IN MEMORY OF LOST PETS

It's weird what can get to you sometimes.

Bush dog Spot put to sleep because of health woes

From the AP via the Houston Chronicle:

President Bush's dog Spot, the 15-year-old English springer spaniel who had remained eager to please despite increasing health troubles, died today.

Bush and his wife, Laura, went along with a veterinarian's recommendation to put Spotty, as the longtime Bush family pet was known, to sleep, according to White House spokesman Allen Abney. She had suffered a series of strokes recently, including one this week, he said.

"The president and Mrs. Bush and the entire Bush family are deeply saddened by the passing of Spot," White House press secretary Scott McClellan said Saturday in a statement. "A loyal and loving companion, Spot was a beloved member of the Bush family for nearly 15 years. She will be missed."

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As much as I despise his presidency, today I feel sad for George W. Bush. He lost his dog. And he had to make the difficult decision to put her to sleep after watching her health slowly decline. I think that this experience can be much more difficult than many people realize. After all, as my buddy Lex put it even while he was losing a real human being who was very close to him, a pet's love is much more immediate, much more unconditional than that of another person. Losing a cherished pet can be like getting pounded in the face by a baseball bat.

Last Fall, I had to put to sleep my beloved cat Giskard (named for the loyal friend-robot character in Isaac Asimov's Robots of Dawn). He had been my pal and constant companion since his birth in the summer of 1989. Early last summer, I noticed a lump in his abdomen while I was petting him. The vet said this was it, no hope. The specialist at the Texas A&M vet school agreed: make him comfortable; love him; spoil him rotten because he doesn't have much time left. This just devastated me and it got worse. Watching him slowly wither away was almost more than I could stand--I often wished that he could just die and make this horrible sadness and anxiety end, and then I hated myself for thinking such a thing.

Trying to figure out when it was time to put him down was absolutely excruciating. His death, finally, was a release, but I still haven't completely gotten over it. I don't think I ever will. It's like I'm missing an arm or something.

Two years earlier, Giskard and I lost his hetero life-partner, Alec (named for actor Sir Alec Guinness), under similar circumstances, just not as drawn out. As with Giskard, I still hurt whenever I think about losing Alec. As with Giskard, I'm afraid I'll never have any sense of what they call "closure," and I also feel like a major part of myself is gone forever.

Losing a pet can suck really, really badly. So I send the first family my condolences for the loss of Spot. And I also offer these two pictures from happier times as a memorial for my lost loved ones:

Alec (1987-2000)






Giskard (1989-2003)





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