hopefully later on i will look back on january 2010 and see it as a most pivotal month in my life. a year ago i was getting on a plane to germany, always a palliative effort to assuage my boredom. those two weeks were like a little pill that made me able to tolerate the rest of the winter. now i realize i don’t ever really want to live in a place that has winter, so a cure is in order. i am always talking about how i am going to do this or that- in that past few years i’ve had plans to move to chicago, to move to germany, to move to austin. that last one though, i meant it.
january 2010 was the month i watched my beloved dog of almost seventeen years die, on a metal table lined with a fleece blanket, where many other dogs had probably also taken their last breaths. i felt him die. i always insisted that i would not be there when he was put down, but in the instant that i had to choose, i rode in the backseat of the car and carried him into the vet’s office, holding back my sobbing as the woman at the desk asked, with a sympathetic face, ‘ozzie?’
my mom said to him, ‘well ozzie, they won’t have to weigh you this time, so it won’t be embarrassing.’
‘embarrassing for us, or for him?’ i replied.
we took him into the room and the vet talked to us for a few moments, he seemed so kind and gentle that it was sort of comforting, even though he was the one that would plunge a needle full of barbiturates into ozzie’s front arm that would stop his heart. they took ozzie away, to give him a catheter with sedatives. they brought him back moments later, he was panting and not at all sedated. his two front legs were bandaged, they had to stick him twice because they couldn’t find a vein the first time. then, my parents and i all gathered around him, all holding onto him, while the doctor tried to give him the shot- and ozzie, ever stubborn, charmingly obstinate until the end- yanked his paw away and yelped, one last time. the other vet tech came in and helped hold him still, and it is true what they say, it is fast. he died so quickly and stiffened up and peed all over the blanket. his eyes did not close, he did not collapse- the doctor gently laid him down and closed his eyelids and left the room to let us say goodbye. my mother wailed, ‘i will never have another dog again- ever. EVER. EVER.’ ozzie’s eyes kept popping open, in moments he had gone from an animal who had absolutely dominated our lives for so long, to a corpse, dead on the table. the room suddenly felt like a black hole, and i had to get out. i came home, and everywhere i looked there was evidence of him. so i left, and went to the city instead where i could concentrate on driving and the cold air freezing my fingers. i got an unwarranted parking ticket and ate a sandwich with serrano ham and manchego that i didn’t even taste, i went to whole foods and bought three bunches of lilies that eventually bloomed so large that their scent was the first thing i smelled when i walked into the house. i came home to an empty house, my first urge was to begin bawling but i didn’t, i opened up my cookbook and started to make dinner. i didn’t cry. i suppressed the grief for days, i had moments where i would begin to weep, and then quickly whip myself back into shape- i just wanted life to go on as normal again. i tried so hard, i knew for so long that his end was near, i thought that when it happened i would be prepared. i thought that my grief would be brief, but it is january too and by the end of the week my neck hurt so badly from the tension built up from holding it all in. but it came out, the proverbial floodgates opened, on a suburban street- i got in my car and started to wail so hysterically loud, and i couldn’t stop it. it was nighttime, thankfully no one could see me, i had to call my sister while i had a panic attack. ever the level-headed of us two, she calmly listened to me rant and eventually i was composed enough to drive myself home, while i talked to emily until my phone battery died. i guess i didn’t realize, life can’t go on as normal, because he was such a fundamental part of my normality, and i didn’t want to admit to myself how much life would change without him- how hard it would be to walk through the door and not see his little head whip around to see who it was, and then lay it back down to the pillow, indifferently (well, that was how he greeted me, anyway- he was always far more enthusiastic for my mother). even though i left him the most, to go away to college and brief stint living in chicago, as well as numerous vacations over the years- he was always there, and his absence is felt so strongly, it’s painful. it breaks my heart that i can still feel the contour underneath his chin, how silky his ears were, his short little legs and fat paws at the end.
the next morning, i applied for culinary school. in austin. so i guess that is happening. in april. there are a lot of logistical and financial matters that need to be figured out, but i am finally optimistic about life. i feel fucking ready. i had been saying that i was going to move after the summer, but there is no time like the present. or two months from now. i fell in love with texas in the summer, the thought of living there is so exciting that it keeps me up at night, giddy, thinking about how i am going to live in a little house and plant a garden in the back and yes, eventually, get a new little dog. in a way i am heartened by ozzie’s death, because it has finally galvanized me to make real changes in my life that i couldn’t before.
rest in peace, my favorite. you’ve meant more to me than anything else so far.
loss is always sad, but ultimately this is a very exciting story!