Our sweet Suga passed away yesterday morning. She was 14, and 11 of those years she spent with us.
Mike remembers the day we adopted her like it was yesterday. We were cleaning cages and walking dogs at the Max Fund in Denver and he met Suga. She had been returned three times, each time with some horrid excuse. We would learn soon enough what the truth was. Mike told me that Suga spoke to him. What was I to say, except that if we can also bring home Juliette the Great Dane to foster then I was in.
And so our adventure with Suga began. We learned that she was not potty trained, and that she would only pee on grass. That was tough where we lived, on the side of a mountain in brush and woods. Mike walked and walked her one day until she finally peed, on someone’s lawn! That was the trick.
We both fell immediately in love with her. I remember getting Suga and Juliette out of my car one day after taking them for a hike and before I could get them in the gate Suga looked at Juliette and I said to her “no”, knowing she wanted to take off down the long driveway. She sprinted away, Juliette looked at me and I said “no”, to which she responded by galloping down the driveway to follow Suga. I was right behind them and a couple of minutes, out of breath, caught up to them. Only because they had stopped to sniff.
Suga was, and still is in my heart, the definition of pure love and light. She filled us with love and she gave love to anyone she met.
As a non-profit fundraiser, I have worked for some amazing non-profits. The two where Suga visited the most were a small HIV/AIDS agency, Boulder County AIDS Project, and an agency that serve youth experiencing homelessness, Urban Peak.
I remember Suga loving the BCAP house and running down the stairs from my office to the lobby to greet whoever was coming in the door. She sat on the lap of many a client and visitor and gave her endless love. Imagine coming in to see your case manager or to get an HIV test and having Suga sit on your lap while you wait.
She continued all of this when I arrived at Urban Peak. She loved going to Urban Peak. The young people experiencing homelessness served there adored her and the staff spoiled her. By the end of the day she would be exhausted.
Suga brought joy to us every day. Our lives became so much better because of her. Whether it was a road trip or just a trip to the market, laying on the couch and watching her paw to ask us to keep petting her or just relaxing with her, every second was just perfect. She taught me so much above love, life, family and home.
As far as we could tell she loved California. By the time we moved it was almost a year since she had been diagnosed with congestive heart failure. We knew the day would come, sooner than anything we ever wanted, and did everything we could to keep her heart going. She was on several medications and was doing pretty well. She had episodes, but always bounced back.
Until yesterday.
Today coming home from work I remembered that she would not be throwing her head back while barking to greet me from her perch on the couch. Her perch that gave her a view of her kingdom. She would always greet us as if she hadn’t seen us for days.
In the end, enveloped by me and Mike, she just couldn’t keep on. She was highly stressed trying to just breathe. And so we said goodbye. I sang to her, one of many little songs I would sing to her… “Suga Muga of my dreams…”
Many of you reading this have gone through this same, awful loss. Home is not the same. Coming home can be terrible. One second you can be smiling and the next sobbing. We are crushed and heart-broken. We miss her. The feeling of loss is strong. Knowing she is not just in the next room is terrifying.
The loss is still very new and yet in the midst of the grief I think we both feel a sense of gratitude. I am so incredibly grateful that I was able to know Suga and to have her as part of my life for 11 years. She changed me and helped this broken guy, this guy with a lot of baggage, become even more comfortable with expressing love and to continue to learn about love and compassion.
Thanks for reading.
