Teddy

I picked Teddy up from the groomer yesterday afternoon and as I’ve done the last couple times, I took him over to visit his “Mommy.”  Gram was asleep again, though; in bed.  I woke her and said, “Teddy’s here."  “That’s not Teddy,” she snapped, her eyes barely open and her head barely cocked to the side enough to even look down and see him.  She turned her head back and went immediately to sleep.  Stefanie came in Gram’s room to meet Teddy.   She hadn’t met him before, but heard a lot about him.  She laughed as she told me that every time Gram sees a dog, she calls it Teddy.  Meanwhile, today I bring Teddy and she tells me it’s not him.  Go figure.

I remembered the day we sat in the attorney’s office.  I laughed as Gram told the attorney that Teddy should be written into the Will to go to me.  With her devilish grin, she turned to me and winked.  I smirked, “That’s fine with me.  You will WAY outlive him anyway.”  Of course, the idea of a nursing home NEVER occurred to me at that time.  Who would have known!  Needless to say, I have Teddy.  I’ve had him for the last 5 years.  Prior to Gram going to ManorCare, she was at Elmcroft assisted living for a year and a half.  Prior to that, she lived with me for about 8 months.  When I moved her in with me 5 years ago, Teddy, of course, came long. 

When I remember back to that day at the attorney's office, I think Gram probably knew something was going on with her.  One day, out of the blue, she surprised me by asking me to take her to have her Will done.  She also wanted to pre-pay her funeral and buy her headstone.  I was surprised because I had asked her about having a Will done in the past and she just seemed to bypass or change the subject.  She had a seriousness and determination about her this time.  I agreed to take her.  It was probably 10 years ago.   At that time, none of us knew the extent of her disease or where it would take us.  She had memory lapses, yes, but she was in her 80’s after all and they seemed very “normal.”  She still had command of her cognitive facilities.   

In hindsight, though, Gram did me a huge favor.  In one day, we had her Will, Living Will and Power of Attorney documents drawn up.  We visited the funeral home and prepaid her funeral.  (Gram had cashed in her life insurance policies some years before.)  She also selected and purchased her grave marker.  She didn’t need cemetery plots.  She had purchased 4 of them back in the 1950’s at Mt. Royal Cemetery.  Gram made me her financial Power of Attorney.  She also made me and Tara, my youngest sister, her medical POA.  I remember saying, “Make it Tara.  If we ever got to the point to make any serious medical decisions, I’ll be too much of a mess.”  Funny how life gives you what you need as you go along.  I’ve had to make certain medical decisions for Gram along the way.  I’m sure there will be more.  I’m not a mess.  In fact, I’m very strong and capable.  I know what’s best for her.  Ultimately, when the time comes and Gram decides to call it quits (and I DO believe she’ll decide when she’s had enough), I only have to make a few phone calls and everything will be taken care of.  I’m grateful she did this for me. It was always important to Gram that she take care of me.  Her doing this was not a coincidence.

Back to Teddy:  Teddy, a 75-pound black Lab and Chow mix is Gram’s last baby.  She got him when he was 3 months old; a shelter dog.  Because he would be a big dog and Gram hadn't had a big dog in years (her last dog, Bobo, was a Poodle Bichon mix and lived to be 16), I built a 5 foot chain link fence around a portion of her back yard.  That way, she could just let him out the back door.  Jude, my aunt, helped me with the fence, since it was February and cold and she felt bad.  Gram, though, being Gram, often still insisted on trying to put a leash on Teddy and walk him outside the fence.  "Go ahead," I'd say, "If he sees a rabbit or something, he's going to rip your arm right off your shoulder."  Deaf ears.  Teddy, however, is amazingly gentle and doesn’t have a mean bone in his body.

Teddy went through obedience training.  It was required when we got him from the Western Pa Humane Society.  They taught him things such as heel, stay, sit, down, etc. – all things that are important for the dog’s safety.  Gram wouldn’t participate or work with him during the sessions; she had me do it.  She was content to wait until we got home and teach him her own non-essential tricks, such as “speak” and “bark his age.”  She confused him.  To this day, I still laugh when I say, “Teddy sit” and he “speaks.”  And he keeps “speaking.”   

Gram loved Teddy and he loved her back.  Their relationship was touching to watch; symbiotic in fact.  Teddy was devoted to Gram and took his “job” of caregiver very seriously.  He was gentle with her.  He slept on the bed with her but was always cautious when she moved.  As soon as she stirred, he’d get up, move himself until she got settled back in, and then gingerly lie back down.  If he moved, he was careful not to scratch her or hurt her.  If she was in the chair, Teddy would lie by her feet.  When she ate, his head was on her lap (begging of course). 

Teddy frustrated Gram sometimes, though.  Gram always loved dogs with insatiable appetites.  She loved to feed them, whether it be their own food, leftovers, special treats she bought – whatever.  She always loved dogs that loved to eat.  She’d sneak and feed them from the table (then deny it when she was busted).  Teddy, to her dismay, though, was not a big eater.  This drove Gram nuts.  At times, she’d put his food down and he’d walk away or he’d eat just a little and walk away.  Gram would then yell at him to eat.  Sometimes she’d pick up his bowl and chase him with it, screaming, “Eat it, Goddamn you, eat it!”  Teddy, unknowing, would look at her and slowly turn and walk away, adding fuel to the fire.  Let me be clear, Gram was not abusive to her dogs – or any animal for that matter.  She could however, scream and chase with the best of them.  When Teddy first came to live with me, I couldn’t seem to get him to eat.  I soon realized that until I yelled at him, he wouldn’t eat.  Over time, thankfully, he has gotten over this.

But the disease has taken a toll on Teddy, too.  Until things started to get bad and I began spending more time at Gram’s house, I didn’t really know what was going on there.  It was just her and Teddy.  But what I learned was that Gram got her nights and days mixed up and often would sleep all day.  When she went to bed, she’d take Teddy upstairs and close the door.  The door was such that it had to be pulled to be opened to get back downstairs.  Teddy had somehow learned to open that door upstairs and let himself down to get to the water that was in the dish in the kitchen. 

I noticed, also, when I took Gram grocery shopping, that she was always buying bacon and eggs.  I kept checking the refrigerator because I couldn’t imagine how someone could go through bacon and eggs like she did.  One day, I walked in and saw a whole bunch of bacon and a couple of cooked eggs in Teddy’s dish.  Then it hit me – she was cooking for Teddy!  As her disease progressed, Teddy took on almost a human quality to Gram and I often heard her referring to him as if he was a person.  She “cooked for him” like she did for my grandfather when he was alive.  I also learned that bacon and eggs was one of the few things that Gram could still remember how to make at that time.  So she made it over and over again.  Teddy, the beneficiary, ate a lot of bacon and eggs.

Teddy and I left last night, having not been able wake or interact with Gram.  We’ll try again next time.