My dearest little Annie, a year ago tonight - you suffered a horrible death. If only I could turn back time. Your Daddy was devastated, I now understand the stages of grief in a way I never have before Mae Mae, my Shawnee - Daddy's girl.
Annie, Daddy is going to sound very selfish for admitting this but I have never loved a human being - as much as I loved and still love you. I find we humans are very selfish as a bunch, you little one just wanted to be loved. You were my best friend, my joy. This past year, I think Daddy spent a good part of it in shock - your death was so unexpected - an accident but in the end, I think it was malpractice.
Sweetheart, Daddy gave you a bone to celebrate Spike's 2nd birthday - and it splintered - you had a bloody mouth - that didn't register with me - at 3:11am - the motion detector in the living room went off, I thought someone had broken in - I found vomit - in two places - and there you were, looking very afraid laying on your favorite chair. Something snapped in my brain and I knew you were VERY sick. I called the ER vet immediately, got dressed and you were in the clinic in Annapolis by 4:00am. Before we got out of the car, I looked at you and you looked at me and Annie, I think we both knew that our story together was ending. I said to you, "should we do this?" You just looked at me with all of the trust and innocence in your little heart - and in we went.
Annie, you walked in on your own, you were strong.. such a good girl walking with Daddy as we had thousands of times before. I had to sign a million forms and releases (my mistake) and off we go to an exam room - 4:11am we were in an exam room. One hour from waking up to the sensors going off. The doctor came in, I explained what happened - she took you back - x-rayed you and brought you back to me, I should have walked out then and waited for Dr. Ruth to be free, your vet not these strangers that didn't care, you were a number to them.
"Yes, Mr. Wagner - if you look at the x-rays you can see two major blockages, don't worry 98% of dogs pass blockages like this - we would like to keep her here for observation," again, my mistake Annie - I'm so sorry I left you there. I put you in the little kennel, petted you and shut the door. My baby - that's the last time I saw you conscious. You were so peaceful and resigned when you saw that door close. You were in the middle of the bottom row, I think they forgot about you there, I'm sure they did. Also, I never thought of the year you spent in the rescue kennel - I only hope you didn't think Daddy was abandoning you to a life in a kennel. I know that year was a horror for you - I would never do that to you Fuzzy. I will never forget that young vet looking at me - standing there smiling kindly and saying, "She's in good hands, we'll take good care of her."
I called at noon Annie, you were doing fine - you had urinated, pooped and you were walking around on your own. That young vet was confident for a full recovery. So what happened? Phone call at 4pm, "Mr. Wagner, she's taken a turn for the worse......" I knew then Annie, it was over. I asked if you could have surgery to take the blockages out, I rambled on.. " The young vet responded - and yes, this is the same one that assured me that you were in good hand I'll pay anything - I don't care what it costs just PLEASE save her life...". " Well uh Mr. Wagner, I can't operate today - I'm leaving work early.. I have plans." I don't know what happened to my brain Annie, but something snapped in my head - I said very calmly, "there has got to be someone there to operate on her," he said, "she wouldn't survive surgery at this point, Mr. Wagner." I asked if I could come and see you. He said yes. I thought me being there would lift your spirits - I didn't realize that they had you "sedated" and on oxygen with a saline IV pumping fluid into you. I asked him if they had give you anything for pain, he said "no, why would I do that?" I said something about intestinal blockages must be painful, he said he would give you something... what???
Before they let me in to see you, a vet came out to speak to me in the waiting room. Very calm, older - "Mr. Wagner, I need to prepare you - there's a good chance Annie won't make it through the night." Annie, Daddy has never felt so helpless - I asked what happened to the good prognosis.. she said, and I will never forget this.. "well, if we had given her fluids earlier, then maybe..." of course she was referring to while the young vet was in charge - again, my despair deepened as I this nightmare was becoming more real, more horrible - more sad - my own Greek tragedy in three acts. Annie, Daddy walked into where they had you - Peanut, you looked terrible - you had tubes, an IV, a heart monitor - and you looked so alone. I asked if I could take your picture, I knew it was the last picture that I would take of you alive. All because I had given you a bone for a treat to celebrate Spike's second birthday - unreal.
Time froze for Daddy, Annie. I can't even explain it, I was numb. Daddy doesn't pray anymore, Annie - I did that minute - for the first time in years, I knew you were going to die - at that point, I was resigned to it - your Daddy, the king of fighting hardship, injustice, the system, adversity - gave up - I knew we had lost the battle Annie, I think if I could turn back time - when I looked at you that last time in the parking lot, should have left - I remember thinking, every animal I had taken there had died - I thought you were going to be the exception - I am so sorry Annie. So - yes, Daddy prayed. I prayed that you weren't aware of what was happening and that you weren't in pain and that you knew that I was there and loved you. I left, I leaned into the kennel, kissed you, told you that I loved you with all of my big heart and left, numb.
I was home by seven pm, I'm not even sure what happened - I remember thinking that I hadn't eaten all day and should make some food, I did - not sure what and I made a drink, a very strong drink. I sat on the couch and started to eat my food, it was 923pm, Annie - out of no where, it was like a faucet was turned on and blood poured from my nose - I have never had a nose bleed - I remember thinking - "something has happened to Annie...". I went into the kitchen, got the nose bleed to stop, I look outside and there are huge snowflakes falling - out of no where - huge snow flakes - I knew then, something had happened and this was the end. I remember saying to myself that you were making all of this happen.. the nosebleed, the snow and thinking - "no, no, this is not how our story is supposed to end...."
Then, the cell phone rang, the ER vet was calling - it was the older vet, the calm one. In her calm voice - it was 936pm, Annie - she said to me, "Mr. Wagner, at 923, Annie had a cardiac arrest and is now breathing with assistance, I can bring her back if you want but honestly Mr. Wagner, that will only postpone the inevitable, I have seen this happen before....she's dying Mr. Wagner." Your Daddy very calmly said, "what are the options?" She told me that they could take you off the respirator and let you die or they could keep you alive until I got there. "Please, please keep her alive until I get there, the snow is falling hard, I will get here as fast as I can though." I hung up and screamed Annie. Daddy screamed so loud, I remember screaming "NO! NO! NO! This is not the way our story ends, Annie!!"
I think I terrified Spike and Sparky - my boys. They had known something was wrong, I knew they knew just by my behavior through out the day. Little one, the drive to Annapolis was like an out of body experience, truly - that storm had been unpredicted and the roads were in terrible shape, it took me an hour to get to Annapolis - a 10 minute drive at 10:00pm on a week night. On the way out to the car, I took a video of the snow falling in panorama and I remember saying, "life will never be the same again..." It was a Tuesday, March 6th. I pulled up, went to the desk - explained who I was - they had been warned that I was coming, grimly they told me I could go back, I did. Annie, when Daddy saw you, they had you on a crash cart of sorts - a very bored looking tech was pumping a little hand pump - your respirator, really?
I remember having a conversation with the tech, looking around seeing solemn faces of sympathy - petting your little face, they had a rubber band to hold the air tube in, your tongue was caught in the rubber band and your teeth - I remember telling the tech to get that out of your mouth, that it had to hurt, she did as I asked. She asked me if I wanted to take you off the "respirator" to let you pass and I said yes. She told me to say my good bye's, I did so - I remember telling you so many things, how much Daddy loved you, I would miss you, I was so sorry this happened, don't leave me, this wasn't how this was supposed to end... she stopped the respirator and Annie, you kept breathing.. your little heart beat, "beep, beep, beep, beep...." I remember asking her how long it would take, she said she didn't know - she asked me if I wanted to ease your suffering by her giving you something to "help you along..." Of course, Daddy said yes.. I was no ready for that... "beep, beep, beep.........nothing." I think I died with you Mae Mae, my baby. The second that I heard silence.. no beeps.. I knew that was it.
Annie, I threw my entire body over that crash cart and screamed, "Daddy loves you baby girl, I love you, I love you, I love you. I'm so sorry." I laid on top of you and covered you with my body. I'm not sure what happened or what I was trying to do, I sobbed. I haven't cried like that ever in my life. I took a deep breath, I stood up and just kept petting you. They asked if I would like some time alone with you, I said yes. They said they would prepare you and bring you to me in an exam room. I remember looking at the tech and said, "she was a rescue, she's responsible for saving over 100 rescue dogs through me, she inspired me with her story of suffering to rescue over 100 dogs..." The tech looked confused and scared and wanting nothing more that to be done with me.. she said, " I can tell you Mr. Wagner, not many dogs are loved like you obviously loved her. We don't see many dogs loved like that."
So, they had me wait in this room - there was the "Rainbow Bridge" poem hanging on the wall. I remember thinking, a lot of pets must die here.. I sat down.. and waited.. they brought you in, wrapped in this blanket and put you in my arms - Annie, I cried and cried, I talked to you - they had left an IV tube into your neck , there was blood in it - I took it - I don't know why, it was your blood, maybe I could clone you - I thought of so many things - I left you in the room, asked for scissors, cut a bunch of your hair - put it in a plastic bag that I had brought - I petted you, I comforted you, I loved you and hugged you, my baby was dead, gone. My little rescue dog, that suffered with PTSD, random shaking, survived three knee surgeries, anal gland issues all of your life and dentals that I doubt even needed to be done. Daddy was a total nut when it came to your care Annie, nothing was too good for you, I gave you everything that I could afford.
When you first came to me and I got that trainer for a $1000.00 - it didn't matter, you were worth it. I was committed to giving you the best life that I could - it ends up with this? You were still young Annie, not even 11 - you had years left. Sparky was supposed to be the next to go, not you. I am so sorry, little Wook, little Fuzzy - my heart, my life, my joy. Thank you, Annie. I have never laughed so hard, been so happy and felt so fulfilled and complete as I was when I was with you. I used to love it when you would jump up in my lap and curl up and looking back at me - knowing you were my pride and joy, secure in that - you were finally loved as any dog should be. I was so over the top with you and I didn't care. You were and are precious to me, always Annie.
This past year has been an agony. Daddy has fallen apart Annie. I put on a good show for the world but I am empty inside. I quit the Board of Directors for the rescue, I resigned as the leader of the three BEH departments - I have been miserable with out you little one. I can tell you, I never believed in anything of a spiritual nature, psychic and paranormal but little one - things have happened - a week after you died, I asked you to let me know that you were ok, at 3:11am - the living room motion sensors went off.. then Spike running into the bedroom and jumping on the bed, barking at you, or at least where you used to lay and he would bark trying to get you to play - then I felt your little fur brush up again my shin - again, the security camera's catching an orb of light.. then a cluster of orbs - Annie, maybe it's Daddy's wishful thinking - I just pray that you are ok where ever you are, safe and loved and happy.
Then Sparky having a stroke, three weeks after you died, Annie. I thought he was going to join you, I know he misses you, too. He was you right hand man - little Sparky - he wouldn't be here if it weren't for you, he was always in your shadow in my eyes. Annie, do you know he never barked until you died, then he knew he had to, he was the next in line, my boy Spark. In the past year Annie, your brother Sparky has had a year of dealing with the youth of Spike and your daughter Mae, I guess that makes her my grand daughter doggy :)
Peanut, even your daughter, Mae - yes, I call her your daughter - she is so much like you - born exactly a week after you died - a little female broken coat Jack Russell - when that video popped up on Facebook, why did that happen? Did you make that happen Annie? Her little puppy video popped up - I have no clue how that happened. I had NO intention of getting another dog - let alone a baby puppy. Spike was it - my last puppy - Daddy is getting old and I don't want any pets outliving me - no one would take care of all of you like I do :) Annie, no one will ever take your place. I have to admit, that when I saw the video - she was so woeful and alone and shy - like you - and a puppy, eight weeks - I have to admit to hoping your little soul jumped from your little body into hers. Now, I don't want that at all, she's her own little doggy - as sweet as she can be - the new princess puppy - I love her for her, who she is. She loves your Daddy, Annie - I believe you gave her to me, to save me. She has in a way, I will never die before they do - I have thought about it, I was that destroyed by your death Annie. In many ways, I still I am - with Spike and Sparky - your Aunt Dot could have taken them on and they would be fine, you all love her but, like you, Mae is all about your daddy.
She should be around until I'm 70, so I'm here until then at least - the God's willing.
So - here I am a year later, Annie. My health has suffered so badly since you've died. I've let myself go. I've gained 30lbs, drink too much and very much self isolate - I put on a good game face though. I have to say, that Mae has brought me back joy - at first, I felt guilty that I could laugh like that again with you gone, but Annie - she's so full of life and love and happiness and innocence and trust - I can't take that away from her by being a depressed and sad doggy daddy - that wouldn't be fair to steal her joy and hope.
Mae is you Annie, times ten, your drama is hers - she's jealous and needs me like you never admitted that you did (but you did, smile). Thank you for giving her to me. So, looking forward, Daddy is going to focus on "getting well" - losing weight - not drinking, following up on Dr's appointments and focusing on joy and cheer, good health and being happy again.
Today Annie, I think I truly have been able to deal with your being gone for the first time and acknowledging it - I have literally cried every day for the past year, over you leaving me and in such a tragic way. If you were old and suffering, I could understand but this was over me giving you a dog bone that splintered trying to celebrate Spike's birthday. I have conquered the world Peanut but this, your death - took me to depths of despair and loneliness that I have never experienced before. People would question, "over a dog?" Annie, you know Daddy's past - after years of other peoples drama, one person in particular, I built a bubble around me that no human could get through - you little dog, did. You became my world, you gave me purpose that was full of joy, trust and honest devotion. Your death put me into a tail spin of my own personal suffering - Aunt Dot and Nomy were very worried about Daddy - your little daughter Mae - saved Daddy. She is what I imagine you would have been without all of the trauma you suffered, her world is very small and very perfect. I plan on spending the next fifteen years keeping it that way and I will.
Today was all about remembering you. I took the week off from work, a few people checked in on me today to see how I was, that was kind. People have been more kind over you than I ever would have expected. That has meant a lot. Losing you has been like losing a child, I truly believe I could not have loved my own child more that I loved you - maybe that's why I never had my own children, I would have been a total nut, ha! You know, I'm right :)
You're brother Sparky and I went on a memorial walk for you at your favorite park today, Annie. We visited all of your favorite places. He has not been back to that park since you died, Mae Mae. Today was the first and it was all to celebrate your life. After that, Daddy scheduled an appt with a renowned tattoo artist to have your portrait tattooed on my left bicep - then I spent the afternoon getting lost in google photos and watched dozens of old movies of you and looked at all of your old pictures - I miss you, Annie. It did make me feel good to see that you had a good life after you came to be a Wagner, a very good and very happy life - you deserved it after all of your suffering and abuse as a pup and young doggy - my happy girl. Then your Aunt Dot joined me for a memorial dinner in your honor - we toasted your memory, your Aunt Dot loved you Annie - she's the only one that I trusted when I went out of town to stay with and care for you. The picture that I'm having tattooed on me, she took of you while Daddy was in Egypt, it shows your happy personality and who you really are - you knew your place in this house and in my life.
After dinner, I came home - at 9:23pm to 9:36pm, I said a string of "Hail Mary's" to you and prayed that you are ok - then at 10:30pm, I headed out to the ER vet's where you died, exactly a year ago to the minute - where you little big brave heart, stopped beating and both of our lives ended. Annie, Daddy has not been out there since you died, I vowed never to go back - I hated that place - especially after I was handed your ashes and they said, "oh - by the way, no metal was found".. I remember thinking that the ashes they handed me weren't you - where was your "bionic" knee? It should have been there, where was it? Then, I found it - another gift to me - your little titanium knee - I wear it as a necklace today. I had such dark thoughts of the negligence when I thought of that ER vet, your suffering and ultimately your death - my death. Guess what, sweetheart? The building you died in, is gone - it's been leveled. When I pulled up, it was 10:48 - I was going to discretely pull up, say a prayer for you at 10:52pm and leave - the building itself is gone, a new ER vet is about 100 yards behind the old building - how fitting - I actually felt good about it. I parked the car where I did last year when I came to say good bye to you, the exact same spot - then I walked through the rubble to where I imagined that little crash cart was where you died - I said hello to you - told you that I loved you and that I was so sorry for the way that our story together ended.
I realized then that our story will never end, you will always be with me baby girl - little Shawnee, my Mae Mae, my baby - my joy. I heard a song with lyrics that said "I will always carry your light inside of me..." and Annie, that is so true, I always will - I choose to think about ALL of the happy times we had together, the hardships we survived - my God - your knees - little one, you were such a trooper through all of it - I had such respect for your tenacity of life and ability to move through hardship. I admired that - you set an example for me - your human, I only hope that I can live up to it. I will do my best.
Annie, Daddy can never explain this bond between us - sometimes I think that it's we were both so badly damaged by people, by humans - and we recognized it in each other, a kinship of abuse, hardship - mistrust, self reliance and survival and that having each other in our lives, somehow gave us comfort - the ability to trust again, be happy and to love - thank you, Annie - thank you for that - you were the only pure little thing in my life. I just wish we could have had one more day together, that we knew what was going to happen - I would have done all of your favorite things, fed you ice cream - steak, gone for a long walk and most of all hugged and kissed you and kept you safe. I love you, Annie. I always will. I told you that night, "I will see you in Heaven." and I hope over all hopes, that I will. I miss you every minute of every day, Jelly Bean. :) Yes, that tech was right - you were loved and loved more than most - and always will be. Now, it's time for Daddy to heal.
Maybe someday, I will come back and update this blog Annie - there is so much to write about your life. About the rescue work that you inspired me to do, you really did save over 100 dogs, probably hundreds of dogs when I think about it - you even have a book dedicated to you - a book written by a man dedicated to dog rescue work - I was pleased to see that and you surely deserved that "To Annie, a very Special Rescue dog." And that you are.
