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IN LOVING MEMORY OF KEVIN MICHAEL
1996 – 2008
I first met Kevin Michael on a hot June day in 2000. My friend
Geralyn showed up in my driveway on her way home from the Upshur County Pound.
She asked me to come to her car to see a Golden Retriever that she had just
rescued and brought to me. I had owned Golden Retrievers for many years,
and I had recently gotten into Golden Retriever rescue. She
said the pound workers had classified him as “an old dog that no one would
want,” and he was scheduled for euthanasia. He had been moved to a
back room where no one could see him or adopt him.
He had been scheduled to die the day before, but by the grace of God,
the veterinarian did not show up. Geralyn took one look at that sweet
face and those loving eyes and knew this was a great dog. She told the
pound workers that she would take him. They tried to talk her out of it
saying, “He’s an old dog. You don’t want him.”
But luckily for Kevin and me, Geralyn knows a great dog when she sees
one, and she put him into the car. (For
the rest of Kevin’s life, he always remembered Geralyn when she stopped to
visit him. As soon as she said his name, he would run barking to her,
showing his appreciation to her over and over again. Geralyn was Kevin’s angel who took him away from a life of
torture and pain, and Kevin and I both will be eternally grateful to her.)
Kevin was the most badly abused dog I
have ever seen. He was 30 pounds underweight, and he looked like there
was just some skin stretched over his bones. He was matted and infested
with fleas and ticks. I remember he had a big tick on top of his head.
He had a scar around his neck where his former owners had let his collar grow
into his neck. As if this were
not enough, he had a broken left hind leg that was locked in position out to
the side at a 45 degree angle. He could barely walk, but it didn’t
stop him because Kevin had an iron will – then and throughout his entire
life.
I called my veterinarian, and I took
Kevin directly to the hospital for surgery on the leg. It was estimated
that Kevin was only four years old, and that the leg had most likely been
broken for two years. I cannot imagine the pain this poor dog had been
through. Kevin was not neutered,
and it was later discovered that Kevin had been a stud dog in a puppy mill –
despite the broken leg and the obvious pain he had endured for all that time.
These were ruthless people who were only concerned with breeding and
making money and not with the health and well-being of this wonderful and
gentle soul. I don’t know how
Kevin got away from the puppy mill and made his way to the pound, but again it
was by the grace of God. I truly believe that God knew the greatness of
this wonderful Golden Retriever, and He somehow got Kevin from the puppy mill,
to the pound, to Geralyn, and finally to me, his mother who loved him
unconditionally for eight years.
Kevin was hospitalized for nearly a
month before he was able to come home with me. Because his leg had been
broken for such a long period of time, it could not be completely repaired.
Even though the leg didn’t bend, he was able to put the leg on the
ground for the first time in two years. When he was released from the
hospital, I took him to the grooming shop for a bath and then brought him home
to meet my family of five other Goldens and two cats. Kevin immediately
became part of the family. He got along with everyone, and he soon
became the happy wonderful four-year-old that I came to love so deeply.
Now if Kevin were telling his own
story, he would not focus on the bad times.
In fact, he would not even mention them.
Kevin was happy with any good thing he had – no matter how small.
He loved life and everyone he met.
He didn’t hold a grudge because someone had starved and abused him,
and he didn’t have any fear. He
lived life to the fullest every day. He
was forgiving, and he had faith that life would get better.
He was a happy dog even with all of his physical problems.
Kevin had a great sense of humor, and had a wonderful bark that he used
at the times that if he could, he would have laughed. He was always kind
and gentle, and he loved everyone – people and animals alike. He loved
to “referee” as my Goldens Andy and Emily would wrestle and play. He
was there on the sidelines cheering them on, but telling them to “break it
up” if things got too rough. He
loved to rip apart his stuffed “babies” and leave the stuffing all over
the floor. He loved to sleep next
to my cat Teddy, and let Teddy use his tail as a pillow.
I remember one time I was playing with Kevin and I growled at him just
for fun. He had a look of disbelief on his face because he thought I was
angry with him. When I laughed, and he realized it was all in fun, he
growled back. After that we would always play a game where I would pick
up his beautiful sweet face, hold it in my hands, and I would growl -- then he
would growl back while vigorously wagging his tail. Kevin had a happy life from age 4 to age 12. I
couldn’t erase the first four years of abuse, but I did everything within my
power to make his last eight years the best any dog could have.
He and I were connected in a special way that cannot be described in
words.
You are probably wondering how Kevin
Michael got his name. I named this very handsome blonde dog for my
favorite, handsome blonde actor, Kevin Michael Costner. Even with his
physical disability, Kevin was a very handsome dog with soft brown eyes that
melted your heart. After eating a
healthy diet and being groomed on a regular basis, Kevin grew a gorgeous long,
flowing coat of gold. Kevin had a
softness and a goodness that was evident to all who met him.
Everyone who met him was drawn to him.
I own a boarding kennel, and Kevin would sit at the gate and wait to
welcome the guest dogs as they were dropped off for their visits with us.
Over the years, Kevin continued to
have problems with his bad leg, and within two years of his original surgery,
he had a second surgery to correct yet another problem. After that he
did pretty well for the next few years. Then as he got older, the leg
seemed to become less usable. Kevin seemed to age quickly, most likely
because of all of the physical trauma he had endured.
But you had to really know Kevin to know when he was in pain. He
didn’t ever show his pain, and he never gave in to it. Then, one
fateful day in December 2007, I found Kevin lying on the floor quivering.
He did not whimper, and he walked on his own, but I knew he was in terrible
pain. I took him to my
veterinarian immediately to find his “bad” leg was broken. We later
found out that he had bone cancer, and that was the apparent cause of the
break. The leg broke in the exact same place it had been broken when I
rescued him nearly eight years before. After discussions with my
veterinarian, we decided our best option was to amputate the leg.
Kevin’s recovery was remarkable. When I brought him home from the
hospital one week after the amputation, he got out of the car without my help
and ran on three legs around the house. He continued to improve and
seemed to have a newly found youth. He was happy, and he ran and played
like he did in his younger years. Then, in March a hard knot started to
form above the amputation site. The cancer was back with a vengeance.
The tumor got larger and larger, and it became increasingly difficult for
Kevin to walk because the weight of the tumor threw him off balance. He
never gave up, and he continued to walk unassisted even though the pain must
have been excruciating. We tried
one more surgery to make certain nothing else could be done, and our fears
were realized. Kevin came home from the hospital on Friday on heavy-duty
pain medication, again getting out of the car unassisted and running around
the house. However, this time, even though he was fighting with all of
his inner and physical strength, he was getting weaker and weaker. On
Monday, April 14, I knew it was time to help him. His suffering was too
much for either of us to bear. After calling my veterinarian, I asked my
neighbor to help me carry him to the car, because he was too large for me to
carry by myself. We put him on a blanket and started to carry him, but
Kevin made us put him down. He got up (even though he had not walked for
several hours), and he walked on his own to the car. It was that iron
will – one last time – one last valiant effort by the greatest dog I have
ever known. That walk took every bit of strength he had left.
By the time we got to the hospital, he was too weak to get up and had
to be carried inside. Kevin died peacefully in my arms as my heart broke
into pieces. But as I felt him slip away and take his last earthly
breath, I had a sensation deep in my soul and could visualize Kevin running on
all four legs, barking and playing at Rainbow Bridge.
I only got to have Kevin in my life
for eight years, but they were eight fantastic years. I recently read a
story written by the late Tim Russert about a friend who had lost his son to
diabetes at age 17. Tim had
comforted his friend by telling him a story about making a deal with God.
I feel this story is also befitting of Kevin and me.
If
God came to you and said, ‘I will make you a deal.
I will give you a great, beautiful, intelligent Golden Retriever who
will be loyal and loving every day of his life. You can keep him for
eight years, but then I need to take him back.” Would you make that
deal with God? I can say yes, I would make that deal in a heartbeat. Those eight years with Kevin gave me indescribable joy and
taught me a valuable lesson about continuing to fight even when the odds are
stacked against you. And above
all, those eight years showed me what faith, hope, and love truly are. One of Kevin’s friends, Martha, summed up Kevin’s life in
this way: “Kevin is one of those dogs put on earth to teach us about faith,
spirit, and forgiveness in the face of adversity.”
That says it all.
The words from this beautiful song
poignantly tell Kevin’s story:
Spend all your time waiting
For that second chance
For a break that will make it okay
There’s always some reason
To feel not good enough
And it’s hard at the end of the day.
In the arms of the angels
Fly away from here
You were pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You’re in the arms of the angels
May you find some comfort here.
Kevin’s spirit lives on in every
great dog who silently waits in a shelter for a second chance.
His spirit lives on in every person who is there to give that great dog
a second chance. May God bless
you, Kevin, and may He keep you in His loving care until we meet again.
I loved you the minute I met you, and my love for you grew stronger with each
passing day and each passing year. That love will never end. It
will continue on until we are together once again.
So, Kevin, my sweet baby, until we
meet again …
Bark. Play. Run on four legs. Enjoy
perfect health and eternal happiness at Rainbow Bridge. You are in the arms of the angels ... may you find
some comfort there.
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