Saturday, March 26, 2005

Yvette Patricia Sedayao Katarungan -- R.I.P. 3/25/05

My dearest sweet and scrappy pug Yvette died today, Good Friday and a full moon. Here's her pic again, taken three weeks ago on March 1st:

Yvette, March 1, 2005

I'm getting all teary again... but I need to remember it all before it slips away.

Today I got up early to pack up a lot of old furniture and things I wanted to donate to a yard sale benefit for a friend. After days of rain and gloom, this morning was glorious, so I let Yvette "sunbathe" in the driveway while I did some packing up and moving out. She loves doing this at Mom's house, so I know she was a happy camper!

I brought her in, gave her some water and put out her food, she drank and lied down in the kitchen as my friend Anita and I loaded up her truck. As I was closing up the house to get ready to leave, Yvette let out a weird wail... she was lying near the fridge so I quick looked to see what was wrong... maybe a nail got caught, maybe something else. She stretched out but that sound was weird... I don't usually pick her up, but I did.

"Yvette, baby... what's wrong?" She was a bit glassy-eyed and her breath was a different smell... I just thought she was sleep dreaming with her eyes open.

And then she peed on me.

"Anita, my dog just peed on me! She's never done that before." I put her back down and she just lay down quietly as I changed my shirt, turned on the stereo, locked up and left for the day.


When I got home this evening, I called out to her... but she doesn't usually come out right away because she was hard of hearing too. It’s usually not until my AOL hollers, "You've got Mail" does she make herself known from her special nooks and crannies in my bedroom.

But I went straight to the kitchen to put some leftover lunch food away... and there she was on the kitchen floor. I nudged her teeny bit with my toe: "Yvette, wake up, I'm home!" Then I noticed her eyes were open. She wasn't moving, she wasn't breathing.

Dear God.

I grabbed the phone and called Anita at home: "Anita, Anita, Anita!" Started to breathe harder when I got her voice mail. Called her on her cell phone. I picked up the phone went out on my front step


"Anita, Anita..."

"Yvette's dead," she said.

"Yes, yes!"

"I had a feeling... I had a feeling."

And then I had a huge cry…………

Anita calmed me down enough to find out her vets name and location. My other friend Catheryn was calling me back because we'd been talking in my car. She immediately got my address, Mapquested me and the two of them showed up within 30 minutes with a towel, a box and sheet. I’d waited in my good neighbor Carl’s house for them (it was past 9:30 now)… he reminded me that Yvette and Tyler (my other dog) were lucky to have had such a happy life with me! Of course I could only think of all the things I could’ve done better……………..

I had had a mini-bottle of wine with Catheryn waiting for Anita… it was a bit surreal to see them with a small box and loading up Anita’s truck. Then it was time to get me a bag – or rather a basket of laundry – so I could spend the night with Anita across town. But first to take care of Yvette…

The two cars went to the Eagle Rock Emergency Vet where Anita had talked to a woman about prices for different services. An entire family speaking Spanish was waiting for word about their pet when I young vet tech came out. Anita was so calm: “We called about a dog that just passed away.”

The young curly haired man started rattling off some prices for all the different things we could have done: “expensive” for cremation, the $20 was for us to keep the dog until tomorrow, you have to arrange everything yourself with the cremation company… oh it was better to do this and that and not preferable to do this and not that…

We all must have looked stunned because he finally gave up and said, “You spoke to a woman? Let me go get her – I don’t work up front so I don’t really know all the prices and such.”

Good, good riddance. (I swear I’m sending a letter to make sure you don’t EVER greet anyone at the front desk, EVER.)

The other vet tech came out quickly and was very empathetic – perfect technique for this line of work. “I’m sorry, it’s so sad.”

The fellow took Yvette into the back. “Do you want her collar?” he came back asking. The answer was no – Anita had already taken her tags off for me, but I couldn’t keep the collar, it was too much. But I did give her a plastic rosary my mom gave me: “Keep this with her, please.”

And that set the tears off again.

In the background I’d heard that the family waiting was going to have to pay $3,000 for some procedure… OMG, I was lucky with Yvette… nothing major throughout her entire life. Another family came in with their little funky spaniel. I said, “Lookie! Their dog’s alive”…Which let loose more waterworks.


Made some cathartic phones calls and am writing here at Anita’s, falling asleep at the keyboard… I had so badly wanted to take Yvette out for a walk in the full moon but I guess she had other plans for that. And Mom’s silly phrase she’d tease me with because I STILL wasn’t married came back to my head: “Full Moon, Empty Arms.” Now it’s taken a different meaning… just a big empty ache in my gut.

Tomorrow I will deal with my reactions to Yvette’s passing and my empty apartment. Something about hoping she’s seeing and hearing and running around with a full-nosed Tyler sunbathing all day… that will let me to sleep tonight.

Good night, sweet pug. I miss you so much already.