We had to say goodbye to Mackenzie yesterday morning.
She’d had various health issues over the past few years, but I thought we had everything under control. I thought we had more time.
She had an accident in the house on Monday while we were out. We thought we just hadn’t made sure to take her outside. But she wasn’t herself afterwards. We thought she was tired, or ashamed. We took her for a short walk and she was happy to see the neighbors who live around the corner and always give her treats. She had stopped wanting to go to the park, but we thought she was just getting old.
Late Tuesday night she woke me up with a bark to go outside, which was somewhat unusual but not totally weird. I let her out.
She’d been having trouble with stairs. I went back to sleep after letting her out. Then I woke up a little later, and went out to see if she wanted back in. It was dark, maybe 4:30 am. I didn’t hear her. I tossed and turned trying to decide if she was just relaxing outside. The weather was nice. I woke Louie up a bit later and he went out to look for her.
He found her, lying outside towards the side of the yard. She was breathing very heavily. He convinced her to come inside. Still we didn’t know. Until we realized, no, this isn’t okay. We had already made a vet appointment, but at 6:30 we decided to start heading out to the 24 hour vet.
Mackenzie was a big dog. Sometimes in my head I’d think, what if she couldn’t walk and I needed to take her somewhere. She couldn’t walk. She had gotten up to drink water and then collapsed. She was just lying there on the floor.
Louie was able to scoop her up. He carried her in his arms to the car and loaded her in the back seat. He sat with her while I drove us the ten minutes to the vet. She seemed scared, but she was also very much just tired and barely conscious. I knew it probably wasn’t okay, but I was still hopeful that they could do something. Though I knew, I had sometimes thought of how one day we might have to carry her to the car, and how if we had to carry that big dog, that big strong and brave dog, that would be near the end.
When we got there, I went in to get help bringing her inside. Some people got a stretcher and took her in. She wasn’t moving. We waited.
They brought us into a private room. The vet said that the X-rays showed a variety of masses in her body, cancer. I don’t remember everything he said. He said something about it looking like something had ruptured around her heart and he could barely hear her heartbeat. That the masses were all over and in her lungs. That yes, they could do surgery, but the chance of anything saving her was slim, that it wasn’t right to do anything other than end her suffering.
They brought her in. She was just lying there, breathing heavily. We petted her, and we cried, and all of that. Her paws were cool and she was just lying there. And the vet helped to ease her pain while we petted her.
I only met Mackenzie when I started to get to know Louie. I’d never had a dog before—I’d never even liked dogs. Mackenzie was the dog that made me like dogs. She was so sweet and fun. She loved violin, and she loved seeing my students. She was best friends with Louie, and she was brave and protective and kind. She would do anything to try to get a treat or extra food. She loved going to the park, she loved going for hikes, she loved swimming in the water and sleeping on her couch.
Louie got her when she was a puppy. He has a much longer story with her, but that isn’t my story, and it isn’t my story to tell. She was born on March 1, 2006, and she died on May 30, 2018. She made my heart so much bigger, but she left a huge hole.
This must have been around Christmas time. She’d lost her hair due to an illness, but the medicine made it under control. Maybe that made her more susceptible to cancer, the medicine.
Last spring, in Forest Park. You can, as a bonus, see my dad coming out the door in the background.
One of her favorite things was licking the peanut butter jar when it was done. She’d often take it out into the backyard and make an outdoor activity out of it. After she licked as much as she could, sometimes we’d cut the top off so she could start again and lick down to the bottom!
She and Muriel were becoming good friends.
Out for a hike at Rockwoods Reservation (I think?).
Sleeping on the bed. She LOVED soft places.
Sticks and snow. She loved picking up sticks that were entirely too big for her to actually walk with. This was an example. And she loved the cold and the snow too, with her thick black fur.
This was at Thanksgiving. The weather was warm, but the ice rink at Forest Park had snow drifts around it.
She was probably hoping to get a snack here!
At Castlewood State Park. She loved hiking and would go bounding up steep rocky trails like it was nothing. She would search for ways to get into bodies of water and go swimming.
Here’s her swimming in the Maplewood Pool.
And then she’d try to climb up and it was hard to get her, so we’d work hard to get her to swim to a staircase or ladders. Once she figured it out though, she’d remember how to get in and out of the pool.
And that was a selfie at the Beggin’ Pet Parade in Soulard one year.
She always loved hanging out while I practiced. If I shut the door she would bark until I let her in.
She always looked so wise. And this was her favorite couch, her whole life.
I’m glad we were able to get one last short camping trip and hike with her. I don’t know that she had as much fun as she did when she was younger, but it was nice to do and we will have that memory. At the time I planned it I thought it might be her last summer, even though I never said that. I just didn’t know it was her last month. I just thought we’d have more time.
She had nice time poking around the woods and trying to eat weird stuff she shouldn’t.
Her with her brother, Banjo. Banjo lives with some friends of ours. Those guys would always have fun but get into big trouble together.
The two of them on Mackenzie’s favorite couch.
That’s a picture of Louie and me and Mackenzie (and Louie’s brother Julian.) I couldn’t find any other than that! Mackenzie never did learn to look at the camera, but I think she had more important things on her mind.
She will be missed. She was a great dog, who touched so many lives. But those of us who lived with her will of course miss her the most. She leaves a Mackenzie sized hole here and that’s a big hole.
I hope we did well for her. I think she was a lucky dog to have us, and Louie especially, and we were lucky people to know her. That’s the best you can do, right?
