but as she lost hearing in the last two years it was how we communicated. She was never deaf but the cruelties of age did rob her of hearting as much as she had. I knew so in thunderstorms or fireworks of New Years Eve or the 4th of July when it did not spook her as much as had all her life. In younger years I’d get on the floor with her under a blanket to keep her at ease with the loud noises. Gunshots or backfires really caused her to tremble too. What she must have undergone as a young dog I’ll never know but it was an indication there was trauma.
In her last years she stuck like glue to me and us – to my mother too. She rested her head on my chest often either in bed or watching movies on television. She was such a sweet dog and how I prayed when the time came she would go in her sleep from my bed or chair. And it seemed that would be the case to where I’d not have to put a friend down through euthanasia ever again. But that hope was sadly not the reality.
Christmas 2013 was subdued for us mainly with my brother and his family spending the holidays away with friends and they with one son in Santa Fe. I knew Chloe was having difficult days giving her some Tramadol to ease the pain of winter. But no more than to take the edge off with a quarter to third of a pill. But by Chrsitmas Eve she was ready to be a part of the gift giving and fell in love with one or her favorite types of toys, a fleece small squeaker. She was a puppy that night for all of about a half hour.
But that shifted closer to midnight reminding me she was also an old lady. And we retired to our bedroom to the heated throw where with the Christmas Mass on the television from Rome we just snuggled into being at ease on the warm heated throw.
By early January with her regular grooming appointment Terry, her groomer found she had a vaginal issue, she claimed at the time. Immediately taking her to Erin McGrath our Vet, I learned I was a urinary infection. Slowly she had drank less water and Erin suggested she may be coming to the end of her time with us. I was not yet on that page though took the brochure for the pet cemetery just in case she did go at home in her sleep and the right arrangements could be made. Wisely our vet in 2000 suggested cremation of both Candy and Susie and am I ever grateful he did. Leaving behind pets in our yard of El Paso of over 30+ years there from my preteens to late teens and then again my 30s was difficult. Candy and Susie were on our wall to wall bookshelf my father built in the late 1960s and I remembering and helping him with that project. I had disassembled and reassembled it in the move and ever go grateful to have their remains/ashes and photos with leashes and collars on the shelf next to the urns. Still, I hoped Chloe would live forever.
Towards the end of January and after adapting her food intake to include more 100% pumpkin and added with low sodium chicken broth she was just eating less and less. I continued the medication and supplemetation to mixed results but through Valentine’s Day she was still with us. She was having more accidents in the house wanting to go outside but by then the BMs were minimal and what urine dripped was easy blotted up. She also was having difficulty standing by herself and we had long since the first of January left her seat belt harness on her all the time except when put to bed with me. We had run a virtual nursing home for my father for a decade and had no problem doing so with Chloe those last two months.
The last week of what turned out to be Chloe’s life was challenging. At times I thought she would go to God on her own and yet she would be resiliant later in the day or night proving me otherwise. I had spoken to our vet numerous times and taken her counsel or advice how to make Chloe comfortable to go. And she said she prayed she would on her own with us as well – but that Erin was there if she had any pain and if need to help in the transition. We had reluctantly spoken of euthansia and what I hated most of doing so with Candy in 2000. She promised it would be more gentle both with the tranquilizer at the house, one injected in her office given time to work and then the final drug to make that possible. I thanked her but prayed feverently it would not come to that.
On the Thursday before she passed I made a feather bed out of the back seat of my Jeep on several layers of blankets, sleeping bag and my bedspread quilt for her to ride (seatbelted) on the back seat while taking my mother to the hair appointment and then on several errands. I did not want Chloe to be in pain or feel alone. We were always with her 24/7 in those last months and all but errands or church or time with family we were at home for her throughout her life. I thought for sure she would pass in the Jeep that day and then later at home but she was not in pain and still licked my hand taking food at times and at others not interested.
On Friday morning I thought she was ready to go in deep sleep at times before I left for a standing appointment. When I returned expecting her to have passed she raised her head and acted as if she were a puppy again. She rose to her feet, shook off the sleep and wanted to go outside. In the yard she actually trotted a little. Was not a run but was active. Explored her yard in the unusual heat of a 75 degree day in what felt a little like spring. But after urinating and a drop of poop she walked towards me and fell like a rag doll. Her legs just gave out. Rushing to her I carried her back to the patio where propped up next to me we just sat in both the sun and coolness of the peace where she sniffed the air and looked up at me and the pear tree white in bloom. For fifteen minutes I just prayed she’d enjoy the day and pass on her own. But she wanted back in side and picking her up laying her on the blanket quilt things just were not right.
I had a 4:30 appointment with our vet for a routine visit set for the afternoon. But at 1:15 Chloe just could not get comfortable and flailed on the blanket. I added the quilt and yet she could not seem to rest or get in a comfortable spot. Then she yelped. Not quite a bark and not barking for well over a year she was in pain and began to panic. I knew enough to give her a full Tramadol and though she hated the taste I concealed it inside a glazed bluberry cake donut. And it went right down. But she continued to increase in pain and we knew we had to head for the Vet’s office. I called ahead but our vet was out for lunch and not seeing patients till three. Just the same we went and loading her in I drove with one hand on the wheel and the other behind me touching and caressing her for the five minute drive to the office.
Once there and checking in – they knowing we were outside – I left the engine running, the AC on, and climbed into the back seat pushing the blankets and quilts over to sit with Chloe. She was yelping less and with sleepy eyes I pulled her gently to be on my lap, her head on my right thigh and her chest with her heart close to mine. And just loved her to sleep from about 2:00 on. By then she was out of pain and semi conscious. And I prayed God would just take her home. By 2:20 Erin drove up and seeing us, looking inside, knew what was happening. We said we had a 4:30 appointment but she told us to give her five mintues and she’d be right back. True to her word at 2:25 she was back helping my mother from the Jeep and carring our quilt as I carried a very limp dog.
Inside the entrie staff was sympathetic and supportive. They had put a blanket on the steel lift table in the middle room but I added my quatered thick quilt with Chloe limp and sleeping. Erin gave her another tranquilizer to her hip and she did not move an inch. What I did not want to do was all too real happening again. But in the moment of the crisis I was committed to do anything to help Chloe including what seemed inevitible.
Erin cried first looking at Chloe and yet was surprised she never reopened her eyes. She was at peace but her heart just continued on. That was the same for my Candy in 2000. For some reason God just wasn’t able to take either which is the one fly in the ointment of my theology and relationship with God. Whatever gene I was missing I could not consciously kill an animal, especially my best friends in life, in the love of a dog. When Erin finally shaved a leg of Chloe I was – compelled – to keep the fur and put it in a plastic baggie. As Erin described what she was doing I asked if it would be okay with her if I prayed aloud. Setting one hand on Chloe’s body this is approximately what I prayed.
“Father God, thank you for giving us care of Chloe. She has been a dog like no other and I love her very much. I ask that you receive her spirit and reunite us all when the time comes. Be gentle and love her. She’s all I treasure.”
Erin through tears said ‘she’s running in heaven.’
I wish it were that cinematic. But the reality was in the instant she stopped breathing by he stethescope of my Vet it took another long minute plus for her heart to stop. But gratefully she never opened her eyes, never made a sound and never moved. And then she was gone.
We lingered for about fifteen minutes and it reminded me of the funeral home where my father was in a family only viewing seven years earlier. Surreal. Painful. But peaceful. And it dawned on me I, we, would have to leave her. I left the quilt for her to lye on. And slowly we left. Not until the Jeep did my mother beging to release her emotions in private and my eyes which are hard to cry or form tears became moist and burned.
It was hard driving past that building on I-20 to and from work knowing she was there. Monday the funeral home picked her up and we paid by driving to the site out in the country not but a few miles from the cemetery where my father is buried. And they were very kind as well. Three days later I picked up her ashes in a medium sized cedar box with her name plate and with the things I collected of hers, her leash, harness, collar, tags, her last squeak fleece toy and her first I set her on the shelf next to Candy and Susie with the photos of our family and a pocket watch under glass of my grandfather’s that also no longer ticked.
Its been an all too quiet and painful house in the seven weeks now that Chloe has been gone. I noticed the dogs across the street barking more than I ever had before in the weeks since. And there was a day last week when late for work I saw a stray from down the street and dropped everything to kneel and have him come to me. I reuinted him, a senior himself to his worried adult female owner. And with tears she was glad to have Cooper home. I took a hit for that in being late for work but would have done so in a second all over again. And for a moment we had a dog in our house, safe, and at ease with loving people.
Its hard and has been hard to find another standard poodle. Breeders seem to have really controlled the population and yet they are cross bred with too many other dogs in the pubic from chihuahuas to labradores. And not that wise of a cross breed either. Purebred puppies on the black market – what I call the classifieds without numbers or e-mail go for $500 to $2000.00. I’ve seen that from $1500 to $4000 from reputable breeders as well. And not many full grown standards at all. I’ve had a few close calls to find and adopt a female standard but hopes dashed and wondering if it will ever happen again.
There’s something about a white, cream or apricott mixed face of a standard poodle that melts my heart. That is the fit like a glove for us. And I hope God will once again for the third time bless us with a dog who needs us as much as we need her. There is one I’ve learned of late Saturday night to Sunday morning. Aspen is her name. 3 yeras old and nearby in Burleson with a loving owner working not far from us in Arlington. Its hard not to get our hopes up but its not yet a phone call to arrange a visit. But I hope it does happen. We need the structure of caretaking and the unconditional love only a dog can offer. A presence. And a safe home. Those ar the the Lessons learned that even a dog from a rough upbrining and early life can in adoption, something that seems so godly, can have a forever home. And I look to that from God myself to counter my life that a forever home is what I will find, someday, with Him.
Chloe Myers 1998-2014