Levi

I've resisted writing this since March 19, when I had to have my 14 year old rat terrier, Levi, put to sleep. Lots of times I skip the poignant, "My old dog died," stories in memoirs or essays. They're too painful. Now, here I am, writing one of my own.

Levi was 6 weeks old when I got him. I had to pass a rigid inspection before his owner let me take him. She was the receptionist at our vet's office and I knew she'd be watching me. Headstrong and energetic, I was no match for him. I was under his control in nothing flat and it didn't change for 14 years. I belonged to him, not the other way around.

When I sat, Levi sat on me. When I crocheted he would be on my lap, burrowed under whatever I was making. We slept curled up together, Levi under the covers. I don't know how he kept from suffocating sometimes.

A doggie door in the Benton house and a fenced yard gave Levi the freedom to come and go at his own pace. We didn't have to do the leash thing or let him in or out. It was easy. Then we moved to the lake and I became his virtual slave. He actually adjusted quite well to condo living. His advanced age gave us the advantage. He wasn't too interested in exploration and didn't fight his leash. We walked miles and miles around our complex several times a day and he became the doggie darling of our neighbors. But dog walking is very time consuming and I had to factor in that time when I had to be somewhere. I couldn't leave him alone too long or he'd set up a howl that was annoying and embarrassing. We live on top of one another over here and a yapping dog can drive sane people to violence.

So, I couldn't leave him here alone when I went to work. Every morning I drove Levi to Benton and dropped him off at Mom and Dad's. Then, every afternoon I stopped by and picked him up. Yeah, it was doggy daycare with Mawmaw and Pawpaw. Thank goodness they could do it because I don't know how we'd have managed otherwise.

I quit working in July and that helped. I made sure I wasn't gone too long at a time and he slept more hours than he was awake. His health steadily declined until he wasn't even Levi anymore but we agreed that as long as he wasn't in obvious pain we'd let nature take its course.

Sunday, March 18, was D-day. We don't know what really happened but it was terrible and we knew it was over. Being Sunday made things a bit more complicated. Our vet's office was closed and I really wanted her to take care of him. He'd never seen another doctor and I couldn't let a stranger do something this important. I called my niece, a vet in North Carolina, for advice. She told me I could give him a little of my pain medicine to make him more comfortable and get us through the rest of the day and night. She assured me that putting him to sleep was my only alternative if he didn't die in the night. Monday morning Levi made his last trip to Benton. It was a long ride home without him but I took comfort in the fact that he'd had a very good run.

I miss him like crazy.