Doja - a few remembrances.
Since I was a little girl, I have always been fortunate enough to be surrounded by both cats AND dogs, (not to mention other assorted critters). While I have always LIKED dogs, even loved many of them, I've always considered myself to be more of a cat person....but I can say honestly that Doja made me, unequivocally, into a DOJA person and that barring Stormy Blue and Cole, I would give up every single cat I have ever had to have just one more year - one more month with a healthy Doja.... Doja was special, you see. Doja was more special than any other dog that I have ever known - and I have known a LOT of dogs in my life time.
Doja had a funny sense of humor.
She was SUCH a happy girl and would get the zoomies and tear madly through the house just to hear you laugh. Her '.... tuck boogie' was the best that I have ever seen; bar none. She had a smile that would make the sun jealous because it was so bright. Her smile could light up the room and she was not selfish in sharing it. She shared it with EVERYONE - strangers included. She would do things intentionally that she knew would make you laugh. And I swear, she would laugh WITH you. Doja was also the FUN POLICE. This means no one was allowed to so something that was NOT allowed unless it was her doing it. Example: Cats on the counter tops. NOT allowed. Okay, so sometimes maybe we humans don't notice them - but Doja does - so Doja goes and sort of grunty whines at said cat - runs and looks at a human - runs back to said cat again and grunty whines again - and repeats this until the human yells, "Zeus!!!!! GET OFF OF THE COUNTER!!!" As he leaps off, Doja tries unsucessfully to put her mouth over his head so that he makes that horrible "Mearrrrr!!" sound that only a testy Siamese cat is capable of making. Doja is now very happy and I swear, grins like a lunatic and saunters back to lay down on the couch to await the next cat doing something it should not be doing. Doja liked to chase the "red light" AKA the laser. She would chase it and chase it and chase it until she was wavering on her feetin exhaustion. She would try to pick the dot up off of the floor - or to pinch it off of the wall with her incisors. She was obsessed with the 'red light' and we actually had to s p e l l i t o u t unless we wanted her to start looking all over the walls.. the floor.. the ceiling for it. It was hilarious to watch.
Doja hated motors.
I'm not sure why - but she REALLY hated them. Lawn mowers needed to DIE as far as Doja was concerned. So did weed whackers, percussive massagers, vacuum cleaners, hair clippers, dremels, and anything else that made that sort of loud whiny noise. She once tried to eat the weed whacker while it was in use. BAD idea. And it was the last time she tried that - her lips got a bit lacerated. However, she did continue to tell it who was the boss as long as it was safely on the other side of the fence from her while trimming the grass. And forget about mowing while she was in the back yard - she would try to eat the mower's tires. I had carry the fly swat while vacuuming. I did not have to hit her with it, or anything like that - just beat the furniture with it and tell her that she was next if she bit the vacuum's wheels again. Once while massaging Pete's back with the massager, she leapt flat footed onto the bed - and right into the middle of her Daddy's sore back in an attempt to kill the loud monster that was, (in her mind), attacking her Daddy. After that, we had to lock her out of the room when I used it on him.... and she would sit outside of the door and groan and cry until I shut it off and put it away. Even turned off, it was not safe from her. I had to hide it under the bed. To dremel her nails, she had to be muzzled - otherwise, she would eat the dremel. EAT. IT.
Doja was protective.
Of the weak. Of the small. Of the elderly. Of the sick. And of ANYTHING baby. Before I got really sick a few years ago with Cat Scratch Disease, I can honestly say that Doja was my hubby's dog. Doja was a Daddy's Girl through and through. They were always together and I liked Doja okay, even loved her, then, but I was most positively still a cat person. But after I became ill and was then no longer able to work, Doja felt she had to look after me - and in many ways she did. I was SO sick and there were many days.... no, weeks and months; that I could barely function. I was losing my vision, I could barely walk some days, I could not speak coherently some days, and I felt horrible EVERY day. When given the choice to go bye bye with Daddy in the car or to stay home with Mommy, about half the time, Doja now chose to stay home with Mommy. I guess she was keeping her eye on me. Then came the car wreck - and the damage to my back liked to have finished me off physically. It was also about this time that Doja was diagnosed with Hemangiosarcoma. One of the most devastatingly horrible forms of canine cancers that there are. Incurable and insidious. Oft times, you are not even aware that your dog has Hemangiosarcoma until your dog bleeds out right in front of you and there is NOTHING you can do to stop the bleeding. It was about this time that I realized how very much Doja had come to really mean to me. How precious Doja had become to me. How much I NEEDED Doja in my life. How much I depended on her happy, steady self in my daily struggles to function.
Doja's diagnoses followed so quickly by the losses of Teddy Michael, Cole, Sebastian, and Miss Ernie and emotionally and mentally, I was as bad off - if not WORSE off than I was physically. I did NOT know how I was going to cope with all of these losses and I was terrified every single day that I was going to watch Doja bleed out right in front of me. But Doja hung in there and every singe day, we grew closer and closer. I was losing more vision and having the worst headaches. HORRIBLE headaches so I went back to the doctor and was diagnosed with pseudotumor cerebri this Spring. A fancy way of saying that my body now makes too much CSF and that the pressure is too high in my head and on my brain.... so we have to get some of the fluid out periodically either with medication, or by lumbar punctures, or with a shunt. Add that to the cysts in my brain and I guess, well, I guess it is sort of a mess in there. Anyway, I digress. When the pain is so bad that all I can do is lay in a dark quiet room, Doja lay there beside me.... resting just inches from me. Asking for nothing other than to be beside her Mommy. To keep me company. To help me feel safe - and comforted. And now, she is gone... and I am bereft
It was almost three years to the day from the time Doja was diagnosed with hemangiosarcoma until DOja lost her fight with it. And she fought it HARD. Doja was VALIANT and PATIENT and put up with my bandaging of her in the most intrusive of ways to stop her bleeds. Normally, most dogs don't survive three months post diagnoses. But I guess Doja knew that I needed her and she stayed with me as long as she could. But, the last few days of her life, her bleeds suddenly became hemorrhages and they were terrifying. I knew the end was close. She ate well Saturday morning, but by Saturday night could not stand unaided and made it clear that she could no longer go on. On Monday, surrounded by loved ones, we said our last good-byes and sent Doja on her way. It was one of the hardest things that I have ever had to do. I know that time heals all wounds, but in the meantime, oh Dear Lord, it HURTS.
Doja
March 1, 2002 - July 29, 2013
~Tiger
Since I was a little girl, I have always been fortunate enough to be surrounded by both cats AND dogs, (not to mention other assorted critters). While I have always LIKED dogs, even loved many of them, I've always considered myself to be more of a cat person....but I can say honestly that Doja made me, unequivocally, into a DOJA person and that barring Stormy Blue and Cole, I would give up every single cat I have ever had to have just one more year - one more month with a healthy Doja.... Doja was special, you see. Doja was more special than any other dog that I have ever known - and I have known a LOT of dogs in my life time.
Doja had a funny sense of humor.
She was SUCH a happy girl and would get the zoomies and tear madly through the house just to hear you laugh. Her '.... tuck boogie' was the best that I have ever seen; bar none. She had a smile that would make the sun jealous because it was so bright. Her smile could light up the room and she was not selfish in sharing it. She shared it with EVERYONE - strangers included. She would do things intentionally that she knew would make you laugh. And I swear, she would laugh WITH you. Doja was also the FUN POLICE. This means no one was allowed to so something that was NOT allowed unless it was her doing it. Example: Cats on the counter tops. NOT allowed. Okay, so sometimes maybe we humans don't notice them - but Doja does - so Doja goes and sort of grunty whines at said cat - runs and looks at a human - runs back to said cat again and grunty whines again - and repeats this until the human yells, "Zeus!!!!! GET OFF OF THE COUNTER!!!" As he leaps off, Doja tries unsucessfully to put her mouth over his head so that he makes that horrible "Mearrrrr!!" sound that only a testy Siamese cat is capable of making. Doja is now very happy and I swear, grins like a lunatic and saunters back to lay down on the couch to await the next cat doing something it should not be doing. Doja liked to chase the "red light" AKA the laser. She would chase it and chase it and chase it until she was wavering on her feetin exhaustion. She would try to pick the dot up off of the floor - or to pinch it off of the wall with her incisors. She was obsessed with the 'red light' and we actually had to s p e l l i t o u t unless we wanted her to start looking all over the walls.. the floor.. the ceiling for it. It was hilarious to watch.
Doja hated motors.
I'm not sure why - but she REALLY hated them. Lawn mowers needed to DIE as far as Doja was concerned. So did weed whackers, percussive massagers, vacuum cleaners, hair clippers, dremels, and anything else that made that sort of loud whiny noise. She once tried to eat the weed whacker while it was in use. BAD idea. And it was the last time she tried that - her lips got a bit lacerated. However, she did continue to tell it who was the boss as long as it was safely on the other side of the fence from her while trimming the grass. And forget about mowing while she was in the back yard - she would try to eat the mower's tires. I had carry the fly swat while vacuuming. I did not have to hit her with it, or anything like that - just beat the furniture with it and tell her that she was next if she bit the vacuum's wheels again. Once while massaging Pete's back with the massager, she leapt flat footed onto the bed - and right into the middle of her Daddy's sore back in an attempt to kill the loud monster that was, (in her mind), attacking her Daddy. After that, we had to lock her out of the room when I used it on him.... and she would sit outside of the door and groan and cry until I shut it off and put it away. Even turned off, it was not safe from her. I had to hide it under the bed. To dremel her nails, she had to be muzzled - otherwise, she would eat the dremel. EAT. IT.
Doja was protective.
Of the weak. Of the small. Of the elderly. Of the sick. And of ANYTHING baby. Before I got really sick a few years ago with Cat Scratch Disease, I can honestly say that Doja was my hubby's dog. Doja was a Daddy's Girl through and through. They were always together and I liked Doja okay, even loved her, then, but I was most positively still a cat person. But after I became ill and was then no longer able to work, Doja felt she had to look after me - and in many ways she did. I was SO sick and there were many days.... no, weeks and months; that I could barely function. I was losing my vision, I could barely walk some days, I could not speak coherently some days, and I felt horrible EVERY day. When given the choice to go bye bye with Daddy in the car or to stay home with Mommy, about half the time, Doja now chose to stay home with Mommy. I guess she was keeping her eye on me. Then came the car wreck - and the damage to my back liked to have finished me off physically. It was also about this time that Doja was diagnosed with Hemangiosarcoma. One of the most devastatingly horrible forms of canine cancers that there are. Incurable and insidious. Oft times, you are not even aware that your dog has Hemangiosarcoma until your dog bleeds out right in front of you and there is NOTHING you can do to stop the bleeding. It was about this time that I realized how very much Doja had come to really mean to me. How precious Doja had become to me. How much I NEEDED Doja in my life. How much I depended on her happy, steady self in my daily struggles to function.
Doja's diagnoses followed so quickly by the losses of Teddy Michael, Cole, Sebastian, and Miss Ernie and emotionally and mentally, I was as bad off - if not WORSE off than I was physically. I did NOT know how I was going to cope with all of these losses and I was terrified every single day that I was going to watch Doja bleed out right in front of me. But Doja hung in there and every singe day, we grew closer and closer. I was losing more vision and having the worst headaches. HORRIBLE headaches so I went back to the doctor and was diagnosed with pseudotumor cerebri this Spring. A fancy way of saying that my body now makes too much CSF and that the pressure is too high in my head and on my brain.... so we have to get some of the fluid out periodically either with medication, or by lumbar punctures, or with a shunt. Add that to the cysts in my brain and I guess, well, I guess it is sort of a mess in there. Anyway, I digress. When the pain is so bad that all I can do is lay in a dark quiet room, Doja lay there beside me.... resting just inches from me. Asking for nothing other than to be beside her Mommy. To keep me company. To help me feel safe - and comforted. And now, she is gone... and I am bereft
It was almost three years to the day from the time Doja was diagnosed with hemangiosarcoma until DOja lost her fight with it. And she fought it HARD. Doja was VALIANT and PATIENT and put up with my bandaging of her in the most intrusive of ways to stop her bleeds. Normally, most dogs don't survive three months post diagnoses. But I guess Doja knew that I needed her and she stayed with me as long as she could. But, the last few days of her life, her bleeds suddenly became hemorrhages and they were terrifying. I knew the end was close. She ate well Saturday morning, but by Saturday night could not stand unaided and made it clear that she could no longer go on. On Monday, surrounded by loved ones, we said our last good-byes and sent Doja on her way. It was one of the hardest things that I have ever had to do. I know that time heals all wounds, but in the meantime, oh Dear Lord, it HURTS.
Doja
March 1, 2002 - July 29, 2013
~Tiger
Our thoughts are with you Tiger,, beautiful girl run free Doja
So glad you got to spend extra time with her!
