Callie Crossed the Bridge

On Tuesday January 1st my sweet little Callie left this world and crossed the Rainbow Bridge. I came home from work that day and found she was not feeling well; I thought she had symptoms of a respiratory infection. I sat down on the couch for a few minutes to try to decide if I should take her to the hospital or if she'd be okay until the next morning when I could get her to her regular vet, when she came into the living room and laid down at my feet. I sat down on the floor next to her, softly petting her and talking to her with her head in my lap, debating about what to do. Just then, Callie looked up at me as if to say 'please help me'. I will never forget that look, ever. It was absolutely heart-wrenching. I had to do something, so I immediately scooped her up and put her in the car and drove her to the hospital. The doctor said it was bad. Callie wasn't getting enough oxygen and the doctor couldn't hear Callie's heartbeat because there was so much noise in her chest. Callie was immediately given supportive oxygen and the doctor wanted to get chest films. After the chest films came back, I knew it wasn't good. The doctor was trying really hard to draw me a picture of the lungs and tissues and explain everything, but halfway through her drawing/explanation I just started crying and asked if there was any way to fix her. The doctor said 'No, I'm sorry.' She said that Callie's prognosis was extremely poor and that if I even tried to treat her, she would end up on a ventilator. And her chances of surviving the ventilator were even worse. I knew I couldn't do that to Callie. I couldn't put her on a ventilator. The doctor showed me her chest films and even compared them to those of a dog with pretty normal films, and it was like night and day between the two. I knew I had to let her go. The doctor agreed that letting Callie go would be the kindest thing to do for her. The doctor took me back up to the Family Room to get comfortable and she brought Callie in for me to say my Goodbyes. I wanted to sit with her all night but I just couldn't since she was still struggling a little bit for each breath, even with the supportive oxygen. After a few minutes the doctor came back in to check on me and asked if I needed a few more minutes. I said no, I wanted my Callie to rest. She needed to rest. A few seconds after the doctor gave her the shot, my Callie was gone, free of whatever was ailing her. She looked so peaceful, so sweet laying there as if she was napping. I must've stayed there with her for another half hour or so afterwards, I just felt like I was leaving her behind somehow even though I knew she was gone.

Today is now the 13th and I still cry. It has taken me this long to be able to write about her in her diary, and I am crying right now. I miss everything about her, it hurts so much. I miss the way she'd get the other dogs barking at nothing, the way I'd have to gently wake her up from a nap for dinner time or a potty break since her hearing wasn't so good anymore, the way she'd keep her distance when I would eat a meal but would swoop in once I was finished to search for any crumbs I might have dropped, to the way she patrolled the backyard with her There's-Only-Room-For-One-Sherriff-In-This-Town attitude. I could go on and on about all of the things I truly love about her, but those are the things that I'll carry with me every day. I may have only had Callie in my life for 4 years, but she only took about 4 seconds to find her way into my heart. I will always be thankful for the time we had together, I wouldn't change a second of it.


Goodbye our sweet little Callie. We will always love you and will never forget you.

Love always,
Mom, Dutchess, Jackson, Pokey, Peaches, Kuma

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