Goodbye, Sandy

My dear old Sandy gave up yesterday, after 18 years of a happy life. She was one of the lucky ones. Adopted from the Humane Society at age 2, she lived 12 years with her first owner. Marge, my neighbor, died suddenly at the age of 85 a few years ago. Sandy came to live with me and my family of dogs at the age of 14. I never dreamed she would live this long.  Her first few hours here, she sat by my gate and howled, her head thrown back in sorrow. My heart ached for her. Marge's son sent me an (unexpected) check a few days later, to cover Sandy's medical care if she needed any. Marge's daughter offered to provide food and money for the rest of Sandy's life, which I declined. They were so thoughtful and generous.  Once Sandy settled in, she was queen of the castle, dominant and snotty, but I loved her. She and my collie Emma didn't get along too well. After Emma passed away, Sandy was happier, and everyone got along great after that.  As she aged, she lost most of her hearing and her sight. Her arthritis made her elbows stick out at weird angles, but she still ran and played out in the yard. The past few weeks, she was losing control of her rear, having accidents, and dragging her legs when she tried to crawl out of her favorite bed. Yesterday, she just lay down and gave up, unresponsive to anything, so I knew it was time.  I will miss her.