Today I was giving the van a good cleaning for the first time in much too long when I pulled a rawhide dog chew out from way back under the seat. The flood of emotion that came with it caught me off guard.
Shyann was not the first dog I ever had and hopefully she won’t be the last, but she will likely have been the sweetest. She wasn’t the most useful, and surely not the smartest. But never have I known a dog that was as thankful for life and just happy to be.
She was a mixed breed of mostly Cocker Spaniel adopted from the tenuous existence of a rescue shelter. Her background was not documented well and her age was uncertain though she appeared to be middle aged, about 5 or 6. She had whelped at some point. She had tape worms and exhibited several behavior problems, most notably it was evident that food had been a scarce commodity in her life. She was not vicious about it, I could take food away from her without fear of being bitten, but she had obviously experienced famine on many occasions. She would gulp food until it was gone. I learned quickly that it had to be doled out in measured amounts. Otherwise she would eat until she could eat no more, throw up, then try to eat it all again.
I also had to teach Shyann to bark again. At some point in her life she apparently had been punished for barking. I wasn’t sure she even had the capability for the first few weeks, but with the prompting of treats and example, she did regain her voice. Never to a fault, she was quieter than most dogs, but she did eventually stop being afraid and learn when it was appropriate to bark.
Shyann came to me at a time in life when I needed companionship like never before. A nasty divorce had ripped home and family. We had both been tossed away. She was my sole companion and I hers for most of the time. The first couple of years we were together, I worked from home and Shyann and I were together 24 hours a day. When I had to travel for work again for the following few years, we traveled together, she usually waited eagerly in a motel room for my return from whatever job I was doing at the time.
I always tried to leave some treat or fresh rawhide or something she liked that would at least keep her occupied for a while. Sometimes that was an apple, she loved apples. Often I would break a jerky treat into small pieces and hide them all over the room. She would nearly always find them although her eyes began to fail seriously leaving her dangerously blind, by following her nose. And I would always leave the TV on some channel that would provide something more than the scary silence. My choices in motels was centered around her of course. I could have stayed in semi-high class places, except for her. But I was determined that I was not going to abandon her, so I willingly made that choice. And in return she gave love and companionship. She was always glad to see me and always wanted to be near me.
I went on a selfish vacation for a week once where there was no way she could go. Carefully choosing a kennel seemed the only choice. There was no way to explain to her that I would be back. I thought I had made the best choice possible, but, her stay must have been 7 days of emotional hell for her. She was not the same dog for many weeks after that. The kennels constant barking, little or no human contact, not going potty the same way, the feeling of abandonment, all added up. I vowed to never do that again. She never met a human she didn’t like, but other dogs she didn’t much care for.
There were so few times she ever did anything you would call wrong. She never chewed on stuff she wasn’t supposed to. There were a few times when she had an accident while I was gone but those were rare. And she was never punished for that, I know if she could have held it, she would have. We just took care of it and went on. She was not allowed on the bed or couch, she had her own love seat at home, and that was respected most of the time. I would return from some errand and catch her on the couch sometimes and a stern word was enough. She understood, and I understood. A roll of cherry lifesavers left on the coffee table one time was just too tempting for her to resist, that was about the worst thing she ever did. I didn’t even scold her for that, no need, it was my fault and her actions were normal.
When her health started failing, I did all I could to make her comfortable. She was just old and worn out. Nothing the vet could do. Her weight kept dropping in spite of diet changes. When she got to where she couldn’t make it up the single step to get back into the house from going potty, I was always there waiting to help. When she got too weak to get up and would not eat the tastiest spoon fed broth, I did the only humane thing I could do. It is an inevitable event in any lucky dog’s life, but I cried like she was my child. I was so fully responsible for her health and welfare that I couldn’t help feeling guilty that she hadn’t lived longer and happier. She depended on me for everything, maybe I could have done something more, or better. I have been assured by those that knew us both, that she had a good life and I have nothing to feel guilty about, but the feeling is not so easily shed. I had threatened to have her made into a rug when she passed because she just wanted to be under my feet all the time anyway. Of course when it came down to it, it was just an idle threat. She deserves to rest peacefully. She served me well, and long enough.
I don’t like and I don’t use the term “dog owner”. I was responsible for Shyann, she was my ward, I had custody, but I feel it is not possible for one animal to own another. She had rights too. If you feel the need for a dog, don’t do it without full knowledge of what your responsibilities are, and please, consider saving the life of a dog that has no future without you.
Shyann has been gone since March 2006, but her memory will live at least as long as I do. Thank you, Shyann. I miss you.
(I apologize if this article seems lame or boring, but, Shyann never got an obituary. There was no service. Friends didn’t gather and talk about the good times. It was just me, alone, grieving. And she deserved more. She was a very good dog and I still miss her. Thank you for your indulgence.)
