On the road: Las Vegas, part 1
Las Vegas confronts me with a sad memory.
Oversized hotels, bombastic shows and casinos that always win in the end. An artificial world in the middle of the desert. I came here to see an old friend from Germany and to look after two small dogs.
It is difficult to keep up with posting when life takes over and presents me with new impressions and encounters every day. Where do I pick up the thread?
I’m trying again – once more – from the end, maybe this time I’ll manage to connect the dots.
I just said farewell to sweet Chihuahua Alan, who I looked after for a week and who, despite being ten years old, still chases after his ball like a puppy.
When I arrived at his home in Las Vegas, Alan was still with his “brother” Obie, three years older and just as little, who had not only been a therapy dog but also an actor in a Hollywood series. Now, as a senior dog, Obie has to take all sorts of pills for his heart problems, but is otherwise cheerful and enjoys his daily walks to the nearby park. The day after I arrive, I walk him on a leash while his owner, a lady, takes Alan. Towards the evening, however, Obie starts coughing so badly that the lady takes him to the emergency room at night. The next day I accompany her to the vet, who sensitively tells her that Obie’s health will continue to deteriorate. That’s how it is. The poor little guy wheezes when he coughs and sounds terrible. “We have to make a decision,” I hear his owner say. I understand what she means, but I’m still surprised when she tells me the next morning that she’s made an appointment for 9:30 a.m. to have Obie put down. He shouldn’t suffer. I didn’t expect such a quick decision. Before she takes him to the vet, I rub Obie’s belly for a while while he lies comfortably on his back and stretches his four paws in all directions. What a cute little guy!
It is very sad and reminds me of the experience two years ago when I took Charlotte the dog to a veterinary clinic in Montana for surgery (see my Note from the road). When the vet discovered that her tumor was malignant, he euthanized her while she was still under anesthesia. That was what was agreed with the owners. I can still see Charlotte looking after me as I left her in the clinic. I will probably always remember her look. And for so long I will blame myself for not staying with her. The owners and I assumed that I would be able to take her home after the operation. We were wrong. Every time I drove past that veterinary clinic for the next four weeks that I remained in the area, I burst into tears. If I ever find myself in a similar situation again, I know what I’ll do: I shall stay with the animal - until the last minute.
This text was first published on my German website and translated by me.