All Dogs Go to Heaven, Right?

I should have called out of work today - I knew better - but the responsible employee in me decided that going to work was best, and that I could come home early after I got all my work done.... Boy do I regret that responsible decision. My beautiful dog Hennessey lost her battle with the bleeding tumors while I was at work. 

I could see it in her eyes and quivering body language this morning. She didn't want to move. At. All. I carried her down the stairs and outside into the cool morning air for her to do her morning business. It was her last time. After she peed, she took two steps and immediately laid down in the grass. I didn't have the heart to force her back in the house so I could continue getting ready for work. I thought that if this was her last day, why not let her enjoy some time outside. So I grabbed our longest leash and  tethered her to the wheel of my T-reg. I went back inside. My heart began to sink. Why was I going in to work? Why? 

I texted Mike about her state; her refusal to move, her moaning/crying out. It was worse than the first instance where I had actually set it up to have her put to rest. She wouldn't eat or wag her nub of a tail. Her hind legs would quiver even while laying down. She was in such a sad state. 

Later this morning Mike and I had chatted and agreed to try and get home early to be with her and figure out our course of action. Sadly, it didn't work out that way... Well, Mike did manage to get home early, but it was too late. She was gone. She passed away all alone, laying on a little nest of a dog bed that I made for her to ensure she was comfortable while we were away at work. 

This isn't the first time I've lost a beloved pet. Years ago while living in the William Henry apartments in Malvern, I lost my cat, Cally. I had her for nearly 16 years and boy-o-boy was It an immense struggle of guilt and heart ache I went through after I lost her. Truth be told, this time around isn't much different... Instead of my beautiful, crazy and loyal cat, this time I'm losing Hennessey. A beautiful, loyal and loving dog. She was nearly 11 years old, and it hurts equally as bad now, as it did then. I wish it was easier the second time around, but it's not. 

Rest in peace, Hennessey, Henners, Henny Penny, Woofers... Say hi to all the dogs in heaven, for me. I'll see you when I see you. 

And to close this out; a thought from Mike that he came about on our way to his dad's to bury our pooch... from the movie Marley and Me.

"A dog has no use for fancy cars, big homes, or designer clothes. A water logged stick will do just fine. A dog doesn't care if you're rich or poor, clever or dull, smart or dumb. Give him your heart and he'll give you his. How many people can you say that about? How many people can make you feel rare and pure and special? How many people can make you feel extraordinary?"

John Grogan