Eulogy for My Best Friend

Caring for Laika: Mercy As the True Expression of Compassion

This is the quietest that my house has been in the past 10 years, save the handful of times that Laika was staying in the hospital or I was away doing something or other with a band or traveling the world. I keep waiting to hear the wag of her tail or the sigh that she loved to make so loudly that, even if you were in the other room, you knew she was tired of you not giving her attention. All I can hear is the the fan and whatever faint sounds of the birds and cars used to escape me because of the four-legged, snoring beast that was my shadow for the past decade. This morning, after a long battle with mast cell cancer and a short decline in the past week, Laika is now free from suffering of the body. Her body and soul were fighting with all their might, but the cancer proved to be too much for her to handle. I made the decision to end her suffering today, while she was still able to enjoy my company with dignity (despite her very swollen neck, throat and legs). Laika's body died very peacefully in my arms around 9:50 am this morning, as I breathed her last few breaths in unison with her. She was surrounded by family, friends from the vet and her doctor who tried everything to stabilize her quality of life, against stiff odds.

Leaving the house this morning, I knew that I would not be bringing Laika back. This past weekend was the most peaceful and full that she has had in a long time. She spent most of Saturday outside in the backyard with me. In the evening, I made food and listened to music with her. She wagged her tail and got so happy when I would do silly dances and clap along to the songs. At night, she slept on my bed by herself and kicked her legs and made low barks as she ran and ran in her dreams. Yesterday, she was not feeling well, and her body was becoming more swollen which also affected her mobility. Still, she wanted to go for a short walk...even seeing a cat AND a large deer. She tried to freak-out, (as she did millions of times in her youth), but fell-over after a good bark at the cat. Also, she was able to go with me to see Lynda and enjoy about an hour of grass-eating while seemingly listening to the neighbors play guitar into the darkening evening. When we got home, Laika laid-down on the kitchen floor and I laid down with her. She wagged her tail uncontrollably when I hugged her and snuggled closer as I talked to her, telling her that she was the bravest dog ever and a very good girl.

This morning, at 2:30 am, she woke up and drank water. She woke me up with tail-wagging and wanted to go out. She seemed to have a burst of life, but after coming back inside, she paced restlessly and eventually laid-down heavily to sleep under the kitchen table, facing the wall. She was in the same spot when I woke-up on the couch at 6:30 am, but, to my surprise, she came upstairs to watch me get ready to take her to the vet for our regular Monday treatment. I sat and meditated and prayed with her in the small hallway of our new house. When we got to the vet, the tech looked really concerned and told me to wait to see the doctor. I already knew that Laika was on a fast decline, but needed to know for sure. I waited. My parents came to support me. The doctor told me that Laika was nearing a lot of suffering. I knew the right decision to make.

We were moved to a more private room. Laika entered and had another burst of energy. Her eyes brighter than the last few days. She was so excited to see everyone and sniffed every corner of the room. She gave me a last kiss when I asked for one. The vet techs gave her a "last meal" of previously contraband food, that I was hesitant to give to her...my mom served it up for her and Laika ate it all in like two bites. Then I was able to have some alone time with Laika, with a brief interruption from a very nice social worker. I told Laika that I loved her and she was going to soon be free from suffering. I told Laika that she always tried her best. I apologized for not always being understanding. I prayed for her soul to be safe. She wagged her tail slowly and looked me in the eyes. I didn't need to tell her anything else. In spite of everything Laika had to face in her life, in spite of all the surgeries, all the treatments, being abandoned on the street as a puppy and being bounced between a few homes until I became her guardian in early 2007, I knew that everything we did together had meaning on so many levels. I knew that there was a love and a connection stronger than anything I could put into words. We both knew that our time together as dog and guardian was coming to an end. I rang the bell to call the vet and techs to come in. Laika laid in my arms, I said a quick prayer for her and held her head in my hands. I took her last few breaths with her quietly, along to the stifled sobs of everyone in the room. She was finally at peace, after such a hard-fought life. My best friend, who gave me both the most difficult tests and unconditional love for so long was still and lifeless. Her soul was free. She will be missed, but her lessons and spirit will live on with everyone who had the pleasure of being tail-whipped by her, or who had their feet blessed by her sitting on them to show affection.

Over the past several months, I have tried not to think about about Laika's passing...but the reality of life is death. The reality of her sickness was that I would be the one to ultimately make the decision about when enough was enough. Through opening my heart and listening to her with empathy, I was able to hear when she finally spoke to me. I knew that the greatest act of compassion for the one you love is mercy. Laika lived life to the fullest. She was the worst dog that I ever knew, she was the best dog that I ever knew. I am truly blessed to have been able to live and grow with her, through all of the ups and downs and all the in-between times. Laika taught me the true meaning of unconditional love. Freely giving without wanting anything in return. It made it easier over the past few weeks to change her bandages twice a day and count pills for 30 minutes every Saturday evening. Laika was a teacher in all aspects of life. She consoled me when I had tough times and taught me that in the face of the unknown, there is no choice but to continue living and fighting. Her drive to please me and just simply be there with wagging tail and a sloppy kiss when I returned home sweaty from a run was her greatest pleasure. As the lessons live on, the teacher's spirit never dies. Laika will continue to live and love will continue to flow from her soul.

Rest In Peace, Laika. You have given to me more than I could ever hope to repay. I love you.