My Baki is slowly leaving. She turned 10 on January 9. We know she’s getting old – she’s walking slowly, she’s showing a decreased appetite, she’s getting grumpy – but we never could have guessed what is happening in her tummy. Last Thursday we went to the vet and the diagnosis hurt like the sky
had fallen on us: spleen cancer, terminal stage. She only has a few weeks to live, at the best.
I always thought this dog would beat her breed life expectancy. She’s never been sick and she’s always been a tough and very muscular girl with a healthy heart. She’s a calm and loving dog without a hint of malice. She’s the dog everyone is dreaming about. She’s welcome in all of our friends’ homes, and some of them don’t invit us if she’s not coming along. Her attitude is always more than perfect.
My mother gave me Martha, Baki’s mother, when I was 16. Martha and I had a fusional relationship until the end. I was loving her like a friend, she somehow was equal to me. She had a strong caracter and was standing up to me but she had an uncommom sensitivity. And I’m not biaised – everyone who knows her could swear she had something special, an exceptional intelligence and humanity. When I was 19, we found a great male and they mate. My so loved dog having a litter might have been the most touching experience of my life. Her litter was composed of 4 gorgeous girls. Baki was the calmest and she was prefering her mother’s companionship to her turbulent sisters’. She was loving humans too so we decided to keep her. If Baki is not as bright as her mother, she has every qualities one can hope for a dog – fidelity, docility, gentleness, sensitivity. She’s the perfect Golden Retriever who’s only goal is to please her owners. She was living in her mother’s shadow until she died on September 24, 2010. She was 10 and a half. She was having a cancerous tumour on a mammary gland. We knows for months. We had to apply bandages twice a day to avoid bleeding and infections and she was taking cortisone to stimulate her appetite and to avoid pain. We opted for euthanasia as soon as her condition got wrost and when she started suffering. Before the vet made the injection, she licked every single tear that was on my cheeks.
Since then, Baki gets almost all of the love I have to give. Since I’m working from home, she spends her days listening to my explanations on why does jQuery is a good choice to integrate a slider in a webpage, and to my complanings about my most difficult clients. Let us be honest: if she wasn’t here to listen to my speeches one could seriously have doubts about my mental health. But she is here to listen and to remind me that I have to walk her (and me) everyday. I’m not sure I would get out of here everyday if it wasn’t for her, neither if I would dress properly if I didn’t have to get out to walk her. I don’t know how it’s possible to healthily work from home without having a dog to keep us in the reality.
Ah… how I’ll miss her…
Her looks, her cuddles, the big bites she takes in the snow on stormy days, her way to snuggle in the bed, her growls when we pet her, her way to turn her head when we scratch her neck, her will to please us, the softness of her fur, the warmth of her body…
I love her. Probably a lot more than I should.