Simon 1994-2011

Not many times you hear how an animal saved a life.

Simon saved mine.

It was August of 1998, when I met Simon at the Delaware Humane Association. My first husband (we never legally married, but he was my soulmate and we had been together since our early teens) had died in a go cart accident in May. I lost our child I was carrying under horrible circumstances shortly afterwards. I was a lost soul wandering around, with no heading in mind. My dog Speedy had past away earlier in the year. He was 12.

I was alone.

Yes, I had a three year old son at the time. I was emotionally and physically drained. I stopped fighting for him with my mother. I wanted someone to cry with, and a three year old was not that person.

I scoured the SPCAs, petfinder.com, and Delaware Humane Association for a companion. I wanted an Aussie. That was one thing I was actually sure of.

It took three months, but I found him. He was quiet. He would come to the gate of the pen, and just look at me. No barking, no whining. He had these eyes that said, "I really want you to take me home, but I don't want to get my hopes up like I did before." I would visit Simon everyday for four weeks.

Since I lived with my mother I has to convince her to let me adopt him. She finally broke down in the fifth week of begging.

She took one look at him and said no. She said he looked evil, he had wolf eyes. I understand now what she meant. He was a beautiful tick color with an amazing lion like mane.

Simon hated my mother. He did everything to get under her skin. He would pee in the basement and shred her underwear.

God, I loved that dog.

Simon put up with me bringing home all kinds of animals. He knew at the end of the day, I loved him the best.

He had a spot at the foot of my bed. He even knew the phase "to bed." In the last two years, he would sleep on the couch or Chase's bed because he could get up and down without assistance.

We would disobey the laws and run on the beach together all year round. He would run straight into the ocean to get that seagull. Waves would crash over his head and sweep him out. He would paddle faster towards that floating bird.

It was the same at the dog park. He would jump into the lake of Carousel Park and swim for what seemed like forever. He would snorkel near the shore line to get buried sticks in the mud.

He was my partner in crime.

Last week, Simon would disappear for hours. He was no long fighting the other dogs to be the first on out the door. I knew something was up.

Of course this wasn't the first time Simon was in trouble. You ever see that epic dog fail video. Where there is a dog running besides the car, and the other dog inside the car jumps out and tumbles in the grass.

Simon in fact did that twice. Both times to go swimming in retention ponds. That dog loved the water. The fact that the first retention pond was on a horse farm. He loved that one even better; because, after he ran down the horses, he went after the geese.

Speaking of geese Simon held a short job on Back Creek Golf Course. He would spend hours chasing the geese off the course, and swimming in the water hazards.

One of his last brushes with death, was when he decided he want to run the neighborhood from the second floor.

He pushed through the screen at the front of the house. From what I guess he was up there for a little while; because, he pooped on my neighbors side of the porch.

When we came home it wasn't unusual for Simon to be hiding. Sleeping in a comfortable patch of sunlight. I called for him over and over.

I was searching the front room when my neighbor came out to ask me why there was poop on his side of the roof.

He actually thought I threw it up there.

I looked at the "pattern." it was Simon's. I became hysterical. Simon had to have jumped 25 feet to the ground.

All I thought of was he was in a lot of pain dying somewhere.

Sal ran out the house at once and called for him.

I was on the roof scanning the neighbor's yards. Then I saw his head popped up two door down. He walked back to our house on his hind legs.

We rushed him to the vet's office. Simon had not broke anything, but he did tear a lot.

He was wrapped in immobilizers. He pushed himself throughout the house for a couple of weeks. Kinda like a doggie on skis. The vet wanted to put him down. When we were "discussing the options." He looked at me like "I'm not ready. You still need me."

He was right.

I did.

Times became very tough. I was pregnant with complications. After the baby was born I had horrible adjustment issues. Then I was diagnosed with a tumor.

I really wanted to give up. Seeing this old dog's face everyday. Coming up and just wanting a scratch on the head and a meal was good enough for him. Simon made me think. Was it really all that bad? and why would I try to control the uncontrollable?

We stayed home on Valentine's day. That is when I noticed Simon stopped eating. I gave him is favorite meatballs. He stopped at two. He walked up stairs like to say I'm done.

He couldn't control himself anymore. He was using the closet as his bathroom area.

I had to make the decision for him. I call the vet on the 18th of February. Nothing did for him brought enough comfort. I held off the inevitable long enough. I knew I was taking my friend for a one way trip. I let him out the house leash free. He walked right to the van.

He was ready.

The doctor was saying Simon had a large mass on his liver. It had spread to the lungs. Fluid was being exchanged more then air.

My husband left to go get the teen.

It was his dog, too.

The doctor came in a minute later. He said why don't you go take him outside, and enjoy the last of this beautiful day. There was Simon and I was laying a dry patch of grass watching the sunset.






He was so tired. His legs couldn't carry him back to the doors to the clinic.

Or was it the fact that he still did want to go.

I looked at him, and tear welled up in my eyes. I picked him up to carried him. Like many of my hospice patients, he didn't want to go, but he gave no resistance either.

I carried him to the exam room. He was heavier than I expected. Or was that the burden I was carrying for what I was about to do?

I removed his collar. He looked at me like "Ok. I guess it's time."

He coughed up blood on the table.

I knew this is the decision he couldn't make.

The doc shaved a small patch off him forearm.

He looked forward.

Bravely.

The doctor drew the pink liquid in the needle. He called for help to catch Simon after sedation. He inserted the needle. Simon looked happy for a half second before he was lowered down to the table. The pain was gone.

The doctor administered the last of the medicine to stop his heart.

It was completed.

I know it was the right decision. I didn't want him to suffer anymore. He saved me so many times. I just wanted to return the favor.