On the eve of Friday March 24th my dog Remy bit me. Benjamin and I were experimenting with a fancy cocktail - The Aviation. He brought home these delicious, syrupy, Croatian, maraschino cherries. Deep, deep red. When you lifted one out of the jar, the syrup would wait a full two seconds before dripping off. Somehow this felt elegant.
Remy laid in his bedroom/kitchen bed half watching. He had become much weaker the last few weeks so I thought he might like a jolt of sugar. I dipped my right pointer finger in the syrup and bent down towards his bed. Two seconds later the syrup dripped and Remy bit. My sweet puppy had his teeth on my cherry dipped, right pointer and I had no idea how the situation was going to end.
…
There was only one situation Remy might attempt to bite you. When you were leaving him. I always warned company when leaving, "Don’t say goodbye. Remy hates goodbyes." When he noticed the shoes going on, the jacket being zipped he’d start paying attention. He'd stand there blocking you with one paw raised, an intimidation tactic that seemed to say: One move and I punch you. A few times he’d bite my heels as I put them on at the door.
My Remy routine (and routine in general), changed a lot the last few years. But it was the last 5 months of Remy's life it changed the most. On November 3rd I said goodbye to Remy from an oxygen chamber. He had anxiously spent the hour being put through the ringer of tests and I was leaving him to be put through more. Hours later I was told over the phone my sturdy, bowling ball had a heart base mass that was suspected to be cancerous and that it would be an ok decision to consider euthanasia. I made a call to Laps of Love. An appointment was made for them to come to my house 3 days later. We went to get Remy.
I sat in the backseat of my dads car with Remy where my dad had a bed ready for him. I collapsed over a still groggy pup and told my dad I was glad we decided to bring him home.
Remy wasn't in great shape. His walk had become stiff and slow and all he wanted to do was lay in bed. That first night after his diagnosis, I slept with him out in my living room. A few hours into the night I woke up to Remy standing on his own and slurping water out of his bowl for 20 seconds straight. Benjamin walked in from down the hall and said it was the best noise he heard.
The next day my dad brought over salmon. A friend brought pepperoni. A package arrived with a stuffed heart toy. Lots of tears for Remy but also lots of love and support and gourmet meals. Remy was weak but there seemed to be a renewed energy in him that had me doubting saying goodbye so soon. Was Remy feeling the love as much as me?
I canceled the appointment.
Remy had always been my world but this was a new world for us. I carried my love for him with everything I did and spent all my time doting on him.
Remy became stronger in his weakened state and seemed to settle into a nice groove. He didn’t want to go on walks, so we didn’t. There was a lot of experimenting with food as he lost some control of chewing. He didn’t want his normal dog food so we gave him the good stuff. Canned chicken was a winner, salmon of course and a good amount of Doggy roll-ups aka rolled up salmon and sweet potato in slices of Tofurky. Remy even had the strength to put the paws on the couch, rub his face into his bed, beg, go down steps, and trot quickly back inside after one of his famous, deep pees barely outside the apartment. My heart soared when I opened the bathroom door after a shower and Remy laid outside waiting. He still found the sun spots to lay in. He was still Remy.
Leaving Remy's side was painful so if I had to go somewhere my dad would routinely check on him. I’d watch my dad’s arrival on the Furbo camera. Remy always seemed to sense my dad was close, picking his head up or sniffing under the door moments before he arrived. He had lost a lot of hearing so this always impressed me. Everytime I came home I would collapse happily on his bed with him and thank him for still being with me.
I kept thinking of our time together over 2020. This felt similar to that. Nowhere to go, nothing to do but be with my Remy. Some of the best times were over the holidays: forced to stay inside, eat shrimp and watch bad Christmas rom coms. I committed to doing that as much as we could in 2022. The Christmas tree went up a week before Thanksgiving. Unheard of for me. Every night I could spend watching a bad movie and a Christmas tree lit Remy, I was immensely grateful. This time with him was amazing. He was cuddly. He was hungry. I stared into this dog's eyes for hours.
Remy was still obviously not getting any better. He became skinnier, he lost muscle. I described this as Remy going into cat mode. He was thin enough to curl up next to me in a perfect cinnamon bun swirl. I didn’t like seeing him get like this but never knowing Remy as a puppy, I loved being able to hold the once 35lb, bulky Remy as a baby. My baby.
Remy’s spark quieted around mid-March. Our days became eat, sleep, cuddle, eat, sleep, cuddle. I didn’t want to force Remy to do anything he didn’t want to do but with the start of spring, I wanted him to experience the sun and smells he was missing by not going on walks. I got us a stroller. We strolled a few wonderful, wonderful times. I never quite knew if he loved it or hated it. Sometimes he’d stay standing, freaking me out that he was trying to jump. But maybe he was just getting a better look. He looked so damn cute in that stroller.
Every day was becoming a special but challenging day with Remy. He never told me he was in pain, and I don’t think he was, but his weakness was obvious. In the early, early hours of Sunday, April 2nd, I had just finished giving Remy his 4th bath of the day, blew dry his frail body on the floor of my bathroom and cried for the millionth time.
I had been having him sleep in my bed with me in his own bed for extra support. I loved the moment I carried him and his bed into mine. Flying Mister Remy! I remember specifically that night he propped his head up when I did it. The little spark. I pushed his bed into my arms and took a selfie of us. I felt bad that the flash went off.
He shifted a few times during the night and I readjusted him each time to make sure he was ok. I slept on and off.
Remy passed in bed with me that night. I woke up around 9, his body still warm. Before the sadness swept over, a moment of immense gratitude swept over me. Remy chose to leave with me by his side. Just us.
The mark from Remy’s cherry dipped bite still remains on the nail of my pointer finger. My skin on the other side is still slightly raw. This moment of fear transposed into a moment of memory and love and a scar I hope takes forever to fade.
Remy hated goodbyes.
