Beans: An appreciation

(Mecca and Beans just back from a trip to the vet)

I first met Beans on the day I returned from a grueling canoe trip in the Boundary Waters. I'd emerged from the bathroom after a long-anticipated hot shower and was intercepted by this barking 25 lb dog. I had no warning that we'd be getting a dog, although Mecca had always talked about how much she wanted one. I like dogs, so I said, 'sure, no problem.' While I was off paddling and portaging, Mecca travelled to the Humane Society and found Beans. The dog was left at the humane society because her previous owner -- an old lady -- had died.

At first, Beans treated me like a stranger. She growled and barked as I approached my wife to give her a hug and kiss. And until the day she died, Beans continued to express disgruntlement at each display of affection between me and Mecca.

It didn't take Beans long to warm up to me, and we hit it off just swimmingly. We often enjoyed the same activities together, mainly lying on the couch with the TV on and napping. She also liked chasing our two cats around the house and would sometimes playfully head-butt our little cat Baci.

Like many dogs, Beans was afraid of thunderstorms and firecrackers. But she also feared the sound of flatulence. And if the offending noise came from her, Beans would try to run away from her own butt.

In 2006, at the age of 9, Beans was diagnosed with diabetes. So we began giving her twice daily insulin shots. Despite a little flinching every now again, Beans was a trooper and accepted her medicine. A few months after that, I noticed her having a harder time than usual negotiating the back stairway. She kept bumping into things. And to my horror, realized that Beans had gone blind.



We rushed her to the emergency vet who told us that indeed Beans' slowly growing cataracts had rapidly grown overnight. Our little dog could no longer see. But that didn't stop the Beans. Her energy, her appetite and her enthusiasm for life were unbowed.

She would maintain that attitude through several more bouts of illness and (expensive) trips to the vet. But on June 1, 2007 the sickness returned and knocked her down for the last time. She went peacefully at the hands of a skilled veterinarian who assured us that putting her to rest was the best thing for her. And we knew it. The fight had gone from her eyes. Mecca held Beans as the doctor applied the lethal overdose of anesthetic. I held Mecca. We both sobbed as we felt the life finally slip away from our little dog.

Over the five years we had Beans, we spent thousands of dollars on her. Maybe as much as 10 grand. If you would have told me - before we got her - that I would spend that much money on a dog, I wouldn't have believed it. But she wasn't just a dog. Beans was a member of the family. She was our baby. And we miss her so much.