My grandmother died on a sunny day, 9/11 was on a sunny day, and my dog died today, another
I've had her since I was 6, and she was the best dog I've ever had, and probably ever will had. We loved her and she loved us. She never harmed us (except me once, which was completely an accident), she was never mean, and she was never destructive.
Her name was Daffany Oreo (My sister said that was her middle name when we got her. She was four.) Reilly. When we got her, she was about a year old, and we estimated her birthday to be around Septemeber 1, 1995. Our friends gave her to us, after finding her abandoned on a porch. They already had two dogs, so they couldn't afford a third (plus, she was a female while the other two were males). We instantly fell in love with her, and decided to keep her.
It's been almost eleven years since we first got her. She was completely fine Friday, and yesterday she was too. She was a little drowsy, but we thought nothing of it. We had our roof redone this weekend, and we thought that she was simply tired from it. Now, we aren't so sure.
Daffany was always very easily scared. If there was a clap of thunder or the roar of a motorcycle, she ran to find one of us. Well, the constant pounding of hammers and other loud noises, coupled with the lack of knowledge of what it was or where it was coming from, probably put a lot of stress on her heart.
I left my house at around seven or eight last night to stay over at my friends house. That was the last night I ever saw her alive. Whilst playing a videogame, I got a call from my mom, telling me that the dog was having trouble walking and breathing. I raced home on my bike, only to discover that she had died a little bit before I got there. I was told that just before she died, she stretched out, laid down her head, and let out her last breath.
It probably didn't help either her heart or her breathing that her heart was enlarged. We took her to the vet after she was wheezing for several weeks. That was when we found out that her heart was enlarged, which the veternarian said was common among small dogs, and that she had fluid in her chest, which was another part of the wheezing. When she got excited, her heart pumped harder, pushing against her trachea, making it hard for her to breath.
Me and my dad dug her a grave by our fence, and buried her on her favorite pillow, in a crate she liked to lay in. We wrapped her in a blanket, along with the pillow, put her in a crate, nailed a board onto the top, and covered her with sand and gravel.
Below are some links, if you care to look:
A picture of her climbing on a rock near a river we often camp at.
Daffany swimming in the river we often camp at.
Her running in a field under a cliff, near an area we hike at once in a while.
Her sitting on a chair by our side yard, in front of a rose bush.
Same place, just a close up.
Her sitting on our stoop, where the stairs make a corner. She could almost always be found sitting here if she was outside.
Her looking at the camera, while standing inside the door leading outside from our kitchen.
The dog soon after we first got her. She is sitting at the bottom of the steps leading up to their porch.
Same place, just walking around on the sidewalk.
Her lying down on my sisters bed.
Daffany Reilly: September 1, 1995 - May 7, 2006
We'll miss you, and we will always love you.
May 7 2006, 11:49 am (Edited on May 7 2006, 12:17 pm)