Franky, Part 2

Last fall, I wrote Franky: Part One. Franky, our golden retriever made friends with everyone he met and everyone loved him.

My senior year of high school we moved to 20 acres and a house we built in the country. Franky loved it and ran all over the land.

In college, I lived at home and each time someone came home, Franky would run to greet you; he was the best welcoming party ever. I hated writing papers and always had to go to the basement computer to write. I always had trouble getting started and I was nervous. Franky would generally come downstairs away from the rest of the family to help me get started. Hours in once I had a nice flow going, he would venture back upstairs. He was such a giver.

One night, we all watched a movie together and after everyone went back upstairs, but I had another dreaded paper to write. Franky must've sensed my stress and resumed his spot by the computer to help me get started.

The next day changed the rest of our lives forever. I went to work and school, where my mom called to say Franky was lying outside and wouldn't eat anything. He loved eating human food, so I suggested she offer him a piece of bread, which she had and he refused. I was shocked. After he stayed stuck in that one spot all day, my mom had my dad come home early from work to take Franky to the vet. After work, I joined them. They were doing doing tests. Before his little surgery we said bye and watched them cart him down the hall. He looked at us with those beautiful tigers eye-colored eyes. They did a little surgery and found that he was septic; his bowel was perforated. With his being septic, he would have to have it as an open wound. The dangers of him being septic were large, living with an open wound is dangerous and they suspected cancer. The odds of him living was 25% and there were dangers of him having complications. There was nothing else they could do for him. We wailed in that waiting room. He had seemed so fine before and now we were making the hardest decision of our lives. We always said we'd pay whatever to keep him alive, but keeping him alive wasn't an option anymore unless we left him with an open wound only to wait for the end with him in pain. We were devastated. Franky had spent over 10 years being the best member of our family. It was hard to reconcile that he'd be fine just the day before and had selflessly helped me with my paper just the night before. While Franky was our family dog, my mom spend 24 hours a day with him and they were beyond close. Though my dad and I hated to admit it, we knew the best option for our baby, was to put him down. Nowhere was there a scenario where he would live and it broke our hearts. We made mom make the call about what to do and decided there was no better option for him. We wailed and our vet cried with us.

My parents stayed to wait to take home his body and I went home. What I didn't realized was that I'd be arriving home where Franky wouldn't be there to great me. The grief was hard to put into words. I couldn't stand to be alone in my room, though Franky always stayed in my parent's room. I cried myself to sleep every night for at least a week. I awoke every day to my dad crying. Franky got up with my dad early every morning and now dad was alone. I used to complain about all the blonde/red hair on my clothes, but as time passed his said disappeared from our clothes and I would've given anything to have my furry puppy back.

Over 13 years have gone by since his passing and we still miss him dearly. He and I had a special bond having grown up together. Through him I learned about love, forgiveness and joy in the simple things. I learned that love is about the small things. We loved him and he loved us. For me, he'll always be the best dog ever. Miss you, Franky! <3