When I woke up early this morning, I was alone in bed. I went downstairs and saw Jon sitting on the living room floor wrapped in a quilt with Izzy’s head on his lap. Over the past year, Izzy had become my dog as much as Jon’s. But on the last day of his life, Izzy wanted Jon. You could see the love and trust pass between them. I imagine Izzy was looking at Jon in the same way he did years ago, when he decided to be Jon’s dog.
Izzy was my dream dog. The kind of dog I’d always wanted but somehow never had, maybe I didn’t think I deserved to have such a great dog. I started taking him into my studio about a year ago when Frieda became Jon’s writing dog. He was perfect for me. He would find a corner in the studio and sleep while I worked. Once or twice a day I would look down and see him staring at me. We would snuggle for a while ( I always felt like he knew I needed a break) then he’d go back to his corner.
I never had to worry about him, he didn’t barked at the mailcarrier and if the UPS man came to the door, Izzy was happy to see him. When we went for a walk or did yard chores, I never had to worry about him running off. He was always there, paying attention but not needing constant attention.
Izzy had become my dog. That’s how I knew there was something wrong with him when, on Monday, he slept too long under my desk and had a hard time walking on the path and I felt the strange lumps under his chin. When we found out he had cancer I had no doubts that he should suffer as little as possible and it was best to let him go. And I knew he shouldn’t be cremated, but buried in the shade garden in the front yard where he loved to sit. When I planted the flowers on his grave, I felt so good about being able to do these things for him. I’ve always seen Izzy as a spirit dog and believed he’d have a smooth transition from this life to whatever comes next. I cried for the three days before he died knowing that death is the most natural thing in the world and thinking I would find some relief when he was no longer in pain and knowing that we had done everything we could for him.
But now, after all that, I still can’t stop crying. Because Izzy opened something up in me when I finally allowed my self to have and love the dog I always wanted. And now he’s gone and I’m wide open, feeling emotions I’ve never felt before and don’t have words for.
110 thoughts on “Izzy, My Dream Dog”
Maria , the picture Of you cradling Izzy was just heartbreaking . I have cried all week for all of you , you express yourself so beautifully , Izzy was an extraordinary spirit dog . Peace and love to you, I am so sorry for your loss , so quick , and soon after Rosie.
My heart is cracked wide open, Maria and I share your grief. I loved Izzy and will always be grateful to you and Jon for sharing his beautiful soul with the rest of the world. Diane
Last year I knew my heart and soul would die
Thanks you Myra for your beautiful story.
If I lost one of the two daughters I adore to a terrible accident.
I could not fathom such a loss for until they entered my life
I had never truly committed myself to love.
Have you ever watched one yo love struggle to live?
There is so little you can do – sit at the bedsider –
Clear the spittle from the trach – rub the legs that can’t be used
Mosten the lips – feed the broth – the pureed food-
Read a book to her that makes you cry and see her reach
to pat your hand – which breaks, breaks, breaks your heart.
The book I was reading was the one about Lenore and Izzy and hospice.
My daughter has made a miraculous recovery and her spouse and Miranda the Labradoodle have helped her overcome her traumatic experience. Thank you for all the deeply moving books from Bedlam Farm.
for me, Border Collies are angels come to earth. I was lucky enough and blessed to have three wonderful Tricolours. I’ve been crying the last few days since I heard about your loss.Izzy was a dog in a million.
It’s so deep, and saddening, when we have to say good-bye to our pet, and like Izzy, you had gotten so close to. Let the sadness in, feel it…it is good to do this, I have found. Even today, I miss my precious dog, Stubby, we had to put down back in 2003. I love to sit and think about her, sometimes shed tears too. Then, it is easier to go on. I miss our Shaelyn, we put down only two years ago. It’s like a loving embrace with them, to remember how much you loved them, and miss them. You are entitled to feel this, Maria. Love to you, and Jon on this journey, and the next chapter to your lives with a new dog, and the New Bedlam Farm. 🙂
I’m so sorry about Izzy. I’ve cried all week. Thank you so much for sharing this wonderfully beautiful creature with us. You’re entitled to grieve as long as you want. I know his spirit will be with you always.
Maria, I am so glad Izzy was in your life. I have followed him through Jon’s work and was so happy to see him in your studio. I am crying for him, but I KNOW you both gave him the best life he could have. I also believe he reached his potential and had a purpose in this material world. Bless all of you. Peace. Donna from New Jersey
and….Izzy opened something in me…and I am crying as I type this. And will, I am sure, in the future, as I do for all my dogs long gone..and the part they had in my life, and I, hopefully, in theirs.