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Betsy is eight years old - a Hound mix who was found, along with her twin, Brigid, by a hunter in a cornfield in November of 2000. “The girls,” as we called them, were never adopted because no one wanted two dogs. Three years ago, Brigid started to dramatically lose weight. After blood work (among other tests including x-rays and urinalysis), the vet determined that Brigid was in throes of renal failure. All told, it’s not a painful disease, but it is terminal. Initially, we were worried about Betsy’s response to losing her sister because she and Brigid were inseparable--like peas and carrots. When it came time for us to let Brigid go, the vet came and sedated her first. Betsy sat beside us, watching, shifting about and half-heartedly wagging her tail close to her body indicating anxiety. She knew something was up. We gently reassured her, as well as Brigid, that it was going to be okay. Betsy laid down as Brigid became quiet, relaxed from the sedation. Then it was time. The vet administered the pink solution intravenously and Betsy rested her head lightly on Brigid’s back. A deep breath from Brigid and then she left us. We left them alone and Betsy lot seemed to know her sister was gone. It took awhile, but Betsy got up and we moved Brigid into the back of our truck. Within a couple of days, Betsy’s instincts led her to join Duchess’ adopted brood (including Greta and Garth). To this day, she is happy, healthy and well loved. She and Ellie have developed a significant friendship, too. In fact, it seems that in some ways, Ellie has become a sort of surrogate sister. They play and wrestle together, even sleeping near each other. Ellie was the one who initiated the interaction and Bets didn’t hesitate to enthusiastically respond. Animals show us that we can heal from any traumatic experience without bitterness or pathos - from losing a limb to losing your mate. The alternative is bleak, lonely and a bit too misanthropic for our taste.
