The Sweetness of "Sugar"

About 15 years ago, my sister Michelle brought my 84-year-old Mom to various places in search of a dog or a puppy for her. It was the last stop on the route home where my Mom met “Sugar,“ an American Eskimo who totally lived up to her name in sweetness. Apparently, lucky for my Mom and our family, Sugar’s previous owner had brought her back to this pet seller because she wasn’t a match for that person’s household. Michelle gave my Mom the most wonderful gift when she stopped into that pet store that day - Sugar was then about 6 months old when my Mom first locked eyes with her for what would prove to be a divine pairing of souls.

As a puppy, Sugar learned proper house training etiquette with little instruction and thrived well with my senior parents who welcomed this little fur angel into their lives with joy and gratitude. My parents both loved her – my Dad would do the daily walks with her while my Mom was in charge of feeding her. Both of them lavished her with petting and attention. Sugar was a part of the family, she would take vacations with them, and sweetened their lives on every front. Sugar, as not all dogs do, became their guardian as well. She was a very alert, conscious dog whose unconditional love was a beacon of light and ended up not only saving my Mom’s life, but also extending the days of both my parent’s lives.

One day, about two years after Sugar had been adopted into the family, my Mom was napping in the den when she had a heart attack. She called out for my Dad who was in the kitchen, but he didn’t hear her. Sugar was right by her side and she told Sugar to go get my Dad. Sugar ran down the hallway to the kitchen, and then proceeded to bark and do little circular motions of running just a little back to my Mom and then ran back to him to motion him to follow her. He took the sign and followed Sugar to my Mom where he then called an ambulance and saved her life. My Mom’s heart attack was the beginning of a few health issues, for both my parents, which necessitated a change in my parent’s living alone.

When it was decided my Mom and Dad and I would live together, of course, Sugar was in the mix too, gratefully. This kind little being would become my partner in taking care of my parents and assisted me in ways I had no way of knowing until life played out. For instance, my bedroom was at the other end of the house from where my parents slept. Sugar would sleep with them in their bed. One night, just before I retired, maybe a year into living with my parents, Sugar ran down to my room and started to scratch on my door to get my attention. She had never scratched on any door much less mine, until this particular evening – I opened the door and she started to bark and nervously began running back to my parent’s bedroom. I followed close behind and found my Dad on the floor, - trying to get up on his own, but faltering. My Mom could not help him on her own and had called out to me for help, but I didn’t hear her. It was Sugar, our personal “Lassie” dog to the rescue that came to deliver the message. Because Sugar was there, I didn’t feel so alone in my responsibility in taking care of my parents. She became a “service dog,” without any special training – a white, soft, furry, very feminine intuitive who loved unconditionally and unceasingly.

After my Dad passed, Sugar really took on the lead in consoling my Mom in many ways – she was my Mom’s constant companion even as my Mom slept more and became less active. It was like Sugar knew her calling and place in the universe and would settle into that routine (lay/sleep next to my Mom) the moment my Mom’s eyes would close.

I could have never gotten through elder-caring those 9+ years without Sugar. She brought joy and support to a journey that was both sacred and exhausting. Sugar brought love to the room, when honestly, in some moments, I was just trying to find enough energy to get through the day without losing my sanity for all there was to be and do.

After my Mom passed, Sugar lived for another year and a half. In that last chunk of time, Sugar brought me much peace as we got used to our new normal together - every night when I came home from work was now “our” couch time. She and I had accomplished our task of making my parent’s last chapters as loving, safe, and healing as we possibly could. When Sugar got sick, I attempted to do the same thing for her – to give her the best last chapter possible. She was such a gift whose presence brought grace to anyone who needed lifting. I feel so blessed to be missing her.