THE GIFT OF CLARA--FAREWELL MY GIRL

MY CLARA 

It has taken me a week to be able to write her farewell.   She was part of my heart.  

Clara was in a shelter near me last December.   She was in a foster home with the shelter because she was so small.   They knew she needed medical care and let her come to our rescue. 

I took her to my vet and when she was taken back for bloodwork, she was gone for awhile.    Little did I know that they all fell in love with her, and she was dressed up in a little Santa outfit and she was beautiful!  

Clara was 8 1/2 pounds, at the most.  She was a tiny thing.

I found so many outfits that fit her--

Starlight was a small one (11 pounds), so some of her things were good for Clara.   

She was in rough shape, but she still could climb the steps to the couch.

And she loved to get on the side table! 

That was my coffee!   I finally had to put something there to block her from climbing.

Little boards across doorways didn't phase her-- she couldn't get over them....

So she barked at me!

"What are you doing?"

Her mouth was a mess and she had trouble staying warm.  Extra layers worked.

She celebrated Christmas with us.

She liked the warm fire.

Everyone was good with her (even Paddington).   Minnie is about 13 pounds and you can see how small Clara was next to her.  I could easily hold Clara with one hand.

She was a little princess.

She ate well, soft food, until we could have her dental done. 

She guarded the door for us.

And the winter weather, and heaters made her hair fly-away.

I had so much fun dressing her up. 

She was a good sport about it.

She loved to cuddle in the blankets.

And photogenic!!  She was that!

Stewart knew she was there-- he was so sweet. 

Looking back on these pictures, she looked wonderful, her head straight, full of energy.  She was about 13 years old we think.

A friend sent her head bands and I put one on her.  It didn't last long. 

She had a few little carry bags another friend sent.   

Such fun dressing a tiny girl.

Her eyes began to be bright.

She kept her eyes on me.  If I moved, she followed me.

We could go out front, she wasn't going anywhere and she wasn't fast. 

She rolled all over the grass.

We even found a four leaf clover! 

She was always watching me.   During the first two months I had her, she went lots of places with me.   We bonded.

I don't know what her history was for her life, but I know she had been adopted from the shelter four years before and then returned.  The owner could no longer care for her.   (She had not been to the vet that entire four years.)

She had her dental in January and lost all but two of her teeth.  I fed her wet food, but after her mouth healed, she could eat anything, and she did!

One day in February, she wasn't okay.   Something was not right. 

Her head was tilted, and I thought "vestibular syndrome." 

I kept her close.

After evaluation, and consulting with a specialist, the vet said she had a brain tumor. 

She began treatment to slow it down.   Sometimes, just to get her to drink, I gave her liquified baby food.   She loved it.   I held it so she could drink it easily.

She rested a lot more.   Her tongue hung out the front of her mouth--

Later her tongue hung out the right side of her mouth, a sign that the tumor was progressing.  

We sat like this a lot.   

 She wanted to be close, and I held her a lot.   

Her tiny body would melt into me and she would relax.  

As time went on, the head tilt got worse. 

It was obvious when I looked back at pictures from earlier.

Her head was straight-- but the head tilt got worse and worse. 

As I looked back, she was bright eyed....

And beautiful.    This is one of my favorite pictures of her.

I carried her more.

She was more lethargic as time went on. 

When we went out, she began to stumble, but I was right there to help. 

And she was still "my girl"-- happy and watching me.  My vet told me that Clara hung on much longer because of the closeness we had.  She didn't want to give up.  I didn't either.

I learned how to give her sub q fluids.  She needed them several times a week and at first, I was terrified of doing it.   But, a sweet friend, Michelle, told me I couldn't mess it up!  So, I learned, and I got pretty good at it.   Later, I did them every 2-3 days.  

Clara was a perfect little patient while I did it.  My friends, Tim and Colleen said, "Clara sounds like such a sweet girl.  I am always amazed at how caring for them can elevate us to things we never thought possible."  It's so true. 

Another friend, Kathi, sent her plush beds that she could be comfortable in.  (I've been blessed in getting to know such wonderful people!)  

Clara was NOT in pain.  I would never have allowed that.   She watched me, she followed me in her determined way.

The last week-end, she declined.  I could tell she was getting tired. 

She seemed to be working harder to breathe.   My vet is open all the time, but I wanted her favorite vet with me as we let her go.   Clara was letting me know it was time.

She was still watching me-- she never stopped.  I held her so much, her head under my chin.  Her right eye began to dip down into her head, and I could see the white part.  It didn't blink as much. 

In her own way, she let me know that even though she loved us, she was ready.   I wasn't.

We went to the vet and I was able to go in with her.  They had everything ready for her. 

Dr. Meador said she was starting to go into respiratory distress-- which I had thought.  If we waited, respiratory failure would have begun.   The struggle would have been bad, and I wasn't going to let that happen to her.  She was my girl.  I loved her.

When it is time, it is unselfish when we help them leave us.  It is kind to let them leave, in our arms.   I held her the entire time.   When it was over, I put her collar on my purse.  As Dr. Meador carried her away, we were talking a moment.  She was holding Clara in her arms.   At the last moment, Clara's face fell toward me, as if she was giving me one last look.  I caught my breath.  It was a gift.   

Clara was with me for 7 months.  She taught me strength and love and perseverance.   We shared loved and trust with each other.  She had become part of my heart and even if she had not developed a brain tumor, she was mine.  Forever.  

I wish I had had her for her entire life-- but I'm glad I had her for the seven months I did.   She changed me-- those of you who are blessed with a heart dog know what I mean.   Kai Kai was my heart dog and then I had Clara.  I love them all-- but Kai Kai and Clara were special.  Clara was mine.  I was so lucky the day she came into my life.  Thank you all for loving her, too.  💜⭐