It’s like people. Some you feel more connected to than others. And so it was with a dear, little, sweet dachshund named Olive.
She was the first Dachshund in a wheelchair I came to know after publishing my first children’s book about my dachshund Frankie, who was also in a wheelchair. Both Frankie and Olive had Intervertebral Disc Disease (IVDD).
I felt this special kinship not only with Olive, but her loving and devoted “mom” and “dad,” Jill and Eric.
Caring for a special needs dog isn’t for everyone. But when we befriend others who care for these special pups, you seem to form a bond like no other. Jill and Eric, like John and I, had no children. Like our dogs, Olive meant everything to Jill and Eric as a very special part of their family.
Olive made her transition on Monday, August 11, 2014.
Reading Jill’s email that morning that they had made the difficult decision to finally let Olive go, had tears rolling down my face. I felt like, in a sense, I was losing one of my own.
Olive had wiggled her way right into my heart the first time I saw a picture of her that Jill shared with me. I enjoyed knowing how she was doing and seeing updated photos of her as the years passed. I prayed each time something was wrong with her that she would recover. She bounced back each time with amazing and stunning resilience as she battled various issues.
Lastly, I sat in a moment of silence for her, miles away, me in Wisconsin, and she in Kentucky, as I knew her transition would be soon. I prayed she would go peacefully. I pictured Frankie and Joie welcoming her to heaven. I wished dogs never had to die.
I’ve thought about Jill and Eric often these past few days. I can’t get them out of my mind. I share in their heartache. I know the pain well, as do scores of many others who have loved, and lost, a beloved pet.
I know there is nothing I can do to ease the pain. I know each of us grieves in our own, unique way. I know, as was for me, that time does dull the pain, though you never, ever forget.
I think about all the beautiful lesson’s Olive taught Jill and Eric. I think about how they are forever changed. I think about how their hearts expanded beyond measure for having Olive in their lives.
And then there is the love. The unconditional love Olive has for Jill and Eric. It remains. It will never leave. It will be there to call upon when the pain comes in yet another wave. The memories that eventually will heal the heart to smile again. To love again. These are the things that I pray for Jill and Eric.
And it is only in taking a small step each and every day, that moves you through the grief. That, and the picture that stays embedded in their hearts of a little dog in wheels who loved life with everything she had.
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I shall not say goodbye to you my little furry friend, Olive… but know that it will be a glorious day when I see not only all my beloved pets, but you too, who I thought the world of.
