A story about love...A story about loss...

You know when you get that feeling...that nagging feeling...that something is wrong? You don't know what it is, but you just cannot shake it. It sticks with you for days, and when people ask you, "What's wrong?" you just smile and say, "Nothing" knowing that something is wrong - you don't know what it is yet.

Well, I got that feeling on Friday afternoon.

It came out of nowhere, and I kept telling myself that it was nothing. I was just stressed because I was behind at work, and would have to stay late in an effort to try and catch up.

But it didn't stop when I left work that night, either. It stayed with me all weekend.

On Sunday, while we were having lunch, my mother looked at me funny and said, "Are you okay? You just don't seem very happy lately." I said, "Don't worry, it's nothing," and changed the subject. After all, there was no reason to talk about it. I still didn't know what it was.

Then, Tuesday morning came and I got a phone call at 7:30 AM. I knew the second I heard the phone ring that I was finally about to get the bad news that I had been dreading for days.

It was Toni. My grandmother's nurse. The woman who had adopted Carla two weeks before.

"My puppy died," she said.

I was silent. I didn’t know what to say. I didn't want to believe her. I had saved Carla from death. I had found her a "forever home". It was supposed to be happily ever after. She was supposed to be living the good life now. Carla couldn't be...dead. Not now that her life had just begun.

Toni told me that Carla had died on Friday afternoon. She had wanted to call and tell me, but she had left my numbers at work.

Carla had been fine Friday morning. Toni had feed her, and they had gone outside for awhile so Carla could run around and "do her business". Everything seemed to be normal. Everything seemed to be okay. So, without a second thought, Toni said "goodbye" to Carla and went to work.

When Toni returned home that afternoon, she thought it was strange that Carla wasn't waiting by the door to greet her. While she was putting down her stuff, she saw Carla lying on the kitchen floor. "I thought she was sleeping," she told me. "But when I got closer, I realized that she was dead. I burst into tears and called my son on the telephone. I told him that he needed to come right over. There was something wrong with the puppy."

Toni sat on the floor with Carla until her son arrived. "It looked like she had a seizure," Toni told me. "I don't know why. My house is baby-proof for the grandkids. There was nothing that she could have gotten into. I don't know what caused it, and now she's gone. My puppy is gone."

Somehow I managed not to burst into tears. I could tell that Toni, on the other hand, was struggling hard to fight back hers. She didn't want her to cry in front of my grandmother (she was at work, after all). We were both quiet on the phone for what seemed like several minutes while we tried to compose ourselves.

I had a feeling that I knew what had caused Carla's seizure, but I wasn't sure. So, I started asking Toni about Carla's overall health in the past two weeks. Remember that Carla was sick, and the vet had put her on antibiotics to treat what he had thought was Kennel Cough and a case of the canine flu? Well, Distemper, in its early stages, can look and sound a lot like Kennel Cough. When I first got Gypsy Kitty from the SPCA, she was also diagnosed with Kennel Cough. However, a few days later, Gypsy started having a thick discharge from her nose in addition to her cough (she kind of sounded like a motorboat when she breathed). I took her back to the vet, and that is when he told me the bad news - Gypsy had Distemper.

But Gypsy was one of the lucky ones. She made a full recovery. Looking at her today, you’d never know how close I came to losing her.

Distemper is almost always fatal in puppies under six months old (Gypsy was somewhere between six and eight months when I adopted her). Dogs older than six months have a one in four chance of falling victim to the disease as well. Apparently, the older the pet, the better their chances of survival. Distemper gets into their blood stream and attacks the Central Nervous System. When this happens, they develop seizures and die.

I asked Toni if she'd noticed whether Carla had developed a runny nose in addition to her cough. Toni said she had, but that it appeared to be getting better so she hadn't given it a second thought. “My granddaughter has a cold right now, and has a runny nose. I thought it was just a part of growing up. Carla seemed to feel okay, so I wasn’t worried. I wasn’t worried at all.”

It didn’t really matter. Even if Toni had recognized the symptoms of Distemper, it probably would have made no difference - at least not in the long run. By the time a pet starts showing the symptoms of the disease, it is too late. The only thing a pet owner can do is wait for signs that the illness had affected the brain. It can start out slowly and may be virtually undetectable: the pet may have problems walking, or might develop a facial tic. Seizures generally follow soon after, and will only continue to worsen until the pet ultimately dies.

At least, in Carla’s case, she didn’t suffer for long.

After I hung up, I just stood in my kitchen trying to process everything, wondering if I could have done something to prevent it (coulda', woulda’, shoulda’...). I needed to leave for work, but I was worried that I might start crying (I still hadn't cried yet). I didn't want to face the non-dog-lovers of the world teary-eyed over a dog that I'd only had for a couple of weeks. They'd never understand.

Poor Carla. I know that it is silly, but I really feel that I failed her somehow. It was no one's fault. Maybe she was supposed to die that day in the shelter? Maybe that was the plan. Then, I showed up and adopted her at the last minute. Maybe the last month Carla was living on "borrowed time". I hope she was happy - even if it was all so brief. She finally had a home, and people to love her. Sometimes it all seems so unfair.

Carla did so much good while she was here, though. Toni’s granddaughter had always been terrified of dogs. Carla changed all of that. Toni’s granddaughter fell absolutely in love with her, and even referred to Carla as, “her dog”. “I never thought it was possible,” Toni said, “but she loves that dog. She gets right down on the floor and plays with her and lets Carla lick her face. I don’t know how I’m going to tell her that Carla’s not here anymore. She’s was so bonded to that puppy. We were all so bonded to that puppy. It’s going to be very hard. I just cannot believe that she’s gone. I cried all weekend”.

Toni and her son buried Carla in the back yard, and put a little cross on the site to mark the spot. The little boy that lives next door placed a teddy bear on her grave, so she wouldn’t be lonely.

So, in honor of little Carla, I would like to dedicate a poem. It always makes me cry…

The Rainbow Bridge

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

YOU have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....

- Author unknown

Carla, you will be missed and never, ever forgotten.


Good-night, sweet princess, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!