When witness to Greta's pain, I remember the day we took the Canine Good Citizen (CGC) test. The tester at the "accepting a friendly stranger" station nearly failed her. What happened was the tester knelt down at Greta's eye level, staring her in the face, stroking her shoulder. Greta growled and turned her head to the side, avoiding eye contact. The tester stood and said, "Now, I'm not going to fail her, but you need to keep an eye on that."
The years passed and Greta met numerous people. When children leaned on her arthritic body, she merely yelled, "Aye, Yai, Yai!" at them in a high-pitched voice, telling them to "get off". Over the years I've looked into her eyes and she's growled at me, nudging my hand with her nose, signaling me to stroke her. When I lean into her warm neck she rumbles, a growling purr that I've always imagined to be the breathing sound of a dragon, and as I pet her she purrs more, then I mimick her, then she copies, and we go on like this...purring alternately until her growl fades to a soft hum.
Now that she is in so much pain, being a dog that growled at the friendly stranger during her CGC test, you'd think she would snap at me as I slide her onto the sleeping bag. But she doesn't. She growls and I talk to her and the rumble fades and I pet her and tell her it's not long now. Soon the pain will cease.
She's my girl. As much as the pain stabs her body, she doesn't lash out. She has the self-control of a Buddhist master. She is stronger than most humans will ever be. This is testament to the incredible character of the dog. There is no other being on earth like this.
