Gigabyte Owens

11/15/1991 - 06/21/2001

In Memoriam .......

At 5:01am, Thursday, June 21, 2001, the reflection of my soul passed from this world into the Peaceful Valley at the end of the Rainbow Bridge. There she will patiently wait for me to join her and once again we will be united in death as we were in life.

I am a dog person, having been born in 1946, the Chinese Year of the Dog. Those of you who believe in the ancient lore will understand that for every human on this earth, there is an animal counterpart ... a creature with fur, feathers or scales that is an exact reflection of your soul .. that can mirror your innermost thoughts & feelings with unbiased loyalty & devotion. Many of us never have the opportunity to know our true selves .. to see us as our reflection sees us. As God made us in his image, so he made our counterpart a reflection of ourselves.

We first locked eyes on New Years Day, 1992, when she was brought through the area where I was working, being given away as one of a litter at the tender age of 6 weeks. As our eyes met, we both knew that we were meant to be together. She quietly settled down in a box on my desk, never making a fuss until the end of my shift when we could go home. As evening fell, she went to sleep at the side of my bed, my hand dangled into her box on the floor. Just before dawn, I awakened to hear her howl ... one of those plaintive howls you read about in Zane Grey or Jack London books ... as if to tell the ancient ones that she had found her home. She did it only once and it was never repeated any other night as long as she lived.

Our lives were not dramatic. One month after Gigabyte (Gigi, as she was commonly known) came home, I was able to become a full time home based worker and was therefore able to spend most of my time at home with her. She grew into a beautiful tri-colored Collie mix ... a gentle creature with uncanny intelligence. She assumed her place at my side ... positioning herself in the doorway of my office while I worked, quietly waiting for me to take a break so we could go play. She was never rowdy and, except for the TV remote that became a teething ring, she was never destructive. She played with the cat that was here when she came, allowing him to win at most of their sparring games, until the day he died.

As the years passed, she & I became more as one .... she able to read my moods, to know when to lay her head in my lap & when to retire quietly to her favorite spot in the hall, and I able to read in her eyes words that never needed to be put into verbal expression. We never took a trip without her; she never spent a night away from us except for the mandatory overnight stay in the hospital when we had her spayed. She was my friend, my defender, my partner ... and I was her guardian & her life leader.

Three years ago, we adopted a stray puppy and charged her with the responsibility of teaching Duke the ways of the household. She became his mentor, his guidance counselor & his big sister. When he was alarmed, she rushed to his side .... when he did something wrong, she either corrected him with a sharp growl or loudly tattled on him so I would know what he was in to. Even though he now stands 3" taller than she ever did, he deferred to her authority without question. She was the dominant one and Duke misses her, too.

The past year or so, it was becoming evident that age was catching up to her. She was overweight so we put her on a low fat / restricted diet (except for the ritual of the last bite of my Blue Bell) and she had lost down to a reasonable size. Her digestive system was less tolerant of spicy or fatty foods, causing the predictable round of upset stomach if someone slipped her something she wasn’t supposed to have. Last year she had an unexpected but severe reaction to the Bordetella vaccine, having not only the mild cough / runny eyes which you expect, but also violent stomach upsets, vomiting, etc. Lately, she had become more susceptible to system upsets, so when it was time for the annual round of shots & exams, we did a Superchem/CBC and urinalysis workup. The verdict was that she had more than 75% kidney failure. By the time we got the results of the test, she was already going through another reaction to the vaccines, though not as bad as before. We made an appointment for an ultrasound to rule out cancers, tumors, etc., and that result was good ... the organs all looked pretty good for her age. By then, she was recovering from the latest bout of upset, so we put her on a modified diet of easily digested foods to take the elimination load off of her kidneys.

All went well for a week or so & on the 15^th of June, I gave her her monthly Heartgard. By the evening of the 16^th, she was not holding much of anything except liquid on her stomach & by the 18^th, even water wouldn’t stay down long. All of the tricks to bring her around failed this time ... chicken soup, mashed potatoes, Pedialyte, baby food, even Pepto Bismol .... a little would stay down, but then it turned to diarrhea. By the 19^th, I could tell that the volume of her kidney output had decreased and she was getting weaker ... still alert and trying to please but more prone to long naps. On the 20^th, her condition rapidly deteriorated & by that evening, she was barely able to travel the 65' width of the yard. That evening, she opted to sleep in the quiet solitude of the business shop, rather than in our bedroom with Duke. I felt like the end was near and that she knew it also. I kissed her goodnight about midnight, not sure that it wasn’t for the last time, but she was in no apparent pain or distress.

When I awoke at 4am, I found her where she had fallen ... she had made it about half way from the shop to my side before her strength gave out. Her heart was strong, she was alert, but the rest of her body had failed her. It was time and we both knew it.

I called the 24hr. Vet hospital & made the arrangements while my husband dressed and got the SUV backed up. I cradled her in my arms while Tom drove us the longest 2 miles I’ve ever had to ride. She was prepped and we stroked her & talked to her while she gently crossed over from this world to the next. She was surrounded by those she loved and who loved her, and her journey was peaceful.

I have had her remains cremated and preserved. One day, when my husband no longer needs me, when my earthly work has been finished, when the other animals for whom I am guardian & Mama no longer need my care, Gigi & I will be reunited, our ashes flung to the four winds, our spirits soaring to the horizon, our souls together as one. Until then, she will patiently wait in the Peaceful Valley at the end of the Rainbow Bridge for me to come to her, just as she waited by the doors here on earth for me to return.

It’s OK, Puppy .... Mama’s coming.