RIP

In her typical inimitable form, Rosalita aka Rosie Cole, grumped her way off the mortal coil this morning at 11:15 am. She passed pleasantly under the care of the most wonderful vet staff in America. We first gave her a sedative to relax her and Rosie felt no pain for the first time in a long while. I realized then that it was the first time I had seen her truly relaxed and comfortable for months. I pet her and talked to her, rubbed her ears, and just let her be peaceful for a while. When we finally euthanized her after she was comfortable, her death was near instantaneous. From the time Dr. Stone pulled back and aspirated the needle, drawing a little bloom of blood into the poison, and then injecting the medicine, it took 3-4 seconds for her to pass. I had my hand on her and felt her sigh and she was gone.

As with everything involving Rosie, the decision to put her down was difficult. Truth be told, I probably should have done it a month agao, but I am of the belief if there are still good days to be had, you owe it to them. Unfortunately, we had reached the point where there just were not any good days left. She was almost if not completely blind, had a very difficult time walking, and was confused and getting stuck everywhere- behind the toilet, in the railings on the banister, in between the deck steps, in the wires under the computer desk, etc. This weekend, when she had a lot of difficulty getting up, I decided it was time.

It was a hard decision because Rosie never really liked me, and although I loved her, I didn’t like her that much a lot of the time. So my mind played tricks on me- if I put her down to early, was I doing it for me because she was a difficult dog? Would I put Lily down that early? And because of this doubt, I probably let her suffer more than I should have. It’s such a difficult decision.

But enough about the grim stuff, let’s remember the good things. As you may remember, Rosie joined the household over a decade ago as I was driving through the country and saw this white thing in the middle of the road running around in circles. I got close, stopped the Subaru, got out to inspect her (by now I knew it was a dog), and I chased her around the car and she jumped in the driver’s seat and said “Let’s go!” And so we did.

She had clearly been abandoned as she had no caller and this was a dumping zone, but I still made pictures of her and posted them everywhere for a ten mile radius, and stopped at every farm house in that zone, asking if anyone was missing a dog, and was told at almost every house “No, but congratulations on your new dog.”

Rosie had clearly been abused, ate while lying down because she had been crated so much of her life, was not leash trained, and had probably been kicked a lot based on the fact that she bit my foot every time I walked by her for the first couple of years. For the first year, my friends all tried to talk me into putting her down because she was vicious, and one friend named her Snarls Barkley and it stuck.

I disagreed with everyone, and didn’t think she was mean or vicious, she was just angry and needed space and to not be fucked with. She was never a problem with Lily or Tunch, and she and Thurston became good play buddies and she became downright BFF with Steve- they would share beds and cuddles for hours until one of them realized what they were doing and would fuck off in shame.

Over time, she calmed down a little, although she was eventually banned from the bed because she bit my feet every time I moved, and she became a pretty good dog. She liked to play, loved her treats and her food, and was adorable when she got the zooms. She became a good part of the pack.

I can say without hesitation that she never really liked me, and on her best days I could expect her to tolerate me pretty well. She was not a lapdog, didn’t want my cuddles, would ocassionally suffer the indignity of me petting her, and we became pretty functional roommates with clear boundaries.

On the other hand, she did have her people that she ABSOLUTELY adored. She just loved my dad to pieces, becoming putty any time he came around.

She adored Gerald, and would race to him any time he came over and just be on him like ugly on an ape the entire time he was here. She really liked Devon, although at first Devon had to talk in a deep voice to her because if she used her normal voice Rosie got really angry. Over time, though, Rosie started to love her, too.

And then there was Tammy. Rosie just loved Tammy. Would spend an entire weekend following her around the house, wagging her tail. It simultaneously made me infuriated with jealousy and thrilled that she was capable of love. I guess Tammy just has a way with difficult people, which could explain our relationship.

I gave Rosie a nice bath this morning, in part to get her clean, in part because it is the only time she submits to me and I can touch her and talk to her without her just leaving me. Rosie was a SUPER SMART dog, and on bath days if I did not do her first, I would not see her for three days. But once I got her into the sink, she basically submitted as if to say “Alright you fucker, you got me, let’s get this over with.” So we had a nice talk, I dried her off and gave her some treats, and we went to the vet.

I will always have a place in my heart for her, and I love that she had such a strong personality that superceded her instincts as a Jack Russell Terrier. I would never have chosen her to be my pet, but the universe decides the animal you need is not always the animal you want.

Rest well, old friend. We did our best.

RIP Rosie Cole (2005??-2021)Post + Comments (305)

My parents had to put down Ginny this morning, who died of a particularly aggressive cancer of the blood. I had not mentioned this to you all because there was so much else bad going on in the world, but over the past few months she had developed bleeding tumors all over her body, and twice had to have surgery to remove them. This is a particularly nasty cancer that does not respond to chemo or radiation, and Ginny quite never got over the second surgery, and even as she was recovering more tumors were appearing.

Harry, our family vet, came over and helped ease Ginny out of her pain this morning, and suffice it to say mom and dad are devastated, so keep them in your thoughts. It’s hard to imagine life without Ginny- she was just such a big presence crammed into a tiny little body, with dozens of personality quirks that made her an absolute delight to know.

She will be very, very missed.

RIP Ginny Cole, the Goodest GirlPost + Comments (132)