Reflections on the anniversary of my father’s passing
Friday, March 28th, marked the 15th anniversary of my dad’s death in 2010. In February of that year, after a month of turmoil for us all, he was finally settled into the nursing home after leaving his assisted living with a short stay in the hospital. He’d begun attending the events and, as always, enjoyed the music. My sister Gail said she’d had a nice visit with him, taking him for a walk around the grounds and spending time sitting and talking outside.
It was a Sunday, when I received the call from the nursing home to tell me he had passed away. He was sitting in bed eating breakfast when someone walked by, and when they walked by again, he was slumped over. Just like that. Gail and I contacted the funeral home then headed there and sat with him for a while. It was Palm Sunday and the home left a frond in his room that I took and have in a box with my parents personal belongings.
After my mother died, my father carried on. He was 63 and still working in the facilities department at Gaylord Hospital in town. He really loved that job! He was such a people person, he was an awesome painter and wall-paperer, my sister Gail worked there, and the Farms Country Club was next door so he’d look for golf balls during lunch or hit some balls.
He loved “his girls”, his grandkids, golfing, and riding his bike. During my 8 years in California, he visited both with my sisters and by himself and I never had to entertain him. He’d take off for the day on my bike or head to the golf course in town.
I won’t go through the litany of health ailments starting with his 1996 knee replacement, but they were enough to slow him down and significant enough that he was not able to live on his own after 2000. After that, it felt like from late January until April, he, and we, were dealing with one health issue or another.
paternal grandfather Charles JakielaAntonia Jakiela with John
What do I think about? I think that he didn’t want to leave his girls alone. I think that he wanted to be with us, to be our dad for as long as he could even if that meant fighting through whatever pain he had. I may sound crazy, but I think after 22 years and 51 weeks my mother said, “Honey, they’re going to be fine, come home” and with that, he went home.
Tuesday, with the assistance of Beloved Companions, we ushered our dog, Wally, over the Rainbow Bridge. His health was failing over the last two months and Mark and I decided (finally) that it was time to let him go.
Let me tell you the story of Wally…
It was May 2012, and our 14 year old cat, Chuckie Finster Benson passed away. I’m not even a fan of dogs, but I started looking at adoption and shelter sites, and commenting or sharing their pictures. People started asking me when I was going to get a dog. There was no turning back!
One afternoon, July 27th to be exact, I took a trip to the Meriden Humane Society and said, “I want to look at small dogs”. A worker brought me outside to the dogs in their cages. I took pictures of 5 or 6 dogs all eager and excited to see me and show off how fetching they were. Except for one. A black and brown and white chihuahua / terrier mix. He just would not look me in the eye!
Wally at the animal shelterWally showing his other side
I went home and showed Mark, Cody, and Emily the pictures. Guess which dog they wanted to visit? Wally!
We picked a day for everyone to visit. They brought Wally out on a leash and we all hovered over him, petting and admiring him.
Wally giving the best performance of his lifePick me! Pick me!
The deal was done! We had ourselves a dog. The shelter didn’t know his actual age but put it at 2 or 3 years old. His back story was – he was “found” by a woman in Wallingford who brought him to the Meriden shelter claiming that the Wallingford one was closed. So they named him Wally. It’s not a nickname for my town that I will EVER use, but it worked him.
We brought Wally home a few days later. It’s not quite the level of bringing home a baby, but still pretty scary!
He immediately latched onto Mark as his favorite person. He had a lot of love for my daughter in law Emily, and my niece Jessie. He merely tolerated me because he would probably sense I was not totally comfortable around dogs (childhood trauma from neighborhood German Shepard) but we managed to co-exist.
He didn’t tolerate affection. Scratch his head a few times, but watch for the lip curl, followed by the growl! Always watch his face! He was happy to curl up next to you in a chair, but don’t try to move! He’s be growling if you tried to shift position. The running joke over the years when people came to visit was “don’t pet the dog!” Or, “just ignore him”. You just didn’t know his expiration period for petting.
It was a great situation for us because our business’s office was the room over our garage. Wally would come to work with us and hang out in his bed, eating treats in abundance and having his play yard nearby. Of course, there was always time for play inside too!
Wally at Work
A friend who owns an animal rescue farm in Bethany can communicate with animals and as a fund raiser will meet with owners and their pets. Of course, we brought Wally to visit her! We learned his original owner was short like me and was very cruel. She thought he would be a “pocketbook pet” that she could carry around – but she got that wrong! Wally “told” Kathleen that he felt like part of the family at Christmas. He showed her people’s legs and food, and wrapping paper. It only made us love him more. But, alas, he told her I tried too hard! I just wanted him to love me!
We were blessed that our brother in law owns a dog kennel and in the early years he would go there when we traveled. He got such great care there! But as he got older, we had a dog sitter come and stay with him. I did enjoy having someone stay in my home while we were away.
Wally at the Holiday Pet Lodge
Wally had the run of our back yard. Although it’s not fenced in, he never made a run for it. Only once when he was young and chasing a squirrel. But after that, he never even went in the front yard. Most of the neighbors had fences so we benefited from them. His “friend” Enzo, lived on the other side of one of the fences. And they would run back and forth barking like crazy and then Wally would suddenly stop and walk away like he couldn’t be bothered. He was so funny to watch.
Wally in his back yard adventures
Wally stopped going up the stairs to our bedroom a year or so ago after he tumbled down them. They are steep and they probably looked like Mt. Everest to him! He was content to sleep in one of his two beds. He managed the few stairs from the yard to the back door but 6 months ago, we built a ramp for him to get up and down. He gave up his walks through the backyard and did his business on the gravel.
In his last few months, he slept more throughout the day but continued to eat heartily, poop and pee, and stand directly behind us when we were in the kitchen. He still had his 2 beds (one in the front living room, one in the family room), and he’d be in one at night and the other when we came downstairs in the morning.
Wally in his last few months
It became obvious a few weeks ago that he was not doing well, but how do you make that decision?! Why, oh why couldn’t he do it for us? We called Beloved Companions in New Britain CT and they arranged for a mobile veterinarian to come to our home to guide Wally over the Rainbow Bridge.
On Tuesday, March 5th, Dr. Melissa with Co-Pilot Veterinary Care arrived and we knew we couldn’t be in better hands than hers. She was kind and respectful, and explained the process to us. For those who know Wally, my husband put a blanket over Wally to pick him up so she could administer the sedative. When he was groggy, we put him in his (3rd) bed in the sun at the sliding door where he would stand when he heard our cars pull in the driveway. I sat by his head and petted him throughout the process. After his final shot, it was five minutes or so before he passed.
Melissa took him back with her to Beloved Companions for his cremation and we picked him up the next day.
Wally’s cremains and footprint
Wally was never an active dog in his time here. He’d run around outside but he didn’t play with toys and even my husband could only play with him so long before he’d give the lip curl and give a “grrrr”, like he’s saying “ok done!”. But he’s gone. I have more time in the morning since I’m no longer, replacing pee pads and making breakfast, but it’s because he’s gone.
There is something that kept my spirit up in the last two months…. Remember my friend who communicated with him shortly after we got him? I have a cousin of a cousin who is also intuitive who lives in a house at the rescue farm and she has taught him how to communicate as well.
In January, I was attending a psychic/wellness event at my cousin’s studio and Craig was there. As we talked, he asked me out of nowhere, if I still had my dog. He had never met Wally and has never been to my home. During our conversation, he told me Wally knew he could be an ass, and he knew he was loved. Wally said he was going to come back and he would be MY dog, loving me the way he loved Mark all these years. He said his original owner would hit him (in the face), and she got rid of him because he wasn’t the “pocketbook pet” she got him for. Craig said he had some time before he departed (but I knew it would be sooner). I carried those words with me through the final month and they gave me peace.
After Wally passed, I contacted Craig to thank him for his words when we met. His response was: “glad to help. He says he’s okay. Wagging his tail. He understands the decision you made. Was fine with it, he was ready”. “He keeps talking about getting butt scratches.” In our first conversation, Wally told him the type of dog he would be when he came back but Craig didn’t want to tell me. He said it will happen and I will just know this is my dog. When I know, you’ll know!
Graphite Portrait by Bill Fellah of Fellah Fine Art
It's All About Family 