She grabbed our emotions from the very beginning in April 2016 and never let go. She was mellow, drawing affectionate pats from neighbors, friends and tradespeople.
Liz and I put Sandy, our beloved Yellow Labrador Retriever, to sleep a week ago. It was the right but wrenching decision. She died peacefully, thanks to the ministrations of Dr. Dean Tyson, a superb Easton veterinarian.
I’ve written before about Sandy, with accompanying pictures. I will miss her greatly. I will now brag about her in the past tense. I will choke up a bit, as I do now.
Her real name was Nor’easter Winds Sands of Time, bred by a couple in Parsonsburg, near Salisbury. After 45 minutes of chatter, with periodic weeping by the woman, her health weakened by several strokes, we left the former owners’ home with Sandy. We could not have envisioned the joy that would come our way by this beautifully white-coated Yellow Lab.
Our lives changed for the better that April 2016 afternoon.
Sandy, who would have celebrated her 12th birthday at the end of this month, was becoming less mobile due to increasingly progressive weakness in her hind legs and non-regenerative anemia. The quality of life for this lovable animal was diminishing.
We watched with distress as she coped with her infirmities. Urging her to get up for walks became more insistent; she seemed content to sit and sleep, seemingly unconcerned about her physical needs until she, and we could not ignore them.
Dogs and other pets improve our lives. They make us better people. We forget ourselves while caring for, and about a being that talks to us by saying nothing, wagging its tail in appreciation and fixing its eyes on us to express emotion, or maybe some longing difficult for us at times to fathom.
Seventy-five pounds with a beautiful white coat, Sandy would endear herself, without hardly trying, to many people. She trusted us two-legged beings to treat her well and respectfully. In turn, she would accept as many pats from strangers as her sometimes impatient owners would allow.
She shed religiously. She left her mark wherever she lay down. I would always alert her legion of admirers to beware if they were wearing dark slacks. Most said, maybe too politely, they didn’t mind wearing part of Sandy’s white coat.
Since Sandy died at the Veterinary Medical Center, I’ve talked with others who have endured the sad deaths of dogs and cats. They still grieve the losses. Time may heal, but not erase the pain.
I doubt we will replace our blessed companion. I’m told our reaction is common. We might change our minds, but I doubt it. Our increasing age is an impediment. Our memory of a pet that seemed so perfect to us is another obstacle.
When Liz and I drove on Jan. 5 to Easton from Annapolis, with Sandy lying quietly on the back seat, we knew we might return to the Western Shore without her. We didn’t voice our thoughts. We chose to keep our impending grief to ourselves. Perhaps we didn’t want to share our stress with Sandy in the car.
Our apartment and our lives are emptier now. Our dog-walking shifts have ceased. Our joy of being the recipient of her attachment to us is gone forever. Our longing for a benign presence embodied in a beautiful, mostly white Yellow Lab will not vanish quickly.
She captured our hearts. We happily submitted to her sweet personality. Sandy is a constant presence in my IPhone’s pictorial album. She will not be deleted.
I’ve never mourned a dog as I have Sandy. She sought food, a few daily walks, a comfortable place to sleep—and consistent love. The latter was an unspoken demand that required little, if any effort and was a joy to provide.
Liz and I felt privileged to share nearly five years of our lives with Sandy. We lovingly cared for her, and she for us.
“If there is no Heaven for dogs, then when I die I want to go where they went,” Will Rogers, the great American humorist, wisely observed. It would be a special place where loyalty is valued, and judgments are disallowed.
Columnist Howard Freedlander retired in 2011 as Deputy State Treasurer of the State of Maryland. Previously, he was the executive officer of the Maryland National Guard. He also served as community editor for Chesapeake Publishing, lastly at the Queen Anne’s Record-Observer. In retirement, Howard serves on the boards of several non-profits on the Eastern Shore, Annapolis and Philadelphia.
Suzanne Brannegan says
Beautiful tribute to you much loved Sandy….now she is in my heart too.
C Paul Cox says
Thank you Howdy for your heartfelt words about Sandy. We were so saddened to hear that she has passed away. We can attest to her wonderful and affectionate nature. Our hearts go out to you and Liz as you mourn her loss. I remember well the aching emptiness a pet’s loss leaves. You both are in our prayers.
Jon Powers says
Just wonderful Mr. Freedlander. Sandy must have been very special to deserve such a tribute. And you as a dog and animal lover deserve our thanks for sharing it. There are several holes in my heart a dog once occupied.
Paulette Lawing says
So sorry to hear about Sandy! She was so sweet and I share your sadness. You were such wonderful parents.
Paulette
Susan says
Howard, so sorry to hear of Sandy’s passing. Our thoughts and prayers are with you and Liz.
The joys
Louisa Griffin says
Much love to you both, with lots of happy memories of seeing you all and Sandy out and about. She always had a wagging tail and a happy grin as she doggedly trundled along. So sorry for your loss, but happy that you three had many happy years together 🙂
Jim Harris says
Pam and I are so sad for your loss but heartened by your tribute to Sandy. No doubt you’ll miss her unconditional love, companionship, and how she made yours and Liz’s life so much richer. We and our herd send our love.
Patti Willis says
Howard and Liz: I’m so sorry. I get it…
Hugs.
Mindy Howell says
So very sorry to hear about Sandy. We loved her at the News Center when she would make her daily visits. She would come in – visit Debbie for treats and then head to the office to find Sharon. Her visits with Liz always brightened our days. Sending love and hugs.
Angela Rieck says
What a sad loss, our pets are our family. And they are family members who loved us at our best and worst. Another life well lived.
Barbara H Perry says
So very sorry for your loss of Sandy. My memory of her goes back to the News Center where Liz and Sandy came almost every day. Sandy knew there were treats in the office for her and while Liz was at the coffee bar, Sandy walked back to the office to get her treat, usually from Sharon our assistant manager who, like all of us, is a dog lover. We once told Liz that we liked seeing her but loved seeing Sandy.
Helen Pritchett says
I too have just made that correct but gut wrenching decision. Sadie was our beloved 12yr old lab who saw Dan and I through his long illness. When Dan died a part of both of us left with him. She like your Sandy gave unconditional love, wonderful memories and a paw print on our hearts. Helen
Phil Foster says
Howdy: I recently had the same experience with a cat (also 12) who has extraordinary. I used to tell people she was more like a dog in her habits, always greeting me when I came home and content to sit nearby when I watched TV. The decision was very hard and, like your Sandy, she was so special that I really don’t feel that replacing her is likely. What distinguishes people from animals, we are told, is that people have souls. I can’t help but believe that there are some special animals that do as well.
Louise Hayman says
Oh, Howard. If only the price of those wonderful years together was not the excruciating sense of emptiness to endure now. Nothing one can say or write helps. Let the tears flow in appreciation for her.