Oscar's Story

OSCAR'S STORY

When we receive a puppy into our homes, as well as our hearts, we do not know how they are going to turn out…will they be pretty, will they be nice? But all that turns out to not even matter, as we love them just the way they are.

My sweet pea, Oscar, came home with me when he was 6 weeks old. He turned out to be a beautiful German Shepherd that was loyal, affectionate, and intelligent. He carefully observed what we did on a daily basis and then he tried to imitate. I came home from work one day and my parents told me that, for awhile, they could not find Oscar anywhere in the house. Finally, they found him sleeping on my bed, just the way I slept – on my side and head on the pillow! Oscar was also very clean. On a weekly basis (sometimes less than that) he would pick up one of his furry squeaky balls and throw it into the washing machine in front of our faces reminding us that it's time to clean his toys. Then he would sit patiently by the dryer waiting for us to bring out every one of his toys and throw it to him so he could go chase them one after another.

Other than work and school, he accompanied me almost everywhere- he was like my shadow. When full grown, Oscar was a 90 pound bundle of joy, full of energy, spirit, and character. When he was bored, he could always entertain himself, or for more amusement, he would come find one of us! There were times that I was doing homework on the kitchen table when all of a sudden, a furry ball flew down from above and landed between my textbook and my eyes. When I looked up, I saw Oscar, with a big grin on his face and his tail wagging and wagging saying, "hey, let's play!!”

It was really devastating to see a beloved family member that was so full of energy, all of a sudden slow down in all his usual daily activities. Oscar had hip dysplasia and was prescribed Remidyl, but the medication did not seem to help. In a way, he had gotten worse. He would require our help to stand up, but once up, he would walk around proudly as his typical self.

When our house was sold, we had to move into an apartment (that allowed large dogs) while awaiting for our new home to be built. We did not want Oscar to go through the added stress of bouncing around from home to home, so we decided to move him to my brother's house in Atlanta- a very nice, calm, wooded setting environment that Oscar had always liked. We had him vetted, updated on all shots, and then drove off to Atlanta. Within 15 minutes of arrival at my brother’s house, Oscar collapsed in front of our eyes! We rushed him to the nearest vet hospital, but the vet did not feel that anything was wrong with him at the time, except that he may be over-tired. In the following few days, his condition had worsen. He seemed to have lost some eye sight, as he kept walking into the walls and/or the fence in the backyard. He also started to show signs that he had trouble drinking water. Instead of curling the tip of his tongue to pick up water, he would merely just wet it. We again called the vet, while I also consulted with his regular vet at home. More tests were run and it was discovered that he had Idiopathic-Thrombocytopenia (ITP) ITP is an autoimmune disease and Oscar was destroying his own platelets. According to the vet in Atlanta, these platelets had also caused minor bleedings in his brain and possibly blocked certain nerves or nerve endings, which led him to loose some bodily functions like eyesight and swallowing. He was then prescribed a high dosage of steroids to control the ITP.

Since Oscar started the steroids, he was back to his old self for about 2 weeks. He was brought back home, but then started to get weaker and weaker. Finally, his body just gave up to a combination of sicknesses. Oscar passed away on October 19, 2002 at a vet hospital, just less than a month from his 7th birthday. Every effort was made to try to save him, but was unsuccessful .

He is deeply and sadly missed by his family as well as all that know him. Rest in peace, Oscar boy, you are always in our hearts. It seemed like just yesterday when I first brought you home in my arms and you slept so peacefully and contently on my stomach. We were so fortunate to have you. Although it had only been less than 7 years, those were the most precious 7 years because of you. Thank you Oscar, for all the precious time you have given us. Until life runs its full circle and our paths cross again, my dear friend, roam happily at the rainbow bridge, and always remember that we love you very, very much.

" If tears could build a stairway,
and memories a lane,
I would walk right up to Heaven
and bring you home again."

-author unknown-

Living Love

If you ever love a pet, there are three days in your life you will always remember...

The first is a day, blessed with happiness, when you bring home your young new friend. You may have spent weeks deciding on a breed. You may have asked numerous opinions of many vets, or done long research in finding a breeder. Or, perhaps in a fleeting moment, you may have just chosen that silly looking mutt in a shelter--simply because something in its eyes reached your heart. But when you bring that chosen pet home, and watch it explore, and claim its special place in your hall or front room--and when you feel it brush against you for the first time--it instills a feeling of pure love you will carry with you through the many years to come.

The second day will occur eight or nine or ten years later. It will be a day like any other. Routine and unexceptional. But, for a surprising instant, you will look at your longtime friend and see age where you once saw youth. You will see slow deliberate steps where you once saw energy. And you will see sleep where you once saw activity. So you will begin to adjust your friend's diet--and you may add a pill or two to her food. And you may feel a growing fear deep within yourself, which bodes of a coming emptiness. And you will feel this uneasy feeling, on and off, until the third day finally arrives.

And on this day--if your friend and God have not decided for you, then you will be faced with making a decision of your own--on behalf of your lifelong friend, and with the guidance of your own deepest Spirit. But whichever way your friend eventually leaves you---you will feel as alone as a single star in the dark night.

If you are wise, you will let the tears flow as freely and as often as they must. And if you are typical, you will find that not many in your circle of family or friends will be able to understand your grief, or comfort you.

But if you are true to the love of the pet you cherished through the many joy-filled years, you may find that a soul--a bit smaller in size than your own---seems to walk with you, at times, during the lonely days to come.

And at moments, when you least expect anything out of the ordinary to happen, you may feel something brush against your leg—very, very lightly.

And looking down at the place where your dear, perhaps dearest, friend used to lay---you will remember those three significant days. The memory will most likely be painful, and leave an ache in your heart---As time passes the ache will come and go as it has a life of its own. You will both reject it and embrace it, and it may confuse you. If you reject it, it will depress you. If you embrace it, it will deepen you. Either way, it will still be an ache.

But there will be, I assure you, a fourth day when---along with the memory of your pet---and piercing through the heaviness in your heart---there will come a realization that belongs only to you. It will be as unique and strong as our relationship with each animal we have loved, and lost. This realization takes the form of a Living Love---like the heavenly scent of a rose that remains after the petals have wilted, this Love will remain and grow--and be there for us to remember. It is a love we have earned. It is the legacy our pets leave us when they go. And it is a gift we may keep with us as long as we live. It is a Love which is ours alone. And until we ourselves leave, perhaps to join our Beloved Pets--it is a Love that we will always possess.

-Written by Martin Scot Kosins, Author of "Maya's First Rose"


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