From my mom: Thought I would let you know that Lazy was no better today, and was put to sleep. I went in after work, and they gave me little hope that things would improve. I saw her for a few minutes and it broke my heart to see her, even her eyes had changed color, probably from the steroids.

I could be really upset (actually, I am a little teary) but I called home and found out she was sick last night and at the vet’s office being monitored overnight with an IV. I could be really mad about my parents being shitty dog owners* and leaving her home alone all day AND THEN not taking her to the vet sooner (like the very first second they noticed she was paralyzed). But I’m not. My mom’s e-mail is her way of saying she’s destroyed by the loss of the lazer too. I’m just sad we couldn’t play fetch more time.

Lazy was seriously the best dog-friend/roommate ever. She wasn’t even THAT lazy. I probably wouldn’t have made it to this point in my life if not for her. I’m sure of it. I owe that puppy a lot. From our first day together (Hallowe’en back in ‘96) when she was so small she fit in my dad’s slipper, to jumping down from the back of the couch onto my abdomen when I was recovering from kidney surgery, to the only time she ever went missing: we scoured the neighborhood, only to find her hiding from the sound of fireworks behind my dresser), to our last secret sleepover just last June…she always knew when to sigh in agreement with my exasperation about how shitty the world can be. That’s what real friends do.

This was taken a long while ago. After my first year of university. I’m not sure anyone else ever took Lazy and the monster for w-a-l-k-s. Or did a lot of other things for them, actually. May/01.

Lazy is admiring her puppy-like reflection in the floor and/or searching for crumbs. January/08

Here she is blissing out in 30 degree midday sun. The dog loved being cooked alive. June/08

After having a satisfying roll-about in the grass. June/08

I’m not sure there’s reason to go back home if the lazer isn’t there.

a rifle sits behind her sleeping ear
an echo on the cold wall closest neighbor couldn’t hear
we dug a hole in the fall
so now its a frozen burial
and she’s gone
just before the new year

well i’m gonna build a cross for the spot between the trees
and stick it in firm so it won’t sway in their breeze
well you and i have trouble making up our half-assed minds
but she’d seen 16 years of our kind
and what’s it like when your memories start to freeze

oh and i wonder what it is about dogs and thunder
what they hear coming over the fields
backhouse shelter warm nights in the summer
shaking the ground that you lie under
well i know you’re not here but at least you don’t feel it anymore

and i came to see you on the day that it happened
you said hey sorry sar but i gotta go
and i was trying to read some sorta reaction
it’s something you just can’t show
so i guess it’s time i go

across the snowy barnyard just past the driving shed
a shadow of me in the moon well i was in a movie in my head
this pile of dirt on the ground
will sink when nobody is around
and winter covers everything but everything’s not dead

oh and i wonder what it is about dogs and thunder
what they hear coming over the fields
backhouse shelter warm nights in the summmer
shaking the ground that you lie under
well i know you’re not here but at least you don’t feel it anymore

-Sarah Harmer - Dogs and Thunder

*edit: my parents aren’t shitty dog owners. from thousands of miles away, it’s easy to say i would have done things differently. maybe i don’t know the whole story, but from what i DO know, I wouldn’t have given up on a dog that was healthy one morning and couldn’t move just a few hours later when the only diagnosis i’ve received “maybe it’s just a pinched nerve in her neck.” that’s all. i mostly blame the vet for even encouraging it. that seems odd. i know someone who had their gerbil diagnosed with a tumor, and … i need to let this go.