My Dog, Duchess
One thing I've developed over the past several years is a stronger sense of loyalty and commitment to my family. I've always been loyal to an extent, but after the loss of a few family members, you realize how important and precious family is. Even down to the family dog.

Duchess is our fifteen year old Boston Terrier. She's been a member of our family for all of her fifteen years, currently living with my parents out of state. Over the past few days, she became very ill and we've learned that she has cancer. The vet gave her a few days to a few weeks to still be with us. So, this weekend I am flying to be with my parents and my dog. We'll likely put her down this weekend, to avoid any unnecessary suffering for her.

Now, to those of you who don't understand the bond between a family and a dog, it may seem silly to you that I am hopping on a short-notice flight to rush to be at her side, as though she is an actual human family member on her deathbed. I've never been one of those gushy, over-the-top dog people that treats my pet as a person. But Duchess is without a doubt a major part of our family, and I have always been attached to all of our family dogs. So I'm going to spend some last moments with my dog, and to be there to support my parents.

It's funny the things that happen in our adult life that take us right back to childhood, and the role of being the kid. I've been on the phone with my parents the past few days, seeking updates on Duchess' condition and trying to figure out what I need to do. It's tough sometimes that they live so far away. It's made me feel like a kid again, not wanting to let go of my beloved pet, but having to listen to their advice on what we need to do.

We've had lots of family dogs throughout the years. I can't remember any that we've had to put to sleep, and none that we've had as long as Duchess. Several dogs we've had to give away over the years, because we've moved or the dog just wasn't a good fit for the family. But Duchess has been around so long that it's hard to remember life without her.

I remember when she first arrived. I was twelve years old. We lived in Colorado at the time, and my dad had gone to Louisiana to visit his mom, around the time of his birthday. When my mom, my sister and I went to the airport to pick him up, he was acting very mysteriously. He picked up his checked bags, but mentioned he needed to pick up something special from the Special Packages counter. When he came back, he had a dog carrier. Inside the carrier was a shoe box with the tiniest black and white puppy I'd ever seen. This was Duchess, barely a few weeks old. She was an unexpected birthday present from his family.

I later learned that if he had kept quiet about having the puppy, my dad could have snuck her onto the plane with him. But he had been honest and bought her a ticket and a carrier and set her up to fly with the other animals in cargo. She was so tiny, he was worried she wouldn't make the flight in the dog carrier underneath the plane. But this was our first indication that Duchess was a wonder dog. She made it in perfect health.

We took her home and introduced her to our other dog, Pam, the mutt, affectionately named by me in honor of my mom's best friend. I was a kid, for some reason that name seemed appropriate. Over the next few weeks, my mom had to take special care of Duchess, since she was such a young, tiny puppy. Mom carefully fed Duchess first by letting her lick puppy formula off of her fingers, then graduating to a toy baby doll bottle. Pretty soon she was eating normally, and thoroughly bossing around poor Pam, a much larger, yet kind and gentle dog we'd had for a few years. The two of them got along famously.

Over the years and through many moves, Duchess and Pam came along as part of the family. Eventually we had to give Pam away, due to some health issues she developed. So we were left with Duchess, the faithful family dog. She was the friend we always had, the constant, no matter where we moved or what situations went on around us. People came and went, but the dog was always there. Happy and funny and quirky, oblivious to whatever ups and downs we went through as a family.

Duchess has had a few health scares and bouts of weirdness in her lifetime. I remember one phase where she would just sit and stare at the wall. We called it her Coma. We could never figure it out, and eventually she stopped doing it. But nothing would interfere with her staring. Calling her, touching her, trying to move her. Then she would snap out of it as though it never happened. The vet never figured it out, and it eventually went away. But for awhile, we thought she was a goner.

She also has some back problems. This lead to a series of medications and spine injections, putting her into the category of Robo-Dog. There is such a thing as going too far with medical treatments for pets, but every once in awhile Duchess would just seem to need a bit of a tune-up somewhere. We'd take her in, get her fixed up, and she'd bounce back. Robo-Dog just keeps on ticking.

It's really true that pets cheer you up. And if you don't believe it's therapeutic to pet a dog, then you haven't given it a good try. When my sister died, Duchess didn't have a clue what was really going on. But even when people are afraid to talk to you during a tragedy, or when they don't know what to do, a dog will always treat you with the same affection as before. They don't care if your world has fallen apart, or if you aren't the same as you were before. They love you anyway. I can remember sitting on the floor or couch, crying, and here comes Duchess to check me out. She and I spent many hours together, she just letting me pet her, me not having to talk about anything. It was hugely healing.

When my parents moved out of state again a few months after my sister's death, I was as sad to see Duchess go as I was to see them go. They've been away now for a few years, and I miss the dog as much as I miss my parents sometimes. When they moved, Duchess was first starting to really show signs of age. She started having trouble walking and her eyes were starting to go. But something about the Colorado air must have rejeuvinated her spirit, or maybe she stumbled onto the fountain of doggie youth, because after awhile in her new mountain home, she perked up and acted younger than she had in years. She had a spring in her step again, and seemed not to notice that she couldn't see or get around as well. Her legs and back didn't slow her down. Robo-dog was stronger than ever.

The last time I saw her was this past Christmas. She was in great shape. Every year for the past few years when I've gone to visit, I've left wondering if she'd still be there the next time I made it out for a visit. I wondered that this year, knowing she is now fifteen years old, a ripe old age for a dog. When I left, she was chipper and perky and seemed in as good of health as ever before. I told my friend I'd see her next time.

My parents came to visit a week or so ago, to spend a week or so with me and my new house. They discussed bringing Duchess with them, for a nice long visit. But we decided the travel and the Texas heat might be too much for an old dog, and we didn't want to take any chances, as fun as it would be to have her around. They boarded her at her vet's office, where they just absolutely love her and give her the royal treatment during every stay. She gets a top spot in the 'old lady dog' section of the boarding hall, and the staff there takes very good care of her. My mom reported to me that when they went to pick her up the following week, she ran around the house and played with her toys, hyper and vibrant as ever, glad to be back home with my parents.

About a week later, over this past weekend, it was a surprise that Duchess woke up one morning very, very sick. She'd been fine the night before, but this day was a different story. My parents took her in to the vet hospital, and after a few days of testing and monitoring and hooking her up to an IV, they discovered that she has cancer. She'll be with us maybe a few more days, possibly a week or two.

So, now I wait by the phone for more news, and hope my tentative plans to wait til the weekend to head out there will allow me to see her again, and be there with her when we decide to put her down. When she leaves, another part of my life and my past leaves with her. With Duchess comes memories of my sister and our times together with our dog, as well as remembering Duchess' comfort to me during the loss of my sister. Duchess has been the constant through a lot of change for many years.

I've discovered that I hate letting go of things I love. And I think dogs should last as long as people do.

C.T.