Remember the story of Margaret & her dog Echo?
Echo is an older dog suffering from cancer who’s slowly losing memory of his family.
Margaret was in a dilemma and wanted YOUR opinion on what she should do: put him down or let him live.
On behalf of Margaret, I just want to say THANK YOU for all those kinds letters, emails, and even packages to help
To be exact, we’ve received 244 responses and passed them to Margaret.
Here’s Margaret’s aftermath story:
Dear PawshPal and everyone from PawshPal community who’s written to me
I just want to say, from bottom of my heart, THANK YOU.
Your kind words and supportive advices have given my family a huge comfort.
Last Friday night, my family, including Joanne, got together and prayed for the first time in years.
We had a very comforting meal. Steak, mashed potatoes, and some green beans.
And Echo got the same.. for his last meal.
In fact, we probably gave him more than we should have, but it was his last do we didn’t mi. “gnd spoiling him.
Surprisingly enough, Echo had an unsually good appetite.
He finished every bite that was in his bowl.
Then we took him for a long walk.
The path that he’s been walked for the last 5-7 years.
It took him about 3 times longer than usual.
Not because he seemed tired, but he stopped by each of his “pee stations” and took extra time sniffing them.
As if to say.. “good bye friend.”
But one thing I noticed, he had this unusual sense of calmness.
There was a neighbor’s dog on the way that he would always get into a barking match with.
But this time. He was cool and calm.
I know this may sound far fetched but I think he knew this was his last walk.. like he knew that this was his last day with us.
After the walk and another half hour of hugs, kisses, and petting from the family in the living room, we decided to go to the vet.
For some strange reason, every time we went to the vet in the past, Echo had 6th sense of where we were going and would resist getting into the car.
But this time, he did not resist.
He seemed mentally ready for what was coming up.
During the entire ride to the vet, Joanne (my daughter) cried quietly in the backseat while holding onto Echo.
I looked at Echo and Joanne through the back mirror, but held back my tears.
I wanted to show Joanne and Echo that I had it “under control”, but I didn’t.
I was a mess on the inside.
That 20 minute ride felt like 20 days.
I wanted a sign from God…
“God, give me a sign to keep Echo and I will keep him. Blow out my tires. Let the engine fall out. Let the vet be out of office. Show me something!”
No.. it was as if the universe’ plan was unfolding as it was supposed to.
There was no “divine” sign.
Once we got to the vet, the vet sat down Echo on the table.
The vet and her assistant had put blankets over the table so that it wouldn’t be too cold for Echo.
Before the procedure began, we as family had one final moment with Echo.
THis is when even my husband started to cry.
Followed by Joanne.
I tried as hard as I could.. but I burst into tears as well.
AS we stood there crying over Echo, Echo looked as if he wanted to say to us:
“It’s ok. I’ve served my time here. Thank you for letting me be your dog. Letting me be part of your family. But now it’s time for me to go.”
And the next few seconds after that was a blur.
I recall the vet coming in.
I recall a shot going into Echo.
Then I recall Echo closing his eyes very very slowly, and never opening them again.
On our way back, I looked back and saw Joanne, but not Echo.
ONly thing I could see are images of Echo in the car from my memory.
How he loved to stick his head out the window..how he would joyfully pace back and forth every time we would near home… how we would love to lick my face while I was
still driving… how he would rest his head on leg on long drives..
I’ve never experienced a death of my own dog.
To know that I will never see one of the greatest joys of my life is indeed one of the most defining and saddest moments of my life.
They say when everything seems completely dark, that’s when light begins to shine and you begin to see.
2 hours after we got home, my sister called me. It turned out her neighbor, who works as a volunteeer at an animal shelter, happened to come across 2 golden retriever
puppies that are in need of a loving home.
They asked if we could adopt one.. or if possible, both.
Perhaps Echo is watching and looking out for my family from above.
Maybe Echo wants us to be with another dog.
Maybe Echo came back to us.
Right now, our family is not certain if we’re ready to adopt so quickly.. as we have not completed our “mourning” phase for Echo.
But we are very open to it, as it will help us heal from this long fight against Echo’s cancer.
Regardless… once again, thank you and the rest of the PawshPal community for reaching out to us.
Your words more than kind.
I will forever be in gratitude for your “group hug”
When we started PawshPal, we NEVER thought we would reach people like this.
Let me echo what Margaret has said: THANK you for being such awesome members of the PawshPal community
Here’s a compliation of some (not all) of the responses we have received on half of Margaret.
(We took the ones that we thought were the most descriptive and thoughtful.)
- Pamela Harrison
- Yoca Taveras
- Heather Pye
- Dianna Wolfe
- LeAnne Plaisance
- Beverly Boyd
- CJ Willis
- Debbie Cebel
- Linda Betances
- Louann Frost
- Kathy Johnson
- Renee Rubin
- Stephanie Talstra
- Judith Knight
- Christina Weins
- Pat Sharkey
- Ann Marie Tinkler
- Ginny Showman
- Cher F.
- Debby Hoyman
- Sherry Boyer
On behalf of Margaret and Echo as well as the rest of the PawshPal community, thank you from bottom of our hearts.