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Goodbye To My 15 Year Old Chocolate Lab, Hershey
Hershey, 1998 - 2013
You will forever be my Faithful Angel Girl,
and I will see you again.
My Faithful Angel Girl
I first laid eyes on Hershey 15 years ago. We had just moved to our farm, and we were looking for a dog that would not only be a great companion, but good around the horses, too. And so, we decided to visit our local pound. The first dog we saw was a beautiful purebred yellow lab. He was friendly, and healthy, and only one year old. We knew we'd found our dog. But little did we know that we were about to find our 2'nd dog, too.
Just as we were getting ready to leave, I happened to look across the aisle into another cold, concrete cage, and there sat the most adorable chocolate lab pup. She was only 9 months old, and the chain she had broken loose from was still partially attached to her neck. She looked up at me as if to say, "You wouldn't believe what all I have been through just to get here at this moment so I could be with you!" And that was all it took. In an instant, I lost my heart forever.
It's kind of a funny thing how we manage to find the animals we're destined to share our life with. I knew from the moment I saw this little chocolate lab that she was meant to be mine. For the next 15 years, she proved me right. She took every step I did, and never left my side. Wherever I went on the farm, she was there like my shadow. If I was cleaning stalls, she was there. If I was riding horses, she was there. She was always there.
Hershey's presence was so constant that soon I began to wonder if I was entertaining an angel unaware. That's when I began calling her by a new name - my Faithful Angel Girl. And that's what she would be to me for the rest of her life.
This picture was taken in 2010 of me and our yellow lab, Hank, and our chocolate lab, Hershey. Hank passed away in 2011. Hershey would go on to live two more years to the ripe old age of 15.
And So We Say Goodbye, But For Just A Little While
Yesterday (November 18, 2013) was one of the most heartbreaking and gut-wrenching days of my life. I woke up to find Hershey lying in the garage unable to move. How could that be? Just the night before, she had gone with me to the barn to feed the horses. I tried coaxing her to get up. When that didn't work, I tried picking her up and supporting her weight, but that failed, too. I tried tossing her rawhide bone, tempting her with her favorite food, jumping up and down, and praying for a miracle. I tried everything. But it wasn't to be. The vet tried comforting me by telling me that she had already lived longer than any lab he had heard of, and she would let us know when it was time. All morning I watched her, and tried to persuade her to get up, but to no avail. The message she was telling me was clear. It was time.
On the long drive to the vet, I continued to pray that God would intervene. I didn't want to be the one to have to make the decision to put her to sleep. As I prayed, I heard a still, soft voice speak to my spirit, "I have given mankind dominion (authority) over all my animals." (see Genesis 1: 26 - 28)And then I understood. Hershey's life was my responsibility. I had been given dominion and authority over her, and that authority included making life and death decisions.
Finally, we arrived at the vet's office. I sat in the back of my truck with Hershey lying beside me, just like she had done so many times before. Only this time would be different. I stroked her fur, and held her paws in my hand, and the tears kept coming and coming. And then the doctor came out to my truck and gave Hershey a shot to relax her. It really wasn't needed. She was calm, because she knew. And then came the first shot. It was meant to ease her into death, but somehow it failed to do so. Her heart continued to beat. Through tears, I looked at my husband and told him, "She's still breathing. She doesn't want to leave me." And then came the second shot, this time like an arrow straight to her heart.
And she was gone. Gone for now, but not forever.
Goodbye, my Faithful Angel Girl.
I will see you again.
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