Xena Would Have Loved This.
Loki’s lived with us for almost three years but I still consider him “new.” That’s because Xena, our “old” dog, died almost three years ago.
As most dogs are, Xena was the greatest dog in the world. She wanted to please us more than anything. She knew how to “go away” and “come back” on demand. Xena was next to me constantly, and I constantly told her to “go away.” She was a waddle-y tail-wagger who did absolutely anything we asked.
The only thing Xena couldn’t do was stay healthy. She vomited all the time – several times a week for no apparent reason. She was desperately anxious. I should have spent my days calming her. Instead, I wound her up like a top, deserted her when she just wanted companionship, and yelled when she vomited.
Everything I do with Loki feels like a betrayal.
Xena didn’t need walks. By that I mean, I was too busy or lazy to take her for walks, so we only went when I wanted to walk. Xena went for lots of car rides. Sometimes I let her out in a field to run. Those were glorious days. But mostly we let her out in the yard and she sat there alone.
Loki gets two – sometimes three or four – walks per day. He is a ball of energy and if we don’t walk him, he’s insane. He races around the house like a cartoon version of himself. So even in the rain and snow, Loki gets long walks.
When walking him I think, Xena would have loved this. Every time. Every day.
Xena hated her dog food. The canned stuff was expensive and it rotted in her bowl when she didn’t eat it. She vomited when she was hungry, so she vomited a lot while the food sat in the bowl. Eventually we settled on a dry food that she ate, but she never enjoyed it.
The last food Xena ate was a can of delicious, human-grade, very expensive dog food. She loved it. It cost about $2 a can and provided one meal. I bought her a case, finally, when she was literally dying. Xena ate one can and never ate again. I donated the rest.
Loki got canned food immediately. He gets crunchy food, too. When I feed him canned food, I feel guilty that I didn’t buy canned food for Xena. Every time. Every day.
Xena shed a little. Loki doesn’t shed at all. Every time Xena climbed off of me, I spent ten minutes removing hair from my clothes and complaining loudly about it.
Xena never scratched anyone or anything. Loki ruined all our furniture with his claws and we never even grumbled.
Xena’s vomiting meant she wasn’t allowed in my bed – ever. Cleaning the comforter was too hard. She wanted to sleep next to my bed, but her snoring woke me up. So she slept in the hall, alone. Every night for 13 years.
All she wanted was to be near me.
Loki sleeps on a giant feather mattress pad designed for a human, covered with a comfort pad and a queen-sized blanket. Loki has a fleece blanket that he sleeps under. Loki’s luxury bed is right next to mine.
In the mornings, Loki is invited onto my bed for cuddling. Loki loves these moments. He puts his paws in my face, which irritates the heck out of me, but I gently move those paws and keep petting him.
Loki never sleeps in the hall. Every morning, on my bed, I pet Loki and think of Xena.
Every time.