Losing Izzy

Moving to Seattle this past August, Brooks and I were forced to face a decision we thought was still months if not years down the road: Izzy's retirement years.  We had noticed she was slowing down, unless she was headed downhill in pow-pow, and that her knee was giving her more noticeable trouble, she was taking longer to rebound from trips, and the second day of an overnight she would awake quite stiff.

Winter 2018

Kitchen floor is much cooler than grass in the sun

White Sulphur Hot Springs, Alaska

Ferry to Haines to ski

They loved to snuggle

She loves anything reminiscent of game

Old lady at John Muir Cabin

Berner's Bay spring day

Termination Loop

When we visited Kodiak for opening deer season before we moved to Seattle, we brought Izzy with us to live with my incredible parents for her retirement years.  My parents were excited and welcomed Izzy back into their home with open arms: my dad was looking forward to her rejoining him and Malone on their slower walks and my mom was ready to snuggle.

Summer day during Brooks' Summer Camp 2015

In addition to her right knee that kept her on pain pills, a vet had found a mass in her bladder that left blood in her urine from time to time, and while he couldn't concretely diagnose it other than ruling out cancer and UTI, he put her Science Diet Urinary Care prescription dog food as an extra precaution.

Izzy lived in Kodiak for almost a month and a half, sunbathing in Kodiak's glorious and uncharacteristically great weather, walking, and snuggling, before succumbing to her illness.

I cry now, like I did when I left her in Kodiak, because I feel sorry for me.  I was still processing living in Seattle without Izzy for the past three weeks when news came of her passing after a long day of teaching followed by a school community dinner and a long commute that had me home at 9pm.  I miss her.  And believe it or not, I miss finding dog hair all over every god damn thing in the house.

Portland Pup!

Part of me thought that when I said goodbye to her in Kodiak, that it might be a final goodbye.  Her face continued to whiten and she continued to grow older and frailer.

My mom set up Facetime with us and Izzy just days prior; we talked to her as she lounged in the sun.  And I told myself that when she perked her ears, she knew it was me.

Izzy was a great partner, a loving partner, a trusting partner.  For 9.5 years, she entrusted me to lead her to far corners: Togiak, Portland, Juneau, and multiple mountain peaks in between.  I know she's in doggy heaven doing more sunbathing, running, and chewing on deer carcasses no one can take away from her.

Her usual Lima Bean position