Callie

My very special Callie. aprox2012.05.20 to 2025.05.10 17:47

??from??CAPennock??
Hi everyone;
I did not want to say anything yesterday because everyone was having a good time with Mothers Day. I did not want to mess that up with this unbearable sadness.

But my Callie has passed away. My dearest friend. She is really gone. No one understands "My dearest friend" part. They ask how can a dog be more important than a person, like your Mother or Father? As our Brother Ben used to say: "It is the same, just different". The value of a persons life, whether dog or human, is not quantifiable.
It is different in the fact that Callie spent every moment with us - personally. Callie slept with us, ate with us, sat with us, traveled with us, and intimately shared our life. She was always personally with us. It is just "different".

She died in my arms. I held her warm limp body up to my face. I would never hold her again! She had taken her last breadth. She had 5 or 6 last breadths. Each short and desperate. The most painful thing in life to witness. And this problem, despite my skills and might, I could not fix it for her. The pain of the inability to fix it, is unbearable. It is like dying yourself.

She lived thirteen years, a short life compared to Lexy's eighteen years. And as I mentioned before, she was my best friend. But there is more to the story.

Callie was born into a world of tragedy. She was born and lived in the dirt, under a porch. Beside the porch, there were two empty food bowls, one tipped over. The Shiatsu puppies had been temporarily placed in the house so that people could select which ones they wanted. The owners were preoccupied with their daughter, who had lukemia. The owners had no time for puppies when the life of their daughter was at stake. And the puppies had to be disposed of as fast as possible.

No one was looking at the puppy that was to later be called Callie. No one picked her from the litter. No one wanted her because if your hand went near her, she would turn over on her back exposing her stomach, and she would squeal in pain and fright. She squealed loud, and sounded like she was going to die. A crazy display, compared to the others. Thirteen years later, she would make that very same squeal at the moment of death.

If you touched her, she would bite. No one in their right mind would pick her. And no one could evaluate her because she would hide, and did not want to be touched. She was not friendly; and for that reason, no one had picked her. She was also the smallest of the litter. It is true, no one else wanted her; But I did! I truly did. And I truly don't know why. After taking her home, Linda wanted to take her back because she was biting. Her tiny sharp baby teeth would draw blood. But I knew it would be a death sentence; no one would want such a dog. But I knew in my heart, that dog was for me. The problem was that the pups were taken from the mother way too soon. She needed her mother.

I can only guess, because I do not know, but possibly Callie was accedently stepped on by one of the school kids that came over after school to play with the puppies. I think she had internal damage. The kids could be roudy. It was too early for the puppies to be disturbed.

Callie could not eat solid food yet. She was skinny and under nourished. Thanks to Linda's quick thinking, we hand-fed her by using a finger dipped in food, and slowly, she began to lick, and then to eat. In a few days she could eat some solid food on her own.

Soon she was very happy, running and tumbling and playing as a healthy puppy should. I had her potty trained to pee on a paper matt in a couple of weeks. I never failed to reward her. I had her potty trained to go outside in another couple of weeks. I started by gently pushing her through the doggy door, and rewarding her on the other side. Very soon, I exposed her to the outdoors.

And she experienced her first time with a bird. A black crow happened to fly over. We were walking together. At the sight, Callie stopped. She stood up, supporting herself on her two back legs. And her arms outstretched. She squelled a cry of amasement, as her head turned. This was the very first time she saw something flying in the sky.

Callie was always interested in what I was doing. Here a wind vane for the RV. I am installing it on the roof. If she even thinks we are going in the RV, she is ready.

In a short time, Callie learned that I cared for her. She learned to rely on me. She learned to trust me wholeheartedly. I gave her warmth and comfort. She needed that too. She became very close to me, and supper happy. No more squeals of pain or fright. No one would have guessed that she was really a supper happy puppy, and now she was free to express that happiness in great puppy play. She traveled from Ocean to Ocean across the United States in a travel trailer. When the things outside began to look the same, she would sleep in my lap. She lived for fun, and had so much fun, living and experiencing life. She was an excellent traveler, and that was my baby. Ya, a grown man can have a baby. I can't explain it.

Callie searching for mushrooms. Huge mushroom of some kind.

She still had anxiety, which lasted all her life, like shaking and panting when it would rain or thunder. And on walks, Callie would never wonder out of my sight; unusual for a dog. You are not a dog unless you can disappear. And if I would hide behind a tree, she would go into a super panic mode, and come back looking for me. And of course, I would reward her when she found me, with love and comforting words. She had a superior understanding of English words. When I told her that she had to stay in the truck, she would instantly tuck her tail down, and bow her head in understanding, and with total acceptance, she would responsibly wait for my return. Her orange eyes, which hinted at a little "Yorke" heritage, would follow me going into a store, and calmly stand fast, remembering which store that I had went into. I would find her watching for my return. She would lick my cheek, saying thank you. She confidently trusted my words as gospel.

I can't help but think that it goes back to when she was a baby, when she thought she was going to die. And we knew she could die. But I saved her.

Callie was always with me, and here in my lap. Here something of interest out the window.

It was her goal in life, to do what she was supposed to do. I felt sorry for her to have that much devotion. She obeyed my every whisper, as if life itself depended on it. We played often with stuffed animals, with lots of physical play and touching. I was half doggy, and she was half human. I turned down three trips to Maui, because I knew that she could be emotionally damaged by the separation. I saved Callie, and she showed me. She never ever forgot it. I have never been so emotionally attached to a dog.

And to the day she died, she would always be grateful, for our unusual attachments and dependencies. Callie kept her attachment-promise to the very end, following me around, settling where I settled. When I moved from the computer chair to the coach, She would lift her feeble body off the floor, and with great effort slowly move across the floor to be near me again, and collapse to the floor near my feet. The process would repeat if I went to wash dishes in the kitchen. When done, I would turn, to find that all that time, she had collapsed behind me on the floor. She had made up her mind to be near me when she died. But neither of us knew when. During that last day whenever I softly nealt with her, softly touching her head, she would struggle to give me that familiar look of a lifetime fiend. No matter how hard, she always managed to lift her head and look me in the eyes. Soft sad eyes that were no longer wide open, but still managed to see me, as if saying goodby. Then she made her last trip across the floor. I had went back to the computer room. And true to form, ten minutes later, she was laying near me again, this time across her circular bed. She was not able to make her computer desk bed, which was 5 more feet. Her position across the bed was not normal. It looked awkward, but I was afraid to disturb her. About an hour later, she cried a scream. A terrible screech. I rushed to her side. She arched her back in a seizure, and after a moment of not breathing, began to pant. I scooted her, bed and all, to the air conditioning vent, careful not to disturb her too much. She lay there unconscious, no more responsive to me. And I did not want her to respond to me, she needed every drop of energy for herself. My finger tips were helplessly touching her body, and then she cried one more time, softer than the last, and stiffened her legs. This was it. This one was different, she had always moved her legs before. But this time, her legs stayed stiff as she gasped for air. This would be her last seizure. Her short breaths stopped, and I held her against my face for the last time. And Linda sat beside me, and she cried too. God, it was sad. She was wanting to die near me. She died in my arms.

P1260092-Callie800.jpg, 96kB

I sent an email to you, the day before her death. And in it, I mentioned the phrase: "Mommy says dinner is ready". But I was thinking and meant "Supper". I remember that clearly, I meant Supper.

Anyway, the TV was going last night, as a ineffective diversion to the pain. And a Family Reunion country show was playing. And the scene was about 30 singers gathered together in a room. And I commented to Linda that I knew every one of those people. Every one except one or two. I knew them all by sight, as most where old, and favorites of Dad. There was Stonewall, Gene Watson, Crystal Gail, one of the Statlers, Rhonda Vincent, Ricky Skags, and more. Except, as I pointed out to Linda, the man way in the back row. His name is Roy. He sang in a church, and was pale as a singer. Despite not being exceptional, even he, I recognized. But he had a wife, that made national news. She was a wonderful singer. One of the best that I have ever heard. I told Linda her name was Joey. I told Linda, it is too bad that she is dead. I used to listen to her before she died. A mear "Wonderful" does not do justice to the woman and the singer. I was in pain, Linda too. Nothing helped. And Linda left, and retreated into the bedroom somewhere. I changed the channel, and to my shock, there was Joey. Out of the blue! I yelled for Linda to come back! Come in here! This is the girl that I was just telling you about! And as Linda sat down again, Joey sang "Come Home, It is Supper Time". There was a connection! That was in my Email. Joey had died like Callie, and now Joey was helping me. I felt it. Joey, with terminal cancer, was a believer with a gift. And the gift to me was the phrase: "Come Home, It is suppertime." My Callie was comming home. What are the odds?

Callie loved Fort Bragg. Callie loved running in the sand of the beach. And many of the holes dug in the sand, are hers. You will find them scattered up and down the beach. Perhaps, she is still with them, somehow.

I don't know if Callie, as a doggy, was telling me that she too was going home, or if Joey was letting me know Callie was going home. There are those that claim, in times of grief, you imagine all kinds of crap. But they are children; You feel what is real, not know it. And I thanked God, that here in my life, Callie gave her total time, the 13 years that she was given, with me. With me! What are the odds that Joey could be helping me with Callie? I have always said that first you must see with your heart before you can see with your eyes. Now, my eyes can clearly see the physical details that eyes see!
The four details:

The email phrase of Mom: "Come in, it is Suppertime." Which I said was the secret PassWord.

A very strange desire to hear Joey sing. And the miricle that she then became there, on the TV screen.

The same death as Joey, who gave glory to God as she died: And my Callie,

And the song, which is the message, "Come Home, it is Suppertime."

I still lost my dog, but I got the message. And thankful for it. It is called Faith and Love, and all that good stuff.

Alan
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Callie-IMG_20250320_113056-800.jpg, 45kB

Callie, on my birthday, about two months before her death.

Carolyn; You asked what did Callie die of.

No one knows. I have spent over $2000 to know.

It all started about 3 years ago. I found Callie laying on the floor, unable to move. While I was trying to figure it out and watching her, surprisingly, she managed to get up. She slowly hobbled to the doggie door, pushed it open with her cheek and shakenly pushed through, hobbled down the ramp, peed at the bottom on the grass, and very wobbly climbed back up the ramp. But as soon as she got to the top, she collapsed outside at the top on the porch. She could not move anymore. I gently grabbed her up and took her to OakValley, the only Emergency Vet in Chico. With my limp dog in my arms, I pleaded with them to take her. But they refused. Citing it was after hours, and they had no room. I said look! My dog is dying. You have to see my dog. They said no.

So I phoned Linda, who anxiously was waiting at home, to start searching Sacramento for an Emergency Vet. By the time I got home, Linda had an address ready on a piece of paper, and an acceptance in Sacramento. She came out to the truck and we rolled. We arrived, and rushed in. But they were slow to take us in, about 15 minutes. Finally, the girl came to take Callie out of my arms. As she carried Callie away, Callie came to life a little, and twisted her head around to look back at me. She tried to keep her eyes looking at me as the girls body position changed. So damn sad!!!!!! But no matter the tremendous effort to keep me in site, the girl rounded the corner, and Callie was gone. They said they wanted $2000 up front, and I paid it. They were keeping her over night, and we might as well drive back to Chico.

I called early, about 7. They had no immediate information as they were not the staff on last night. A "doctor" called me back and said they could not get her to eat, and they had underestimated how sick she was. They needed another $3400 dollars for different tests. I said how come you did not do those tests when you had the chance. They could not come up with a reason, so I said; NO! You had your chance! I am immediately driving back to Sacramento, right now! Right now! And I am taking my dog! They did not recommend that. I said I am taking my dog! They said you can't right away, as it will take some time to process her. But I drove back and took her as soon as I got there. Callie was supper glad to see me. She even weekly wagged her tail as she stared at me. I sat her on some grass, and she stood on her own! And she peed! Wow! In the truck, I gave her water, she drank and drank. She was thirsty, and should have not been. She should have been on IVs. No excuse for that! I gave her some egg. She ate it. Good sign! I gave her some ham. She ate it. Wow! By the time I got her home she was doing much better.

Callie's bed. Callie was always close to me, including having her very own "Computer bed". She had a bed inside my computer desk. Anytime I was working at my computer, Callie was there. The spot is empty now. A source of great pain. God, I hate to see that empty.

Now, my local vet was open, and they took her in, and pulled blood and did xrays. He could see no problems. He said, "Not a crushed trachea". No infection. For a few hundred bucks I got some results. I think Sacramento just "housed" her, and took my $2000 dollars.

Callie did good for 2.5 years, but then developed a cough. Vet could find nothing, and put her on a steroid. He was thinking it was an allergy. Definitely helped. I occasionally gave her a half pill when she was coughing, and it seemed to work. But a few months ago her cough increased, and I was giving her a half pill every day. And it was not working.

She had a seizure a couple of months ago, for about 10 seconds, but recovered OK. Another seizure about a month ago, but longer and worse. And three seizures in the morning the day before. And one as she died. Internet said don't give your dog steroids because it can cause seizures. WTF!

So, to answer your question: No one knows. And no one gives a damn, as I have explained.
Alan

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