Saying Goodbye to Carly: A Tribute to the Best Good Dog

I want to thank everyone for their kind words. I know I didn't say a lot about it yesterday, and it was a surprise to most of you because I didn't share that she was sick. The reason why is that I'm not really good with the sad and emotional stuff - I'm an UGLY crier - and, I often don't have the words. I love being positive and enjoying life to its fullest. There are a lot of awful things happening in the world and I don't want to detract from that hard work we have to do. I just prefer to share the happy moments and things that make me laugh. I appreciate that so many of you have reached out to let me know that pics and videos of Carly doggo also brightened your days. 

I adopted Carly less than a year after I graduated college. For me, the adoption marked a milestone of my life's accomplishments: "get a degree, get a job, get a house, get a dog." I named her after Carly Fiorina, whose book I was reading at the time of her adoption. Fiorina was the CEO of Hewlett-Packard (my favorite tech company at the time). Her book, however, seemed a bit whiny to me at the time, although as I reflect now, I wonder if I'd relate to it more given the experience I now have. 

I saw the pup's picture (then named Gretchen) on the adoption places website, but it wasn't real until I visited and she hopped into my lap and laid down, while her blonde half-sister (Helen) ran around the yard like a crazy pup. Gretchen/Carly was an old soul, I felt that immediately and there was a calmness that I liked about that, even though I had thought I wanted an energetic pup. The adoption process was riddled with problems - Carly was sick and so the spaying operation was delayed and someone else tried to steal her from me and then the place wouldn't return my calls or tell me what was going on with my pup. I didn't know her well yet, but I just knew she had to be mine. We finally picked her up, and she got to meet my sister's dog, Lucky, that same day. 

Carly was quiet and kept to herself at first. She didn't bark, growl, wimper, whine for months (not even her famous gurgle). Because she had bare skin on her neck, I wondered if a previous owner had cut out her voicebox. She refused belly rubs and struggled to get away when I tried to hold her like a baby. Then one day, she barked at someone outside from her perch at the window, and I was so excited I may have praised her for it, and she was vocal from then on. 

I'm sure you've seen the bumper magnet that says, "Who saved who?" and that is so true for Carly and I. She was never very cuddly (except the few times she was hurting, like from her spaying operation or when she scratched herself on the table). Rather, she had to be in the room with me, but she would sit on the far side of the couch, or between me and any other person, and she would watch. I used to think she was taunting me, bragging about how independent she was, but I've learned over time she was watching me protectively. What she taught me early on was the importance of companionship. I left a relationship that wasn't fulfilling because I realized she was enough of a companion. 

Carly broke many of the rules of her breeds, chihuahua and dachshund, combined as chiweiner or chiweenie. Literature I read said to walk her for two half mile walks per day. The little pup would run 4 miles with me before getting tired. I distinctly remember a random neighbor mocking her, saying she wouldn't go very far on her little legs, and I promptly informed him she was on mile 3 already, which is a hell of a lot more than he could say for himself. 

She loved our walks and runs. When I took out the leash or said the word, she would jump off the bed or couch, whip around in circles, jump for excitement, and pronounce her exhilaration with the funniest gurgle sound you'll ever hear from a dog. It was more like a loon call than a howl, and it would move up and down the register like a singer warming up with scales.

On the other hand, her hunting instinct from her dachshund side came out whenever there was a fly around, or a lizard, squirrel or cat to chase. One day I awoke to an awful smell in the house,and there were feathers everywhere. The two things didn't seem related until I realized Carly had dragged a dead bird into the house and under the bed. Her chihuahua side came out most when meeting new people. She'd be plenty comfortable around those she knew, or even had known years ago, but she would shake violently if forced to be near a person she didn't know. She'd bark at them from afar and then run away, come back and do it again. If the new person walked away from her, Carly would charge after their heels, but then would cower once they turned. 

A lot has changed in my life over the years, friendships, relationships, jobs, and homes. Carly was there through it all,giving me puppy kisses that make things better when nothing else can. Carly's dark brown coloring lightened as more and more of her face and back turned white with old age. When Jaiman and I moved to Connecticut, we left Carly with my sister for six months for her family to try out being a dog family and to give us time to settle in. I missed her a ton and was so happy to get her back. She flew home with us into the winter wonderland, and she quickly hated Connecticut as much as we did. We moved to Florida, where she loved the beach, but never got over her horrified aversion to water. She found new creatures to chase - frogs! It was always funny when people mistook her for a puppy, because she acted playfully and energetically like a puppy, even moreso as she got older. 

We've barely just moved in to our new home in San Diego, immediately adjacent to a huge park with lots of walking paths and squirrels to chase, and lots of other dogs with their people along the paths. I think that's the saddest part of all this, I mean we've walked a lot since moving here but it's just not enough. What am I going to do now, without my Carly to walk around Balboa Park? It's not as simple as get another dog or walk without one. This was the new home for us, and we were hoping to stay put for a while after moving three times in four years. But, Carly got sick and bloated several weeks ago. She was having accidents all over the new flooring constantly, which was a little frustrating, and she was limping and not wanting to walk at all or eat anything for days. We took her to the vet, and found out she had a mass. They were able to drain the fluids, but she kept leaking after we brought her home, and when she stopped leaking, she got bloated again. She was eating, but only a little, and her rib cage started showing. Her belly was bloated with fluids, but otherwise she was a skeleton with excess skin. She still liked walking most of the time, and her little tail would be waving around cheerily like nothing was wrong. But at home she started cuddling more, and she doesn't cuddle unless she's hurting. Her head was heavy on my arm, she was miserable. 

Since I used to give her my pizza crusts, she would go wild whenever we had pizza, even after I stopped giving her my crusts. So it was only fitting that her last meal be her very own slice of pizza - the whole slice, crust and all. We planned her last day accordingly - first a long walk, then pizza, then cuddles as she went to sleep once and for all. I miss my girl dearly - I know people who have gone through similar losses understand the feeling of the house suddenly feeling empty. On the one hand, she's just a dog, but on the other, she was my baby. I am so used to seeing her when I wake up and when I come home, when I'm in another room and she comes to find me. For 13 years her quirky personality has ticked me off and frustrated me, and motivated me, consoled me and made me laugh. She's just a dog, but I swear I understood what she was thinking, we had conversations just by making eye contact. I knew this day would come and yet I preferred to deny it - she was going to live forever. I knew it was time, and yet, what a crappy time. Not that there's ever really a good time, but still. 

I'm just sad. I don't know what else to say. I'm still going to make the most of life and all of that, and I'll still walk around Balboa Park (although I probably won't chase squirrels anymore - that may seem odd to onlookers). I know I'll adjust to life without Carly dog, and I'll be happy to look back when my memories of her pop up on Facebook. I don't know what else to say, it's just sad. I'm just sad.