Kalbi and The Rainbow Bridge

I’m cramming this post with as many photos and videos of him as I possibly can, so I apologize in advance it’s hard to read. I also apologize for jumping between past and present tense. I’m not sure how to navigate writing this during and after different parts of it occur and I’m just rolling with the emotions.

My best friend’s health has reached the point where his bad days outnumber his good ones and I’m unable to provide him with a painless and fulfilling life any longer.

Since I scheduled his at-home euthanasia appointment, each day has fallen into one of two categories:

Kalbi has a good day	Kalbi has a bad day
“Yay! He’s playing a little and cuddling with me and being a little more active!” “Maybe I’m making a mistake.” *Feeling guilty that I’m doing this too soon*	“The poor little guy is sleeping all day, can barely walk without wobbling and ramming his head into things, collapses or stalls in place seeming to forget where he is, and is peeing/pooping indoors without even knowing he’s doing it. He may not even make it to his appointment.” *Feeling validated in my decision* *Feeling guilty about getting comfort from his suffering*

We’re throwing a small get-together for Kalbi’s friends to visit him and say goodbye on November 12th. I’ve been dreading the possibility he’ll have a good day for that (or even worse, for his last day) and someone will tell me “He looks fine! Are you sure about this?” and I’ll have a meltdown.

But I don’t want him to ever have a bad day, no matter how it makes me feel. I’ll deal with whatever comes my way and carry on with the plan regardless. I want every day he has left to be good for him.

A Eulogy

If you haven’t had the pleasure of meeting Kalbi, he’s a silly little guy. His breed is called “Formosan Mountain Dog” which basically means Taiwanese Village Dog. Love and Second Chances is a local org that brings them here and finds them forever homes, so there’s lots around here and none of them look the same. They’re pretty much super-mutts.

The Doggiest Dog

Kalbi is the doggiest dog. If you looked up dog in the dictionary, his picture should be there.

Daisy (paraphrased)

He’s medium-sized at about 35 lbs., has a muscular torso and legs, floppy triangular ears, enormous abyssally deep brown eyes, a big houndy snout with an iconic black smudge down the front, and a dark purple tongue (probably a Chow Chow thing, but it’s fun to tell people he’s part giraffe). His medium-length fur is always soft and never needs a bath unless he rolls in something gross or gets skunked (twice! 🙄).

He’s like the every-dog.

When he was at full power, he could seamlessly switch between being lazy — lounging on the couch or his burrow bed for hours — and being an energetic adventure boy who could knock out 5+ mile high-difficulty hikes better than I could. He’s down for whatever.

A Strong Independent Dog Who Don’t Need No Man

When I first got him, he was a rebellious little bastard. He hated crate training, and gradually destroyed the first one I got him in ways I still can’t fathom. He wasn’t left alone in it for very long and it had sturdy metal bars, but he probably only needed one or two more sessions in there to break a Kalbi-sized hole in it. I got so frustrated with it that I just decided to throw caution to the wind and let him stay out while I left the house for a grocery run. I was certain I’d be coming home to a trashed apartment.

As I unlocked the door and walked in, he was just lying on the couch wagging his tail. He did a big stretch and hopped down to come greet me. Nothing was out of place except his toys were strewn about a bit. I think it was one of the first moments he and I understood each other. If I respect him and his desire for freedom and agency, he won’t fuck up my place. He never spent another minute in a crate.

From that day, I tested the waters with him on everything and it continued to hold true. He free feeds and drinks from bowls I promised him would never stay empty. He was taken from a world of scavenging for survival on the streets so his life with me was always going to be one of abundance. His weight never shifted more than a pound since I got him and he gradually stopped eating random stuff off the ground on our walks as he came to recognize he didn’t have to do that anymore (and as I gave him treats for leaving it).

He has always had terrible recall unless I had treats he could smell or hear. I’d get him doing it on a good rhythm, then as soon as I try to wean him off the treats he’d stop. He has me trained to know he ain’t running when I call unless he gets his paycheck. And to be fair, English is his second language.

Beloved By All

I’ve improvised well over a hundred songs about him over the years, often featuring other artists in Kalbi’s entourage.

Before he lost his sight, I could bring him anywhere — bars, house parties, restaurants with patios — and he’d be the best behaved chill little guy there.

With only one exception in his entire life here in the US, I’ve never had trouble finding friends to keep an eye on him when I had to travel without him. He has aunties and uncles all over California (and even Oregon now) who’re always happy to watch him. He gets along with all his doggie cousins — even the bratty little puppies who make him a little grumpy sometimes.

He charms everyone he meets immediately. When we lived in Oakland, all the baristas at St*rbucks knew his name and sometimes even had a puppuchino ready for him when they saw one of my to-go orders come in. Whenever I take him out for a walk, he gets treats from all the other dog owners in the neighborhood. He’s even made best friends with Charles, one of our condo complex’s maintenance staff, who gave Kalbi the last bite of his burrito the first day they met and has carried treats in his pocket for him ever since.

*Starbucks is a shitty union-busting company I minimize my patronage of nowadays, but I confess I still occasionally grab a scab coffee.

Tidbits

I got this photo of him at his “7th” birthday party in January 2022. When I got Kalbi, the paperwork told me he had just turned 2, but it was probably inaccurate. His fur turned grey and white and his health declined on several fronts uncommonly early. I suspect he’s closer to 12 instead of almost 9. We’ll never know for sure, of course.

Early in our relationship, before Kalbi recognized me as his person, he got a terrible stomach flu — probably from scavenging on the Oakland streets. He managed to do this late Friday night, so we had to endure his projectile diarrhea all weekend before he could get in at the vet clinic Monday morning and get antibiotics. Within 6 hours of his shot, he felt better and immediately seemed to recognize my value for him. He made eye contact way more and was more responsive to me in general. As a negative side effect, he started showing signs of separation anxiety when I’d walk away, and we worked on that for the coming years.

I didn’t get my security deposit back for the apartment. 😅

He never learned the proper way to sit on laps, even though it was one of his favorite things. He wouldn’t sit still, he’d put all his weight right on a testicle or bladder every time, and he’d stand fully upright so you couldn’t see the TV or whatever else you were doing.

This boy loved kisses. He could do nothing but lick my hand for upwards of twenty minutes and be the most content little dude ever. He’d even do it while I was trying to do my at-home workout routines. Boy had an oral fixation for sure.

Kalbi has strong opinions about how fast people are going. At first it was mostly people on scooters and bikes he’d try to pull over, but once we got him used to those he focused on his fellow dogs.

The Plan

Last year, Kalbi’s older brother Raji passed away. Kalbi and I were with him when it happened.

Raji’s mama hired Blue Pearl Pet Hospice to come to their home and give Raji the most comfortable possible transition. The veterinary doctor arrived after we spent the morning fawning over him, feeding him his favorite treats and cuddling with him. They walked us through the process one more time before we began, then made sure we were all ready before taking each step.

Once it was time, she gave him a sedative. He didn’t even seem to notice it, relaxing on his favorite spot on the couch. Then he slowly fell asleep over 15-20 minutes as we cuddled and talked to him. Then, once he was definitely asleep, she gave him a couple more injections to prevent pain and to give him a peaceful end. We stayed with him for a while, continuing to talk to him and wish him well on his next journey. We imagined what he might be doing with all his puppy energy back over the rainbow bridge, unburdened by his earthly body, and assured him we’ll eventually catch up with him ourselves.

When we were ready, the vet bundled him up and took him away. A week or so later, they sent his mama a beautiful little keepsake about the size of a coaster with his paw print and name on it, made from his ashes. She keeps it in what I’d call a shrine in her living room.

It was the best possible way to experience such a heartbreaking event I could think of with the resources we have. So I returned to them for Kalbi and hope to have it go just as smoothly.

How I’m Doing

It’s hard to know. I feel awful all the time at different degrees. I’ve been grieving this moment for over two years, since he was given only a year to live when he was diagnosed. With the help of his medication and some behavioral changes, he was able to get an extra year of bonus time out of it. I have absolutely no complaints about this blessing.

I’m sure I’ll be a wreck the first couple times I wake up and he’s not tapping his claws on the laminate floor to wake me up for his walk an hour early. Or the first few times I start talking to him out loud and turn around to see his empty bed. I’ll do what I always do with bittersweet memories and feel the fuck outta my feelings.

Honestly, I’m a wreck already. I can’t really focus on looking for a new job. I’m too stressed and distracted to handle the daily tedium of applying for roles. I’m avoiding social events larger than a handful of people with lots of rest between. I’m hoping it’ll pass to the degree that I can be functional again soon, but I know I can’t rush that either.

2023 really, really sucks y’all.

My Next Dog

I originally thought I’d take a long rest before getting another pet. When SooCoo left, I waited over a year before adopting Kalbi because I really needed that time, but she ended up thriving up north in the more suburban atmosphere, recovered wonderfully, and lived several years longer than expected. So it didn’t feel the same way. She didn’t pass away with me there.

I also live alone now and I rely on Kalbi for things people may not realize. He can tell when I’m feeling down and comes over to cuddle with me and lick my hand. He keeps me from staying in hyperfocus mode. Whenever he comes over to me at my desk, he breaks me out of my trance state and I can remember to drink water, use the restroom, stretch, go for a walk, and do other human things most people probably don’t need help remembering to do.

Taking care of him helps me remember to take care of myself. We take our meds at the same time. We exercise around the same time. Back before he was sleeping 18-22 hours per day, hearing him snoring would remind me to log off and go to bed instead of staying up until 3am. He helps me a lot, especially living on my own.

So I’m probably not going to wait long before I start looking for a new dog. I’d really like to be able to train them a little bit before we get too deep into the winter months.

I Don’t Know How to End This Post

Thanks for your presence and supportive words. I needed to vent all these thoughts and post a bunch of photos of him for my own process. I always know each time I adopt a pet: this is what I’m signing up for, and it’s always completely worth it.

I’ve been writing an article about how I feel about owning pets and its philosophical implications, how I square my beliefs about animals having “souls” of equal weight to humans and still justify keeping one as a pet when that can be compared to confinement or even slavery in some ways. And how those beliefs affect the ways I treat my pets. I may be inspired to finish it while I’m training a new puppy, but we’ll see.

I always tried to give Kalbi a better life than I imagine he’d have had back on the Taipei streets. It’s a place I’ve never been, but it seems nice on Google street view and probably safer for a stray dog than Oakland at least. But I think I’ve given him a good life in exchange for the freedom he may’ve enjoyed there. I certainly tried.

He’s a very, very good boy. The goodest boy. And I hope I see him again someday, somehow.