Remembering Emma

In Loving Memory
1998-2009

In the early autumn of 2003, Dave and I added two four-legged members to our family. It all began when we became enthralled with the cute, little dog named Verdel in the movie “As Good as it Gets.” We learned that he is a Brussels Griffon, so Dave began his quest for just such a dog, finding a breeder near Vancouver, Washington (about an hour from our house at the time in Beaverton, Oregon).

We decided to go see a puppy the breeder had available, to see if we would be a good fit. We drove up to Washington on a rainy Saturday to meet her. It is no surprise that it was raining, but it was a surprise to find about 10 Brussels Griffons at the breeder’s home. They were all excited to see us. The breeder brought out the puppy we came to see, who looked at us nervously but soon scampered around us, anxious to get to know us. As we played with the puppy, an older dog jumped up on Dave’s lap. The breeder was astonished, as this older dog (she was five years old at the time) had been one of her show dogs and, until then, never was interested in strangers. Named by the breeder after the country singer Emmy-Lou Harris, she was also the grandmother of the puppy we were playing with that day. The breeder explained that Emmy-Lou was looking for a new home and asked if we would like both dogs. While we debated having two dogs, we learned that Emmy-Lou was low in the hierarchy of the dogs at the breeders house, so she was a bit thin and somewhat nervous around the other adult dogs. With us, though, she was confident, happy, and relaxed enough to let her very long tongue stick out of her mouth. It was probably that long tongue and doleful eyes that won us over.

While we came for a puppy, we both decided that having the two would be a great idea. A bit surprised at the doubling of our commitment, yet extremely excited, we left the breeder’s home with two dogs: a four month old puppy we named Gigi and her grandmother, now dubbed Emma (we were never much into country music and Emma seemed to fit her more refined demeanor). The girls quickly adjusted to life with us. More accurately, I suppose, we adjusted to life with them. Emma loved her routine and quickly had us accommodating her schedule to the letter. Gigi, as a puppy, quickly followed suit by learning from her grandmother the day-to-day responsibilities: try not to make messes in the house, wait quietly when alone for your people to come home, and develop a keen understanding that food is pretty much the most important thing in the world (with belly rubs a close second).

We had almost six years with Emma. With a nod to a certain bias, she was the best dog. She was devoted to her family, spending countless hours following us throughout the house and then resting beside Dave on the love seat. We never did anything alone again - and I do mean anything. Every evening, she would clean my ears – not because they were dirty (I trust) but rather because she wanted to spend grooming time with me. She knew our schedule, down to the key question I would ask of Dave before we left for an errand, “You ready?” Those two words meant “treat” and “wait patiently until we come home.” Emma also knew that Friday night is pizza and movie night. She would watch the front door for the delivery of her favorite pepperoni and sausage pizza. She would run with unbridled passion, even though running was not high on her list of fun activities, as we carried our pizza to the living room table to watch a movie. She knew, without a doubt, that she would get a bite or five in the course of the evening. Carrying the food theme farther, she waited until the end of our dinner each night to run with Gigi to their bowls, knowing they would get a small helping of whatever vegetable we had with dinner (green beans were her favorite).

Living in Boise, where the weather can be extremely hot and extremely cold, she was a fair-weather walker, preferring to keep her time outside limited to a sniff and any necessary business. When she would finish, she would actually run back on three legs, holding one front leg up to reduce the feeling of nature on her feet. On a nice day, with the sun shining but the temperature not too hot or too cold, she would eagerly join Dave, Gigi, and me for a walk around the lakes in our neighborhood. She would start off with a spring in her step but she would usually look up half way through the walk with a plaintive plea for a bit of carrying along the route. Dave always obliged.

Emma passed away unexpectedly at 5:30 pm on June 16, 2009. She became ill the evening before, but it was difficult to determine what was happening to her. She acted as though a front leg was hurting her, but she had no pain in the leg itself. We noticed some swelling in her abdomen, so we took her to the emergency clinic. They did not suspect anything grave, so they prescribed a mild pain reliever and sent us home. She slept well that night, though she seemed to be laboring to breathe. In the morning, she was very uncomfortable, so I took her to our regular vet. He had to run many tests during the day to discover that she had extensive internal bleeding that seems to come from a tumor that ruptured a blood vessel. She was having tremendous difficulty breathing by mid afternoon. There was nothing that the vet could do for her except to end her suffering. We spent about 30 minutes alone with Emma in a back room of the clinic, with Emma resting on Dave’s lap. I gave her a slice of her favorite turkey and made trips to the sink to moisten her mouth with water (her very long tongue had dried out from her heavy breathing). We told her what a good girl she is and held her while she passed.

We will always remember Emma, for her long tongue, her sweet disposition, her devotion to us, and the love she gave to us so freely. May she have all the pizza she would like forever more.