Mekka Mekenna

In the late summer/early fall of 1999, I saw a puppy that one of Kendra's friend's had recently acquired. He was so cute and adorable that I had to get one of my own. So, my sister and I set out to the place they were selling these puppies...the Walmart parking lot in Sherman. They only had two left, a male and a female. I remember it vividly...the male was overly hyper and Mekka was just standing there, wagging her tail. They were tied to the bumper of a truck. We decided on the female. She vomited in the car on the way home, she was in the floorboard of the front passenger seat. I guess she got car sick or was just overwhelmed by the new surroundings/new people. Kendra and I went back to that SAME Walmart and bought a lot of stuff for her, including a new tag. We decided on the drive back to Sherman, to name her Mekka, after a character in a short lived animated show on MTV. I just liked the name Mekenna, and so it fit...Mekka Mekenna.

I remember having to take her out at 5am while my dad was getting ready to go to work. I remember one morning, when my mom knocked on my door, Mekka was soooo protective that she stood on my bed and barked ferociously, then saw my mom open the door and urinated on my bed. This was probably because #1 she needed to go and wasn't let out soon enough and #2 she saw it was my mom.

Fast forward to November 1999, I was involved in a single car accident. By all accounts, I should've either died or been seriously injured but came out unscathed. That exact same night, Mekka began showing symptoms of Parvo. She spent a week in the hospital but recovered. I remember going to pick her up...she was, literally, "bitching" at me the whole way home.

Her "bitching" is a running theme throughout her life, she KNEW how to let us know she was upset and she was ALWAYS accommodated. If there is an art to manipulation, she was the master.

Years went by, my relationship with Mekka grew stronger and stronger. I can remember a time when I began to finally accept myself and had no idea how my family could possibly accept me for who I was/am. She was there. I would tell her that I knew she was my friend and that I knew she loved me unconditionally, she was on my side. She never let me down. She was always there.

(At this point, I just need to say that I KNOW this is a dog, but still)

I met someone, a person that I knew was meant to be. We decided to live together and I left her behind. I missed her, I even stayed overnight at my parent's house one night just for her. I knew I couldn't take her with me. She was a dog that was used to running free on 5 acres of land, living in a house...happy. I couldn't possibly remove her from that to live with me in a small apartment, regulated by a leash and collar. It just seemed cruel.

Days passed into months and months to years. She was always happy to see me. She "bitched" when I would come home. It quickly became apparent that she was getting older, but her tenacity for life was always at the forefront. At Thanksgiving dinner one year, we decided to give her a mild/safe sedative to allow her some form of "ability" to deal with all those people arriving at my parent's home. She didn't react well to that medication. She seized, her heart stopped. Fortunately for us, my aunt Christy, an RVT, was there. We applied compressions to her chest, she came back to us. After that day, she looked older...almost immediately. Mekka never would give up, she continued to provide companionship for a few years.

Mekka eventually succumbed to arthritis. She'd previously endured Wobbler's syndrome, but seemed to make a decent recovery. She became less and less able to walk normally. She was put on medications and seemed to adjust to it. She lost her friend Chase, our Australian Shepherd, on February 18th of this year. At that time, we thought Mekka was deteriorating exponentially...but the evidence left behind were actually those of Chase. After he passed away, she expressed her sadness, as witnessed by my parents. Mekka, wasn't doing as poorly as we thought however.

Days became only months. Almost 2 months, to the day, Mekka was ready to go. Well, I should say, her BODY was ready to go. My sister picked her up at my parent's home and brought her to DVSC. We all knew it was time, but that doesn't make it any easier. I sat with her this morning for a while, mostly trying to calm her down from being "Mekka" aka scared, "bitching". She could no longer walk or hold her bladder. She was a shadow of the dog we once knew...but she was STILL Mekka.

I thanked Mekka today for being there for me when I wasn't sure any one person could. I thanked her for being a best friend and I apologized for leaving her behind. I still feel guilty and will always. It was never my intention to leave her but I felt she would be more happy at my parent's home and WITH my parents...I think she was. She was, and will always be, a good pup. I dread going to my parent's home now, because I cannot imagine going there without hearing Mekka "bitch" at me and giving me that smile.

She's running around now, free of pain, with Chasey Boy and she's happy. I miss her though, always will.

**I thank my mom and dad for taking care of her in her last years. Without them, she would have given up a long time ago. I also have to thank my sister...Kendra was there at the last moment when I couldn't possibly bear it. Kendra was the last person to be with her and I think that's what Mekka would have wanted.

Japan

So most of us have read, seen, heard about what's going on in Japan. It's a terrible, horrific tragedy and, as Americans, we must do our part to help in any way we can.

That being said, I've continued to think about one thing...what if? I mean, Japan is an industrialized nation and, in more ways than one, more advanced than the US. So...what if this happens to us? What if some natural disaster wipes out half the US? I realize many of you may believe that it was some anomaly or fluke incident, however, we keep hearing how Japan is accustomed to earthquakes and has precautions in place for tsunamis. It's been said that the people of that country are educated from birth to expect/prepare for the worst case scenario. So, apparently, this natural disaster has come as a sobering reality...not only to them, but to us. What I'm getting at is this...what if and WHEN will this occur to the USA? What will the people of this country do/react to when half the country is wiped out by natural disaster and we must now rely on foreign assistance? It seems strange...IMO...primarily because we've witnessed major natural disasters in, mostly, un-industrialized countries.

I saw on CNN recently an interview with General Honore, the guy from New Orleans following Hurricane Katrina, and I kept wondering, "WHY are they talking to him?!?" While I understand the comparison of destruction of New Orleans following Katrina and the flooding from the storm surge...there's a distinct difference. We are talking about a country, almost HALF a country...NOT a city...being destroyed by a natural disaster. A country that endured an earthquake (8.9) AND a tsunami...the comparisons are minimal. THIS interview got me thinking, if the United States endured something on a comparable scale...what would be the response?

It is my hope that when something like this happens in the United States, not only will we welcome the assistance but that we are as fortunate as others to have such assistance offered to us.

My thoughts go out to the citizens of Japan, I cannot imagine the toll this is taking on you and yours. May you find some solace in knowing that the United States and it's people are here for you and doing what we can to help.

Chasey Boy

Chase, an Australian Shepherd, came into our family about 6 or so years ago. He was an obnoxious but super sweet little guy and we all loved him almost immediately. Although his "obnoxiousness" could be tiresome at times, he was ultimately a good pup. We "rescued" him, I guess you'd say. There was a family in Coppell that decided they'd rather have a pool in their backyard than a young dog. So they looked for a home, found one but that person wanted an outside dog. Chase, being used to living indoors, would sit outside and cry wanting to come inside. We took him in and, at first, it was a trying experience. See, we already had an indoor dog, Mekka (dalmation). She wasn't uber thrilled at first but she adjusted and grew to love him as well. Best friends.

A little background...as a kid, we always had dogs really but they always lived outdoors. I guess maybe my parents didn't know how to deal with an indoor pet or just weren't willing, either way it was just the way it was and it was ok. After I graduated from HS and after a year in college, we got Mekka (the dalmation), my mom and dad were hesitant at first to have an indoor dog but we all acclimated nicely and she became a HUGE part of the family. A couple years later, here comes Chase...again, he quickly became a member of the family. I moved out several years ago and felt it inappropriate to bring either dog to an apartment. I mean, let's be honest, if you're accustomed to running around on 5 acres of land only to be stuffed into a small apartment, walked on a leash, etc...you'd be unhappy...right? So they live with my parents in Gunter because I KNOW that makes them happy. It's their home afterall.

So fast forward to present day. Mekka is aging, she's going on 12 yrs, which is really rare for a dalmation. She's suffering from arthritis and, essentially, a degenerative disc disease. The meds have not quite helped her as of late and we've been preparing ourselves to make THAT decision. However, I got a call Thursday afternoon from my mom saying Chase wasn't doing well, he was sick.

For those who don't know, I work at a veterinary hospital. I have heard from our clients regarding symptoms running the gamut, from severe to slight. Some even waiting DAYS after those same symptoms begin to even call the vet.

So, my mom tells me that Chase has been vomiting beginning that morning. He's lethargic, drinking water but not eating. So I tell her he needs to see a vet because of possible dehydration and since I'm an hour away, it would have to wait until the morning. I asked her to check all the usual things...temp by touch of ears, nose, gums, etc. He seems to be in not much distress at that point, to me anyway given my experience. My aunt Christy, an RVT, stopped by that night to check him out. His temperature was normal, only slightly dehydrated and not feeling well. So my dad will be bringing him to my hospital the following morning for evaluation, fluids, etc.

Friday morning comes. My phone rings at 6:28am. It's my sister, who works at a veterinary specialists office. I wake up believing she's going to tell me that she's bringing Chase to me so I can take him in once my hospital opens. The words that came from her mouth did not resonate at first, it was unbelievable. "Chase died" she said. I was in shock. I was upset. Denial. I mean how could THAT be the outcome?!?!? HOW?!?!

It still doesn't quite seem real, I mean HE was the HEALTHY ONE! The one that would be mourning our dalmation Mekka!

I later found out that my mom found him dead in the utility room, where he had been confined so water/food could be withheld. According to my mom, she tried to open the door after calling, "Chasey Boy!", but he was in front of that door. She saw blood from his back end...a lot of blood and knew. So, being in the country, you bury your pets. My dad dug a grave for Chase and he's buried at his home in Gunter.

What I can't stop thinking about...Was he in pain or scared just before he passed? I realize this is a dog, but he was a family member regardless and thinking about those things makes me extremely sad. However, Mekka (our dalmation) probably took it worst of all. As my dad was digging the grave and while he was covered by a blanket...Mekka went up to him and sniffed him, began crying and laid next to him. Whoever says dogs are just animals is wrong period.

It was a sad day for my family. Still is.