Wednesday, 11/2/05, at 4:25 A.M., I had to tell the emergency veterinarian to stop CPR on the joy of my life, JenBur’s Lady Shana, because she was brain dead.  I cannot describe the devastation and pain I am going through.  I brought this girl into this world, breaking open her sack, cutting her cord, making sure she was breathing, and then giving her to her mom, Lucy, to start nursing and getting cleaned.  She has crossed the Bridge at three years old and is now, hopefully, happily romping with her sire, PADDS Fire Walker and Jabbo (Octavia of Clinauid), the boxer I grew up with.

Shana was playing in the forest preserve with her mom, Sarazan’s Lady Lucy, and three of her other friends.  This is a safe area where they always romped off-leash.  There was a freak accident and she got hit by a car on a service road.  The driver never stopped.  Shana was able to make it back to my son who called me immediately.  We raced her to the emergency and critical care vet.  She had a punctured lung, a big gash on her side, a concussion and some abdominal injuries they hadn’t determined the extent of yet.  She was near death when we got there and they did an expert job removing the air from her chest and bringing her color back and heart rate down.  We thought the most critical time had passed.  She needed a chest tube at 11:30 P.M. and seemed to be doing better:  heart rate stabilized and blood values good.  But at 4:01 A.M., we got a call that she was in cardiac arrest and they didn’t think they could bring her back.

Crying hysterically, my son had to drive me there with my husband and other kids following.  It was so hard to tell them to stop CPR.  I wanted to scream and yell to bring her back to me.  I actually yelled at the doctor for not calling me sooner so I could hold her while she was dying.  Instead my family and I had to hug and talk to the beautiful love of our lives as her body temperature turned cold.

How could this have happened?  My ever so spunky and cuddly, full of life, always wanting to play baby now lay lifeless.  She’ll never nudge me with her ball again.  Dropping it for me to throw, then just as I‘m grabbing it, snatch it away and laugh at me.  She’ll never play tag, keep-away and tug-of-war with her mom, Lucy, again.  Shana will never get pestered by her puppies, Kayla and Jersey again, never chase and rough-house with them again.  She’ll never get that last point she needed for her Championship.  She’ll never be alert, focused and attentive in the ring to Stan and Jane Flowers and Sandee Leschewski again.  And what hurts the most is she’ll never greet me at the door again with hugs and kisses and she’ll never cuddle up on the couch and in bed with me again.  How will I ever get beyond this intense pain?  Hugging my other dogs helps momentarily.  I know in time, I’ll be grateful I have her daughters to carry on for her.  But oh, the tears keep coming.

Good-bye my love.  Shana, I will always hold you dear in my heart. You will always be my Champion.  You have taught me to love life and always find fun in life.  I will always be indebted to you for all I have learned from you.  And I will always miss you.  Have fun with your Dad and Jabbo at the Rainbow Bridge.

You are in my heart forever.


Jennifer Crane and JenBur Boxers

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