Her hair is golden with a reddish cast to it. I used to call that color strawberry blonde. I would kill for hair that color. Mine is faded blonde, with invasive gray at the temples that require coloring. Well it doesn’t require anything, but I choose not to be gray. I choose not to be old as well, but of course it is happening anyway. And it is happening to Holly. Except for her black nose, outlined mouth, long pink tongue, and black almond shaped eyes, her face is white right up to and around the brows. Her crowning glory remains the reddish gold floppy ears that match her coat and frame her beautiful face. I’m not sure who is aging faster. She is my companion, my working partner, the reason I get up in the morning, the reason I go out to walk, and the reason I return home at night. She is my golden retriever, Holly go Lightly, named for the Audrey Hepburn character in Breakfast at Tiffany’s.
She will die before me unless I die very soon. When they cut her open and removed the spleen that had ruptured from the weight of the cancer, they discovered two more cancers in her colon just in case the first one didn’t kill her. Is that what they mean by over-kill? They cut her open on the last Thursday in February. They cut me open the same day. And I bled. And I bled. Malignancy; comes from the root mal meaning bad; malpractice, malnutrition, malformation, maligned, maladjusted, Malfoy in Harry Potter,.the bad kid, .bad, bad, bad. Is it any wonder my back wrenched and bent me in half on the day of the mal- surgery. I am a metaphor for her; I could not stand because I could not stand it. I felt broken. I had to lie down unable to move. I felt I would never get up again. I would die with her.
She is the dog I wanted when I was seven years old and was denied anything four footed in the house. I did not want canaries that died. But that’s what I was given. I would find each one of them at the bottom of the covered cage on their backs with feet up. I waited a long time for Holly. She is the loss of all losses. She is more beloved than my mother when she died, than my father when he died, than Steve when he left me, each time he left me. She is my life line.
I have struggled to make everything right with her. I did my research on Goldens, nowhere did I find splenetic tumor. I read all the books, went to the best breeders, did all the training, and gained all I could know about this very first dog in my life. I wanted a healthy dog. She’s always been sick. I wanted an obedient dog. She’s never listened to me. All my unresolved issues in life were played out with her. I was never assertive. I wanted to please her. I waited on her. I worshipped her. I thought you were supposed to give them choices. Do you want to go out and play now? What would you like? What do you need? Let me take care of you. So yes, you might say I spoiled her.
But oh, what a love; what a charmer. Not all dogs can do it, but those of us who live with Goldens know that they have the gift of smiling. Holly lit up the world with her smile. I know she came to teach me many things; most of all how to take charge of my life by learning how to take charge of her; how not to get pushed around by anyone by not letting her lead me, or push me around. I am still in process. It is not finished. But time up, game over. I loved her and she is leaving. And I cannot do a thing about it. We lie on the floor together on her comforter and I put her head in my lap, massage her shaven abdomen with the deep dark gashes that go from one end to the other, and I tell her how beautiful she is. She sleeps peacefully. And I don’t sleep at all. And maybe never will again.
Post script to my friends September, 2002
I will tell you while I can, and in the way that I can. My golden girl is dying, our journey has come to its inevitable conclusion. I have been grieving for seven months; and now the universe has spoken and will re-claim her to do therapy for spirits passed on. The time is short; rejoice for we have only what we have. How can you help you ask. You have always been there.
I used to tell people that when I lost Holly, they would find me floating face down in the lake outside my front door. I used to say, when the time comes, I won’t be able to ask, so just come and get me. Yet I have wakened every morning since her diagnosis and said “thank you god, for another day with Holly.” And I have driven every week to the beach in Malibu and watched my beloved golden girl running on the beach, chasing her obsession, the tennis ball, floppy ears flying, mouth laughing, one happy dog. And there has been the time to say a loving goodbye. What a luxury. Animals truly are our connection to the universe and to each other. What a great journey this has been.
On October 24, I made the agonizing decision to give Holly my final gift of love by allowing her gentle spirit to leave her beautiful golden body and continue the journey of healing for which she was sent to us. She had a beautiful death, assisted by her beloved Dr. Farber, with all the courage, dignity and style with which she lived; surrounded by love and gratitude. With bliss, she died in his hands.
She sends you all her steadfast unshakable love with reminders that:
All we have is love. Love is all there is.
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The time to say goodbye is so painful. I had the biggest hole in my heart for a long time when I lost my companion therapy dog Reggie. Later it was filled with Brandy. Reggie is always here in spirit, but Brandy is here in love.
Did you ever fill the void?
Funny you should be asking me this right now. It has been seven years….and the universe presented me with a kindred spirit a few months ago. She is arriving this Saturday from Oregon. She is a Goldendoodle, now 11 months old. I named her Jennifer. She will be trained to assist me with a balance disorder, as my service dog and also will work with me as a therapy team. She reminds me of Holly. Thanks for asking. Good timing.
Marian