Farewell, sweet friend.

When I first adopted Foxie Doxie, he had a big ol’ bald spot on his side.

He’d gotten burned by some fresh asphalt, and the vet said my hyper doxie would probably never grow hair there.

Well, clearly, the vet was full of shit, because Foxie totally grew lush side-body hair. He was the dachshund equivalent of Farrah Fawcett. He did things his own way, thank you.

That was 12 years ago, and Foxie has been full of piss and vinegar every since. You lookin’ for somebody to trap a possum, at night, in the pouring rain? Foxie’s your man. You wondering just who would pee on wedding invitations?

Well, Foxie was a tiny bit ashamed about that one, but evidently, it had to be done – even if it meant wearing The Overalls of Shame afterwards.

So, 12 years and one week after I first met my little guy with the bald spot on his side, he got the same hairdo again. He got shaved for an ultrasound, as we hadn’t been able to shake his raging UTI.

Never in my wildest, most hypochondriacal dreams did I think that Foxie Doxie’s little tinklepotty problems were actually prostate cancer.

But they were. And that bidness is bad, bad news in dogs.

Our options were basically “ship him off to Colorado for treatment that will scar him emotionally and fry all his internal organs” or … let him go.

We found out Friday. By Saturday, it was obvious that he was miserable and wasn’t going to get any less miserable. My Guy and I decided that keeping him around would be wholly selfish on our parts.

Foxie cuddled with Lil’ Frankfurter, and then enjoyed some sunshine.

I wrapped my boy up in a blanket and we went to the vet.
He died in my arms.

I can’t stop crying.

So, here’s the thing: Foxie Doxie was the longest non-family relationship of my adult life. He knew stuff. We went through a lot together. And while he didn’t say much, he knew.

And he was a total jackass. This is a kid who peed in my bed more than once, just because. He had such social anxiety that he would lose his mind if another dog even deigned to walk down our street. He felt it was his duty to mark every piece of furniture in my house – and my parents’ house. He took this duty very seriously.

And yet. He had the softest ears on the planet. When I held him, he would tuck his head under my chin and snorgle loudly. He was my boy, and I was his mama.

My heart is broken.

And yet. When the vet tech asked for a phone number to call when the ashes were ready, I told My Guy to give her my number. He was upset, and the phone number he rattled off had about 17 digits and wasn’t even close to my number. Like, the area code wasn’t even right. I was holding our dying dog, and I started laughing like a hyena. I looked at the tech, who was mortified. “That’s so not my number,” I said. “We’ve been married 3 and a half years, and that’s not even remotely my number!”

So, at least there was laughter through the tears in Foxie Doxie’s last moments.

Later, dear, kind, generous friends wordlessly showed up on our porch with our favorite, completely complicated pizza order, a 6-pack, 2 bottles of wine, and 2 gigantic mums. As my sweet husband told me, “I don’t even know what to say. Except that this feels good after a few really shitty days. I don’t even know what to say.”

Lil’ Frankfurter and Big Doodle are sticking to us like glue, as they know we need each other more than ever. Our little pack is reeling, but we’re doing it together.

We’re heartbroken. But blessed.

We love you, Foxie.

Enjoy marking the pearly gates.

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  • Reply sherilee September 14, 2014 at 9:15 pm

    So sorry for your loss. Losing the furry friends is so hard. Hugs.

  • Reply Cassi Renee September 14, 2014 at 9:52 pm

    I'm so sorry! I'm glad you have family, human and furry, to love you through it.

  • Reply Kelley September 14, 2014 at 10:27 pm

    Much love to you and your little family right now. May you find comfort and even a few more laughs in the memories you have of Foxie Doxie. Sounds like he had a pretty amazing, territory-marking filled life, thanks to you and Your Guy.

  • Reply nestra September 14, 2014 at 10:32 pm

    I'm so sorry for your loss. Your stories about Foxie Doxie have made me laugh out load more than once. It is amazing the shenanigans we will put up with when the perpetrator is little and furry.

  • Reply smalltownme September 14, 2014 at 10:42 pm

    I am so sorry.

  • Reply Carolyn Watson September 15, 2014 at 12:05 am

    I'm so sorry for what you are going through, but I appreciate you sharing it. I cry right along with you. Enjoy your memories.

  • Reply Karen (formerly kcinnova) September 15, 2014 at 12:51 am

    ChaCha, I am so sorry. Pets are our babies and our best friends, our father confessors and the ones we swear at when they pee in the house. And we love them. Hugs to you, plus wine and complicated pizza orders.

    We just adopted a 10yo labrador retriever who needed a new home. He's already wriggled his big heart into my own flawed one, and I am already dreading the day we say goodbye to this sweet boy. (The cat, not so much… she's not happy about him at all.) All this to say that in my own miniscule way, I have a glimpse of what you are going through right now. {{hugs}}

  • Reply Holly @ Everydays a Hollyday September 15, 2014 at 1:02 am

    I'm so sorry for your loss.

  • Reply Trixie Bang Bang September 15, 2014 at 3:02 am

    That is super sad – so sorry to read this. I've been there far too many times myself. Pets are the best things, and unfortunately we have to say goodbye to them far too soon.

  • Reply Ilyanna Kreske September 15, 2014 at 3:29 am

    so sorry. many, many, many hugs

  • Reply Becky September 15, 2014 at 12:31 pm

    Lots of hugs. So sorry.

  • Reply Average Jane September 15, 2014 at 2:47 pm

    I'm so sad for you.

  • Reply Laura September 15, 2014 at 3:42 pm

    ChaCha, I am so sorry for your loss. I have always enjoyed a good Foxy tale, and I completely understand the dog with a few asshat habits to go along with all their wonderful ones. Hugs.

  • Reply Banjo Unfabulousness September 15, 2014 at 5:42 pm

    Sending hugs and all the comfort that I can fit in this comment box.

  • Reply Green Girl in Wisconsin September 15, 2014 at 11:56 pm

    Oh, honey. I am so so sorry. I know how much you loved this dog, just the ENDURANCE and PATIENCE you showed Foxie Doxie spoke it daily. He was your special little buddy.
    This tribute has me choked up.
    I just know there's a special marked-up spot in heaven RIGHT NOW.

  • Reply Violet September 16, 2014 at 2:26 am

    This sucks in the biggest, ugliest way, ChaCha. I also lost a very special dog to a short, brutal illness. I, too, am a childless person and I understand the extra…hmmm, I don't know the right word…something our pets bring us – and allow us to give them.

    Saying goodbye to beloved pets is one of the worst things we humans have to do. Big hugs to you, friend.

  • Reply Dorrie September 19, 2014 at 1:55 am

    My heart breaks for you and your family. I am so sorry for your loss. I have greatly enjoyed your Foxie Doxie stories over the years. There was obviously a lot of love there and I hope the love helps carry you through the stages of grief.

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