My Dog Mac

If you are one of those people who has never had a pet or loved an animal, this is probably a posting you can skip. For all the others, especially cancer patients with pets, you will understand.

MacGregor -- or “Mac” as we fondly call him -- is my dog. He is a rescue Westie and was supposed to be unadoptable for several reasons. He was at least 10 years old, wasn’t housebroken, and apparently did not relate well to people – at least that is how the story goes. He had been left in a kennel for six months. His owners had gone to assisted living. Apparently the dog belonged to the husband, who was a banjo player. Mac wasn’t into female owners. Mac had stitches running diagonally across his belly from when he was attacked by an Australian Shepherd. He would not make eye contact. He was not a trusting dog.

I had several colleagues at the veterinary school at Purdue University. They found Mac and his longtime friend -- an 8-year-old Bichon Frise named “Buttons,” who used to belong to the wife. I agreed to “test drive” (dog sit) both dogs during the Christmas break in 2008. Buttons was definitely a lap dog and quite friendly. Mac was a grump. Carl was not too happy about the dog-sitting situation, but he could see that I was determined to care for the dogs and that was that.

First task completed… Both dogs were housebroken in two weeks – even in the freezing Indiana snow. I was a professor at Purdue University at the time. That’s the only reason I would be living in snow.

As time went on, I noticed that Mac began to quietly growl under his breath at Buttons, when Buttons would jump in my lap. Mac would then scoot closer and closer to me on the sofa. He still was not making eye contact or letting anyone touch his ears or belly.

By the time Carl and I went to our Midyear Conference in California in January, I decided that I wanted to adopt both dogs. Carl was still not over losing our Corgie Sophie and said, “No.” So I negotiated for one dog instead of two. He said I tricked him. LOL. “Which one do you want?” Carl asked. “I want the Westie,” I said. He looked surprised. “That ugly, grumpy dog with the stitches and bloody ears?! No one would want him!” “Exactly!” I said. “That is why I want him,” I replied. And that was that.

Buttons went off to a great home in Chicago to live with the father and sister of my friend Judy. He is happy as pie.

When I was diagnosed with leukemia, I was very fatigued. I remember lying on my back on the sofa and not feeling well. When I woke up, Mac had climbed up on the sofa and was lying on me with his belly touching my torso and his head under my chin. Ever since then he followed me everywhere. I could not even go to the bathroom without him waiting outside the door. We were friends for life. And that was that.

Last Monday Carl and I were packing and getting ready for our vacation in the White Mountains. Part of the ritual was dropping Mac off at the vet’s boarding facility Monday late afternoon. The alarm was set for 5 a.m. on Tuesday, so that Carl could make his golf tee time. The fishing poles and gear were ready for some trout catching.

I woke up suddenly at 4 a.m. with a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. For some reason, I started to cry. I was worried about Mac. I asked Carl if he would be terribly upset if I did not go, because I had to get my dog. This was not like me. Carl was surprisingly understanding, even though he probably thought it was strange.

I waited for the vet’s door to open, and I asked to take Mac out of boarding. They looked a little surprised at my request. I wanted the vet to take a look at him. The vet felt a lump in his belly. The x-rays showed that Mac had recently swallowed 50 stones (30 in his belly and the rest in his intestines). The vet said he was too old for surgery. The only chance he had was to get rid of the stones. I spent the last three days and nights helping him expel the stones from both ends. We were exhausted.

By Thursday the last one came out. Mac was a tough dog, but the ordeal was too much for his old body. I wrapped him in a towel and rocked him. Mac passed away on Friday with me petting his beautiful head and body. Such a truly loyal and faithful friend. May you rest in peace, you old grumpy sweet boy. I will forever be grateful for all the love and happiness you brought to my life. You will be missed more than you know.

Love & Gratitude,

Your MaMa