“And so she came to pass much too quickly. My hopes, my goal was to simply make her comfortable just long enough to enjoy at least one full day of love, of kindness, of the grass under her feet, the spoils of being “my” dog. To prove to her that, once she was out of the shelter, I would make it better along with all those who were rooting for her. But it was not meant to be. Claudia’s illness was relentless, nullifying her medications and the best of my intentions in a matter of days. And so, on a beautiful Saturday morning, I held her head in my hands and never stopped kissing her forehead as she peacefully slipped away. All the while telling her she was a beautiful dog and that my wish for her was that she should run like the wind without a care in the world.
Claudia must have been a fabulous dog in her day. Even in her failing health, she was strikingly beautiful. Her liver-colored coat was spotted with—what looked like—snowflakes of white. Her eyes appeared golden in the sunlight. Her expression, her look was quintessential GSP. Especially when she stood perfectly still in the middle of the yard taking in the fresh air; her head tilted slightly upward toward the sky. She quickly assumed the rituals and routine of my “girls” (Emily [GSP], Molly [Cocker Spaniel], Sassy [Jack Russell mix]), politely enjoying an abundance of dog treats, the comforts of the couch, and the ever-present touch and attention of someone who truly cared. And in those moments I knew she knew she was, without a doubt, my dog. My only wish was that it could have been for just a little while longer. Sweet dreams Claudia.”
– Celia A., Claudia’s (Foster) Mom
