This past Wednesday marked the end of an era. My little dog Dasha left us.
The week started out pretty normal, other than the snow we had on Monday. Don and I took the dogs out, and Dasha romped and played and acted like a pup again. Later in the day Don kept Cooper while I took her for a walk, something else she loved doing. I noticed that she had developed a little infection, but it was something she had had before which was relatively minor. I called the vet to see if I could bring her in to have him take care of it, but he was closed because of the snow.
The next morning I called him again and took her in. He performed the routine procedure and gave her some antibiotics to kill the infection. Soon after we left, she began shaking and acting like she was in a great amount of pain. Back home she vomited several times, so I called the vet again. He said it was probably just stress, but to bring her back later in the day if it didn’t get any better. By that afternoon she was no better, so I took her back in after Don got home from work and was able to keep Cooper. The vet gave her some shots to help the infection, nausea and her pain, but that night she wouldn’t lay down and stood or paced around the house all night long.
Finally on Wednesday morning she wanted to get on the bed, so I lifted her up there. She lay down and barely moved for several hours, moaning pitifully when she did. I wanted to take her back to the vet, but it had snowed again, the roads were covered and I wasn’t anxious to get out in it, especially with Cooper. Finally, I knew she would need to go to the bathroom, so I picked her up and carried her downstairs. When I tried to set her down on the floor, she couldn’t even stand. I got really scared at this point and asked a neighbor to care for Cooper for me and rushed Dasha to the vet. By the time we got there, the vet said she was in shock and said he believed the infection had somehow spread throughout her body, which he had never seen happen before. He said he would try to treat her but didn’t offer me much hope. I had no real choice but to leave her with him, since I had to get back to Cooper. I got to love on her a bit and say something of a quick goodbye, knowing I may not see her again, but time was of the essence in getting her treatment started.
When I got home the vet called and told me that she had died just a few minutes after I left. I was not surprised, but I was heartbroken.
I could blame myself, the snow, the vet or any number of things, but in the days since this happened I have thought about the sovereignty of God. I believe her time was simply up. She had finished the job she came to do. I have recorded the story of how Dasha came to me
here. I think God gave her to me as a gift to walk with me, to be my companion through what could have been a very lonely time in my life. And she did it well. Even after Don and I were married, there was still the sad emptiness of childlessness for several years, and Dasha, and later Nash, helped fill that void.
But now we have a child. And I am no longer lonely. Oh, I am sad – I miss that little dog desperately, but I have been able to see how God was merciful in the timing of her death. We had a fun day together on Monday. She only suffered for one day. I had feared as she aged that I would someday have to make a decision to have her put to sleep, and thankfully, I didn’t have to make that decision. She was growing increasingly incontinent and was difficult for me to care for with a baby too. I’m thankful God waited until I had Cooper to focus on, but it didn’t happen in the crazy early days when we first brought him home or when he was sick in the hospital.
I’ve been reminded of a quote I’ve heard before: “Don’t cry because it’s over; smile because it happened.” I can’t say I’ve adhered to this over the last few days; I’ve shed many tears as I mourn her loss, but I think as time goes on the pain will diminish, and the joy of my memories of the nearly thirteen years I had with her will outweigh the sadness. God was good to give her to me, and I will always be thankful for the time that she was a part of my life.
I'm loving every day of being a mom. Some are easier than others, of course, and some days I am overwhelmed, but I am so thankful to God for the privilege of raising one of His children. Don and I pray daily that we will have the wisdom, strength and health we need to do it well, and are definitely finding it character-building as we seek to be godly role models. 
Life isn't the same as it used to be. Going to the grocery store to get one or two thing is a major ordeal; sleep is much more of a luxury than it used to be, and talking on the phone is no longer a relaxing activity, but our little fellow is worth it all!
