Saturday, February 10, 2007

Cheyenne Elise, 1994-2007

The awesomest Sheltie who ever lived died at about 11:45 Mountain Time this morning.

Mom says she went very peacefully. She was in pain all week, so they decided last night that they would take her in this morning. Mom says the vet was very kind and soothing -- Cheyenne didn't seem afraid or in any pain after she got the tranquilizer. She got some treats after the tranquilizer shot and then the vet gave her the injection. She relaxed and closed her eyes, and then she was gone.

I've known for a few months that this was coming. So why does it: 1) feel completely unreal, and I have to keep reminding myself that she's dead, for good, forever, I'm never, ever seeing her again; and 2) hurt so fucking much I wish I could chop off a toe so I could think about something else instead? At this rate I'm going to have to wear sunglasses to work for a year.

I've never lost a "real" pet before (not saying hamsters and rabbits aren't real -- but that just doesn't sting the way that losing someone you grew up with does), so I didn't realize until now just how acutely this sucks. Holy fuck did I make a mistake getting another one of these things. I hope I get hit by a bus before Cujo dies. Because I never wanna feel this bad again.

I really hope dogs go to heaven, or that there's a doggie heaven, or something. Cheyenne deserves to get to run around and play and not be in any pain anymore. And I hope to God I get to see her again.

Rest in peace, my sweet puppy.

Labels: , ,


At February 10, 2007 at 6:59 PM, Blogger Michele said...

It will get better, I promise. But, I know that it hurts now. I am sure there must be a doggie's the only way the world can be right. :)

At February 10, 2007 at 9:19 PM, Blogger John-Michael said...

I hope you feel better! Sleeping late usually helps.

At February 11, 2007 at 1:29 AM, Blogger Gino said...

sorry to hear,LF.

i remember when i lost my first pet. we had him 15 yrs. he and i grew up together. it was tough.

At February 11, 2007 at 8:30 AM, Blogger Where Productivity Goes to Die said...

So sorry about your dog. My cat that I had from age 6 died a few years ago, so I can empathize. Cheyenne sounds like she was a great dog.

At February 11, 2007 at 9:26 AM, Blogger LeshDogg said...

My heart goes out to you.

If need be, find this book.
It's wonderfully cathartic.

At February 11, 2007 at 11:18 AM, Blogger cg-c said...


At February 11, 2007 at 5:29 PM, Blogger odderie said...

I'm so sorry. Cheyenne is in a better place now. *hug*

At February 12, 2007 at 12:35 AM, Blogger heartinsanfrancisco said...

This made me cry. I'm so very sorry for your pain.

It reminded me of when I had to do the same for my grey wolf, Baby, because the vet was sure she was in pain. The weird thing was that although I am a reasonably intelligent adult, I somehow believed that if we did this thing, she would be magically healed of her cancer.

It seems inconceivable to me now, but on some level, I really expected her to get up and jump in the car. I felt completely ripped off when she didn't.

And I absolutely believe that we will be together again someday. That place they call Heaven would not work out for me without her.

I wish I could say something that would make you feel better, but I don't think those words exist. I'm just so sorry.

At February 12, 2007 at 3:46 PM, Anonymous knights13_ghost said...

As many have said, words will not get rid of your pain. Although time will block your pain; unfortunately, won't get rid of it neither.

One thing I've realized, is that even when you lose a close loved one (human), in the long term the dog is always the most loyal and faithful friend. Us humans, not so much.

Towards your dog there are positive feelings.

Towards the human? Not so much.

At February 12, 2007 at 6:01 PM, Blogger The Law Fairy said...

Thanks everyone for the kind thoughts and wishes. Heart, I cried reading your story about Baby -- I know exactly what you mean about somehow feeling like there's a "cure"... we think about it in terms of solving a problem, but not all solutions are pleasant ones.

The hardest part is I can't even be around my immediate family right now... they all get to see each other and comfort each other, and I'm stuck here in LA without anyone who really "gets" who Cheyenne was, what it was like living with her... I usually don't mind being alone, but right now if it weren't for Cujo, I might not be able to handle it.

At February 12, 2007 at 6:06 PM, Blogger heartinsanfrancisco said...

I'm glad you have Cujo. Cheyenne sounds like an incredible being. I love Shelties. They are so smart and have so much presence as well as sweetness. A veterinarian friend once told me that he considered them the number one best dog for children. And they are absolutely beautiful.

I don't believe that love dies because it is energy, and energy has to go somewhere. So I know that you will see her again.

At February 12, 2007 at 8:42 PM, Anonymous knights13_ghost said...

"I don't believe that love dies because it is energy, and energy has to go somewhere."

From my view, I would say that love does die depending on the conditions present. I believe that love is a bond with varying degrees. Certain love would have strong bonds (like a triple bond) and certain love would have weak bonds such as single bonds. If you are referring to an energy source that emits love (radioactive decay) then that is slowly dying too.

I would have to agree with you that love doesn't die out under different conditions. Eternal energy i.e. God (In my belief). Having faith that if a human can construct a ford and duplicate it easily then I would have faith that God can duplicate us with different set of universal laws.

Yes the possibility to a believer is real. Although, a non believer would give it a probability of 1/infinite.

At February 14, 2007 at 11:03 AM, Blogger Andy said...

I'm sorry I've been a negligent blogreader and haven't had a chance to comment yet. My condolences! It HURTS losing pets. I look at my two cats, who are just 11 months old, and I just don't know what I'd do without them.

At February 23, 2007 at 10:57 AM, Anonymous roonie said...

Gawd. I am sorry. Just reading about your doggie's untimely passing reminds me of my doggie Haley's demise in December 2004. Cancer. Gawd. It sucks. I am so sorry.


Post a Comment

<< Home