Kirra was an Australian cattle dog, or Queensland Heeler. She was my best friend and unless I was going to work, whenever I left the house, wherever I was going, she went with me. For the last 4 years of her life we went to "red rocks" and hiked for 4 to 6 hours every weekend. To say she was a big part of my life would be an understatement.

Well, in August of 2000, she was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. She was only 9 years old and they gave her 2 months to one year to live. She was too weak to even walk around the street. She was very sharp mentally and still wanted to do everything, but couldn't. Around February 2001, she got worse and the vet said maybe 2 more weeks. We started doing everything for her, we cooked wonderful roasts and tenderloins and hand fed her because she didn't want to eat. I came home from work everyday at lunch and brought her hamburgers or chicken sandwiches and hand fed her tiny pieces. We didn't leave the house for months, just stayed home with her every night.

She was still happy and did not seem sick enough to put to sleep, but I knew she would never get well again. It was very sad and I felt like this was killing me too. The vet started giving me the many pills that she had to take (12 each day) in only a one-week supply instead of a months worth… how depressing… they kept saying she would go any day now but she held out for almost 3 months longer. The vets were amazed and couldn't believe it. All this time I was fighting my own indecision about having to put her to sleep because I didn't believe that I should have the power to decide to take her life and even if I did, how can you decide when? What if I cheated her out of a day, or week of life?

Now while I was going through all this, I was praying that I would be there when she did die. I really didn't want to, but I didn't want her to die alone. I wanted to comfort her. I prayed that I could be holding her when the time came, so her spirit and soul would pass up through me when it left, and she would possibly be comforted knowing I was there with her. She got worse and I had to make that terrible decision. I had to do it because she was now very sick and starting to suffer. It was certain that she was going to die very soon and she was hurting.

I took off work on Thursday the 4th of May, 2001 to make all the arrangements. I spent the entire day with her, talking about what was going to happen and why, about our lives together, how proud I was of her, and how I was going to come get her in heaven and we would be together for eternity later and that she would have to wait for me and watch for when I come looking for her. I explained how she was going to feel better and not hurt anymore, and how hard this was for me to do, and how I was doing it for her because of my love for her, to help her. I arranged for the vet to come to my house and do this here, in her favorite place in her home. I arranged for someone to come pick her body up the next morning to have her cremated. After I die, it is my wish that someone will open my ashes and hers and mix them together in the same urn, to be together forever.

Linda, my girlfriend at the time, came home early to spend some time with us. We all sat together for a couple of hours and talked some more. At 6:20 Linda went out to water her flower garden. This is Linda's most favorite thing in the world, her garden, and she loves to work in it. Kirra never goes in it, but as Linda was almost finished, Kirra walked right into the middle of it and stood among the flowers and looked at Linda. That was her gift to her, the memory of Kirra standing in the middle of all these beautiful flowers, in Linda's favorite place. Kirra and Linda came right in then (6:30) and we all sat down together on the floor. Linda and I were sitting 2 feet apart, with Kirra between us. The vet was to come to the house at 7:00. We talked and pet her some, and at 6:40, just 20 minutes before the vet was to be here, she stood up and looked at me strangely. I asked her, "What's wrong with you Kirra? Why are you looking at me like this?" she started to collapse, and she climbed up into my arms. I held her and I told Linda, "Linda, we're losing her, she's dying right here!" I held her and put my head over hers and kissed her and kissed her and told her it was OK and I loved her and would be coming to get her later. She shuddered once and she was gone. This was her last and most precious gift to me. She knew the anguish I was going through mentally, having to have her put to sleep and she didn't want me to have to live with that. She came to me, climbed into my arms and had a heart attack just 20 minutes before they were coming to put her to sleep.

Now I don't know what your beliefs are about God and religion, but I swear to you right here and now that God's very own hand reached right down through my house, through my roof and into my back and out through my chest, and God took Kirra's spirit and soul and it passed right through me and up. I felt it! This was exactly the way I had been praying for this to happen for the past few months. It was absolutely, positively a miracle! I felt everything. It happened absolutely perfect. If even one second were changed, it wouldn't have been right. It was perfect!

Rick Dusek