Saying Goodbye to Dixie
My family said goodbye to our beloved dog this weekend. At 15, Dixie had been part of our pack for well over a decade. She was my daughters’ first dog, who they ecstatically adopted from the OHS in grade school. Dixie was some kind of Shih Tzu crossed with something bigger and scruffier, and she saw the girls through tough days at high school and kept them company during COVID years. I hugged her tight when the kids left for post-secondary. I think they came home on weekends more to see her than their parents.
Over the past few years, Dixie started slowing down. We added a stroller to our fleet so she could still enjoy outings. For the last couple of years, she couldn’t be home alone for any great length — thank goodness for Grampa daycare and our loving local pet sitter. None of us minded picking up the messes when she started having more accidents, nor the nighttime waking when she wandered, nor her drug regimen that required careful daily planning to make sure she got her meds on time.
You’d think, working at an animal shelter for more than 20 years, I’d know when it was time. But being so close and not wanting to face reality, it hurt too much to see it. Fortunately, Dixie had a great veterinarian who we consulted more frequently as age took its toll. And at our last visit, when I asked what she thought, the vet’s gentle response was that any time would be OK, maybe sooner rather than later. That we’d given her a great life, and that things just weren’t going to go in a different direction. Our veterinarian’s support and objectivity were what I needed. My family cried, and we spent the next few days with our pup, loving her, talking to her and memorizing every detail of her precious little body. And then we booked that last appointment.
Anybody who loses a pet knows what a horrible experience it is. Carrying the weight of a decision that no one wants to make. We’re still bereft, there’s a hole that we’ll never fill. It will be a while before we’re ready to take comfort in her memories.
But I am also grateful. We never worried about having enough food for Dixie, and when she needed extra care, it was never a question. And for that most terrible part of having a pet – the saying goodbye — we were able to make sure the time was right. She wasn’t anxious, she was surrounded by love, and — amid our tears — there was peace.
The Ottawa Humane Society’s Compassion Campaign, to build a new Community Veterinary Clinic for pet owners in need, is in my heart. With this clinic, no animal will have to experience pain or anxiety in their last days because an owner is facing a barrier to care. I am supporting this campaign in Dixie’s honour.
In honour of your pets — those with you today, or those who you have loved and parted with in the past, I urge you to support this campaign, too.
And if you visit our new site when we realize our vision, maybe you’ll sit on the bench that my family and I have dedicated to Dixie’s memory. She will forever be in our hearts.
Sharon Miko
President & CEO