You know these things are coming, from the day a fluffy bundle of joy arrives home with you. You know it, but you tuck it away like the knowledge that you’ve a progressive, debilitating disease that will probably get worse. You tuck it away because the good days — and the day in question, November 30, was one of the best in my life — can help you through the bad. That was the day I kept a promise to my wheaten terrier (and myself) that I’d made six years earlier.
I Promised I’d Bring Her Home One Day, and I Did
On the top of a hill, with my back against an ancient stone wall and looking out onto where the brown-green Irish hills slumped into the gray sea, I promised young Sadie that I would bring her back one day. That I would bring her home, as it was the land of her birth, and the three months I’d spent there over the winter of 2005 to 2006 with her had made it my heart’s home as well. We took off from the Ireland of pony traps, turf fires, and cups of tea with neighbors, and we landed in Seattle three days before the Seahawks’ first-ever Super Bowl game. Not only did Sadie and I not know what time or day it was, I had the feeling I’d left one world and arrived in another world decades later. The anniversary of the day we landed back in Dublin, and I kept my promise to her, will forever be one of those you tuck in your heart for the darker days we all know will come.
Those 8 Years Were the Best of My Life
The ensuing eight years that Sadie and I spent discovering the beaches and lanes, streams and hills of our peninsula were the best of my life and of hers as well. November 30 was a day worth celebrating. Was, and still is, but … As Sadie passed her 16th birthday in July 2020 — and even before that, if I were to be honest with myself — it was apparent that birthday would be her last. She’d gone completely deaf by that point, and a degenerative neurological condition was making her daily (and nightly) routine more difficult. She still loved to get out on the strand, to sniff the rabbit holes in the field behind the house, and to lie at my feet as I wrote my books. But, like her Da taking advantage of a good multiple sclerosis (MS) day and paying the price in those following, her recovery time was getting longer while her stamina during the good times got shorter.
And Then, She’d Had Enough
We lost sleep together as she tried to get comfortable and doze for an hour or so at a time before wanting to go out — usually just to sniff the night air — before settling back in for another nap. We shortened our morning walks to the point where they were really just a few houses up the lane and back. Then we had to wait for a cloudy spell or for when the sun was behind the trees to go out, as the bright light disorientated her, and she would stumble. And one day, she just decided that she’d had enough. Sadie was the kind of dog you only get to partner with once in your life, and that’s only if you are very fortunate. She told me when she’d had enough, and it was my duty to respect her assessment of her quality of life. It is the most difficult right decision to make. Those who know, know.
She Left the Earth on the Anniversary of Our Arrival in Ireland
I suppose she knew, somehow, how difficult the anniversary of her passing would weigh on me until the day of my own. I look through thick saline as I try to even type the story of it all. Fitting then, that she left us — as quietly and ladylike as you’d expect from the extraordinary life that she was — on the very day we celebrate our return to her native and my adopted home. There are good days and bad days in any life. Those of us with chronic illness know keenly the difference between them and the imperative to enjoy the good — both for the immediate benefits and for the way they can cheer up mind, body, and heart when the days are not so good. The 30th of November will, forever, be the best of days for me. So, too, will it be the worst. But I’ll remember the 2,920 days in between the two, because that’s how Sadie and I learned to do it. RIP Newkdera Sadie Peg O’My Heart. Wishing you and your family the best of health. Cheers, Trevis
