Thursday, December 28, 2006

Ode to Otie


In the middle of packing up and getting ready to move ourselves and my stuff across Nevada, Utah, and Wyoming and into Colorado, I thought I'd take a moment to remember my sweet wonderful baby Otie, who was always my companion in the car. OK, he wasn't a baby but he was to me. He loved riding shotgun in the car and especially road trips when he'd get to have McDonald's hamburgers. The people in the pickup window would always be sort of freaked with a large weimaraner jumping over me and trying to get out the window because he wanted the fries so bad. I know, that kind of food wasn't good for him,but he loved it. It's strange not having him here, but soon after he died I went back to Colorado and scattered his ashes in all the places he loved, including Eldorado Canyon, the Marshall Mesa trail, and the Whole Foods in Boulder. Dave has a weimaraner we adopted together named Olive, so will be good to see her. But she's not that into me. She loves Dave so much that she stays in his truck 24/7, even in winter or when it's a hundred degrees. Weimaraners are wacky, but special.
OK, back to it.

1 comment:

Lostdogzzz said...

Jill, Just finished Woman's Best Friend and had to write to you after reading your essay on your Otie. I lost my precious dog 6 months ago and how she died and the symptoms she showed, seemed to mimic Otie's. I had thought that she had a cold or even congestive heart failure since we thought she was around 11 years old, but the sac around her heart and lungs were filled with fluid that when tapped, revealed cancer. She lasted only a week after that. It has been the hardest time of my life. I weighed the quality of her life versus keeping her and had her put to sleep - the most horrible experience since by girl fought the vet and had to be held down. I still think the decision was wrong on my part. Not that she would have beaten the cancer, but that she was not ready to go. Maybe another day or two would have served her well, but instead I live with the loss and of the heartache of knowing that she was confused and panicked at her end. Your essay gave me comfort to know that someone else dealt with the same situation. A stranger yes, but it still reached me by our connection. Thank you for that.