Stanley's Story Part 2

It’s crazy to me because the years from when I first met my husband and Stanley and when we started our little doggie family flew by. We went on all of these adventures together and I never even thought that any of us would slow down. Then we had Emma. There were a few months that went by that I don’t remember due to lack of sleep and trying to figure out my new life as a human mom (very different from being a dog mom). I feel bad I was not more attentive during those times but Stanley and the other dogs were very understanding. I was worried that the dogs would not take to Emma. I remember bringing her home and letting each of them smell her blanket and then her and they were like um ok...this thing is odd....now where is dinner? Human mama bear instinct kicked in pretty hard and I was very careful about them being around her. But then, something happened, they were all very sweet to Emma, even Stanley. He would not budge if she pulled his tail or tried to sit on him or anything. It was amazing and wonderful and I loved seeing it. In those moments, Stanley taught Emma how to love a dog and how a dog can love you and I will forever be grateful to him for that.

As time passed after Emma came, we were all enjoying each other’s company so much that I didn’t notice that Stanley was beginning to slow down. He started walking with a limp and he wasn’t holding his head as high as he used to. Then in the summer of 2013, we found out Stanley had hip dysplasia and also had a torn ACL (yup, like people get). He would need surgery to repair the tear or else he would not be able to walk after a while. Without hesitation, we got the surgery and thus gave rise to good old peg leg Stanley. He had a cast but was still as active as ever. It was funny to see such a strong, independent creature with an invasive cast on. Once he got the cast off, he had a quick recovery and was back to normal in no time. After that, I saw the young Stanley again for a brief period of time. He could run and bark and case things to his heart’s content. Then everything was good for a long time.

And that’s the thing, time keeps ticking away even if you do not notice it. Once again, I got sucked into everyday life and we once again settled into a routine of feeding, washing, and walking the dogs. I was living the good life and then came the day that people I guess refer to the beginning of the end. I never pictured Stanley getting old because frankly, he had never been old and I had never had to live through a dog I loved getting old (my dog growing up grew old and passed away after I had moved out of the house.) It wasn’t even on my radar. I did begin to write about what happened at the time but I never got around to publishing it on here but around October/ November of 2015, Thomas and I were in Emma’s room tucking her in at night when we heard a crash in the living room. I asked Thomas to go see what it was and he yelled for me to come. I ran out of her bedroom, forgetting Emma was still awake and rounded the corner into the living room. Stanley was laying on the floor, having a seizure. I’d never seen a dog have a seizure before and only have seen a human have one once. It was pretty shocking to see. I’ve never seen my husband move so fast in his life. He grabbed a towel and wrapped Stanley up. At this point, Emma had walked into the living room and knew something was wrong. I hated that she had to see anything but I calmly told her Stanley was sick and daddy was taking him to the doctor. She seemed ok with that.

Thomas was out the door and in his car in what seemed like 10 seconds. X-rays and tests were inconclusive. It looked like he might have a growth but they needed thousands of dollars to do more tests that would lead to a surgery that would be thousands more. I of course wanted to just do whatever it took but Thomas was a bit more sensible about it. Stanley still seemed to be in pretty good health so we got some medication and brought him home. It really seemed like an isolated incident. In the months to come, I saw Stanley run and play and enjoy life. Things were going so well, that I almost forgot he had a seizure. 

Then on Superbowl Sunday, Leon came over. Yes, the original Leon from the beginning of this post. Stanley was so excited to see him, he got up and ran over to him and ended up having an accident and collapsing on the floor. He could not get up. Suddenly the horrors from months before came flooding back. I of course was in denial. I’d seen this magnificent, strong creature do so many physical things that I couldn’t fathom his body was breaking down. He was the great and powerful Stanley, our protector, the dog people backed away from on the sidewalk if they didn’t know him. He was always supposed to be this solid shield of armor, at least that is how I always pictured him. So it was very difficult for me to open my eyes to the fact that lately, he slept more often than not. He would sometimes not have the strength to make it outside to go to the bathroom, that he would sometimes not want to eat. It was really difficult for me. 

Thomas ended up taking Stanley to the vet the next day. The vet told us that Stanley had a growth in his stomach that they could not see before and that it was going to rupture any day. She said he was an older dog and even if they performed surgery, he might not make it and if he did he would only live a few more months after that. We were of course devastated. Again I wanted to give the surgery a try but ultimately, Thomas brought Stanley home that night and we decided to spend one final night with him as a family. We did not want him to be in pain any more. 

I try now to think back on things like how it was an odd and sort of funny sight seeing him run sometimes because his head and torso were rather largely disproportionate to his hips and back legs. When he got to running fast enough with his tail wagging I would sometimes worry that he would tip over onto his face. We were never fully sure what breeds Stanley was made up of, certainly boxer and some sort of mastiff and possibly some pit bull as well. It’s hard that he looked like so many breeds because when I see any of those breeds now I think of him. I always think about how people would come up to me and ask me about my family. I would respond with pride that I had four dogs. “Four dogs! That’s excessive!” That was always the response and I always loved it.

They say when you sit down to write something profound that you want people to connect with and understand to do your best to describe how you felt in rich and vivid detail. As I sat down to type this post, I found it very difficult to interpret my emotions into anything anyone can identify with.

It’s like your life is forcibly moving on without this important piece when you absolutely never wanted to go anywhere without it. It’s been so bad that I have no idea how I will get through this another 3 times. It's like your mind keeps racing around, hurrying to find a solution, going back and forth, stretching out any possibility to the brink only to come back to the same starting point, there is no solution. There is nothing you can do. It’s like my soul, the very fiber of my being, is being ripped in half. All I want to do is scream out for him not to go. It’s like you’re on this life journey and you find your soul mates, the lives you feel comfortable braving the world with and you know it can't last forever but you never think the end would ever really come. In short and simple terms, I feel incomplete.

I suppose I shouldn’t make this memorial just about the pain because everyone, including Stanley, had enough of that. I want to remember all the good times I had with such an amazing creature. Of course my child in all of her wisdom and quiet confidence comes up with the most brilliant and wonderful thought of all. She looked over to my husband and said “the angel girls in heaven are going to heal him.” She still mentions him from time to time. And I am glad for it. We are all learning how to grieve together. We are all trying to navigate the same emotional path and I'm glad I have these people by my side to find the way.

One thing above all else I am certain, I was honored to have shared the same time and space as his soul on this Earth.