Thursday, April 27, 2017

In Tribute to Zuzu


Beth's portrait of Zuzu

Yesterday was one of those days every pet owner dreads, yet inevitably experiences; that day when we lose one of our four legged children.  For Karen and me, we decided that our beloved miniature schnauzer, Zuzu, had lived a beautiful life and that she had suffered enough through the last few months. 

First of all, I want to express my deepest appreciation to Karen for her empathy and courage in taking on the brunt of taking Zuzu to the vet and being with Zuzu when she was euthanized.  Karen knew that if we both went, it would have been harder on both of us so she did this (with my consent) while I was out of town.  My biggest regret was that I couldn’t be with her but she had a good friend (and fellow lover of Zuzu) with her.

As I was driving home I repeatedly checked the time on the clock and imagined Karen walking into the office of the vet with Zuzu in her arms and having to wait.  A few minutes later, I’d peek at the clock and think that Karen was stroking Zuzu and thanking her for her years of joy and love.  Then a moments later, the clock would suggest to me that Karen was tearfully saying and sharing our final good-byes.

Bailey & Zuzu
For the rest of the trip I let memories of the last 16 years that Zuzu created for us entertain me; such as:

  • Her immediate bond with her older Labrador retriever sister, Bailey (and fellow namesake from the movie, It’s A Wonderful Life).
  • Her incessant desire to play ball.  She spent hours running up and down our back porch stairs in Marietta chasing a bouncing tennis balls. Our daughter-in-law even painted a portrait of Zuzu in her favorite pose.
  • Her laser focus on our many early morning walks (with me and Bailey) back and forth on West Sandtown Rd. Nothing would distract her as we walked our two miles each day in the pre-dawn hours.
  • Her cat like independence.  When she wanted attention, she’d let you know and expect immediate action.  Otherwise, just leave her alone…. until the next meal.
  •  After we had to put Bailey down (another terrible day), we saw that Zuzu needed a playmate so we brought in Ernie (yes, named for another character from the same movie).  They instantly bonded with Ernie becoming Zuzu’s shadow, much to her displeasure at times.
  • In the last years in 'our meadow', watching her bunny hop down the road to our house after a short walk.


When you bring a dog (or pet) into your home you fall quickly and deeply in love.  Pet owners always say that they are a member of the family.  We conveniently keep safely away from our cognitive memory that their lifespan will be only 10-15 years.  So, when “that” day comes, that grief still hits us like a ton of bricks. As Philip Yancey so accurately defines, “in grief, love and pain converge”.  You swear you’ll never want to get another pet because of the pain you’re experiencing.  Yet in a few months, you often repeat the cycle and experience that unique love a pet brings once again.

Yet, for Karen, Katie, and me, this grief pain reveals itself at another, deeper level.  In the loss of Zuzu, we lose yet another connection with the life of Jacob.  Back in 2001 we received Zuzu from a litter owned by Karen’s cousin, Lisa Sinaird soon after we moved to Marietta.  Jacob and Katie were with us when we picked Zuzu up to take her home. She became fast friends with Bailey and a source of love and entertainment to all of us.  Her presence in our household helped Jacob and Katie make the transition to a new community a little easier. When those days when things were difficult at school in making friends, they could home to that twitching stub of a tail and knew that they were loved.  It was wonderful to watch them all grow older together.

When Jacob became so sick before his first transplant Zuzu was there to bring love and encouragement. And when he was recuperating after the transplant, Zuzu would play nurse by checking on him with regularity. She was our exclusive therapy dog.


Now we have lost one more tangible piece of shared experience with Jacob.  And we have lost one more treasured pet who spent their life bringing us unconditional and continual love.

Zuzu, thanks for your years of love and service.  Tell Bailey and Jacob ‘hello’ for us.

Ernie, Zuzu, & Elphie