Life After I "Dew"

Last Thursday we said goodbye to our first fur baby, Casey.

She was with us for all of life's major moments.  Jimmy got her before he and I met and in her twelve years she partied with him on OSU campus, moved to nine {or so} different houses, welcomed a fur sister {Chanel}, got a mom {me}, helped us welcome two babies home, and went on countless adventures {including a week long "vacation" she took by herself a few years back}.

She was truly the definition of a good dog.  She was so calm and mild mannered and I distinctly remember asking Jimmy, "Do you get this dog high?" when I first met him because she was that mellow.  She would never cause harm to anyone except the occasional mole in the yard.  She was more of a "loner" in the sense that she didn't require a lot.  She was perfectly happy just being around you but didn't need a lot of extra attention.  She loved our babies and tolerated them climbing on her, petting her and pulling her long, wispy hairs around her ears.  She never jumped or barked unless prompted by the other two dogs.  Anyone, and I mean anyone, who had the opportunity to meet Casey loved her almost immediately.  One of Jimmy's best friends even said, "Man, I like Casey more than I like most people."

While she was old in age she was young at heart.  Always happy to go out to the farm and run for hours with her dog brothers and sisters.  She loved going camping with us.  Her favorite words to hear were, "Casey, wanna go on a car ride?"  Her pleasures in life were very simple, which I loved about her.  She was in good health, minus her recent leaky bladder "situation" which we had finally gotten under control.

Her death was unexpected and tragic last week and, unfortunately, it wasn't due to her old age or health.

We live out in the country with one acre of property and another 30ish acres of farm land directly behind our house.  We have one neighbor, that is it.  Last Thursday I let Casey out before I laid James down for his afternoon nap.  It was near 90 that day so I didn't want her out very long.  Once I got him in bed I expected her to be at the back door waiting to come in but she wasn't.  It wasn't that alarming because Casey loves to sunbathe.  I can't tell you how many times I've looked out our window and thought the worst because she was just basking in the sunshine and heat {girl after my own heart}.  I did a few more things around the house before I looked for her again and, again, she wasn't there.  I called for her one more time, bribed her with treats, expecting her to come running.  Again, she didn't.  The kids and I had played hide-and-seek that morning so I thought she could have been shut in one of the bedrooms or the basement so I checked every room of our house, including the bath tubs {where I have found her "hiding" before}.  She was nowhere to be found.  I put my shoes on and headed outside to look for her, assuming she was probably "laying out" again.  But when I turned the corner to walk down our driveway to the front yard I knew she had sun bathed for the last time.

At 3:13 I saw our precious pup laying lifeless in the front yard and my heart sank. I didn't know what to do, who to call, what had happened.  I just started screaming, crying, shaking, pacing.  It was the most surreal moment of my life. I am thankful my in-laws live so close because my mother-in-law made it to our house within 10 minutes of my frantic phone call.

Since our dogs were old in age, I imagined how this day would go many times.  Jimmy and I had talked about what he wanted me to do because chances were good that I would be the ones home when something like this happened.  Nothing, and I mean nothing, could have prepared me for that moment.  Calling my husband, who happily answered the phone, and saying, "Hi...Umm...Casey's dead" was nothing I ever wanted to do.

Our initial assumption was that she was hit by a car.  It made sense, she was close to the road, there
were skid marks in the street.  She had what Jimmy called "a bullet hole" size hole in her belly and her back leg was broken.  Friday morning, however, I woke up to a gigantic pile of dog poop placed on our back deck by someone.  This pile of poop was too large to have been from one of our dogs and it had grass and weeds mixed in, but not in a digestive way.  Suddenly the bullet sized hole was starting to become a piece to the puzzle.

Casey's death and the poop on our deck are no coincidence, they are related.  Our theory, which the sheriff fully supported, is that apparently Casey had pooped in the neighbors yard {unbeknownst to us as we have NEVER been approached by them about this "problem"}.  In an effort to "scare" her he shot her/at her.  Casey is gun-shy so she would head for the hills if she heard a gun shot therefore she ran into the street, scared, and ultimately got hit by a car.  The poop being placed on our deck is the sickest thing of all, as if to say, "You know what happened to your dog?  Here's why."

As I said, we have filed a police report but so far that is it.  Unfortunately, for now, we still have to live next to this psycho so we didn't want to take it any further by starting an investigation with the dog warden for our own safety.  We are, however, going to be meeting with our realtor next Wednesday about putting our house up for sale.  We no longer feel safe in our own home.

Casey didn't deserve to die this way, that's the hardest part.  She deserved one of those amazing final days.  She should have had one last car ride, one more romp at the farm, one more bite of deer jerky.  We are all completely heartbroken over this and this will take a long time to heal from.  No dog will ever be able to replace her, she was truly one of a kind.