This is my husband's favorite photo of Geni during happier times.1995 (?) - 2009
Today is a sad, sad day because everyone's favorite sata has left us. Geni, the street dog that showed up at our doorstep in 1998, an hour or so before Hurricane Georges was to devastate Puerto Rico, has called it a life. She hasn't been herself for a while, several months, in fact, but in the last few days she simply stopped eating, a clear sign that her body was calling it quits after almost 14 years.
That's not surprising, given that Geni has been the survivor of Cushing's Disease since 2003, an aggressive mast cell cancer that required a terribly invasive surgery in 2006, and diabetes since earlier this year. A little body can only take so much, and Geni, "The Miracle Dog," as her vet liked to call her, was a born survivor, who survived the mean streets of Guaynabo. But a todos nos llega la hora, and the bell finally tolled for Geni.
I first saw Geni 11 years ago, meandering on our street in Guaynabo, looking for food, a homely stray dog that had obviously recently had a litter of puppies. I've often wondered what those puppies must have looked like, given that Geni had such a genetically creative look herself (she seemed to be a mix of almost every dog!).
I started leaving food out for her, which she would gladly eat but she never approached me, and she ran away when I tried to get close to her. That went on for several weeks, until we stopped seeing her for a few days and I thought, sadly, that something bad and inevitable had happened to her. But on the day Hurricane Georges hit, she showed up, obviously hurt, on our doorstep, seemingly knowing that we were her last chance for survival.
My husband and I didn't know what to do because she had never come close enough for us to pet her and we didn't know how she would react to being carried inside (she didn't want to step through the gate into our house and we were minutes away from the winds starting to howl). We came up with the idea of throwing a towel around her so she would not be able to hurt us and that's how my husband brought her inside.
After that, she never left us again. Sometimes, my husband would forget to lock the gate, and when I came home from work, my neighbor (in true Puerto Rican chismosa form) would inform me of all of Rusty's doings and of his meandering around the neighborhood. But not Geni, no. Geni had stayed put, right next to the kitchen door, awaiting us, even when the gate was wide open, refusing Rusty's invitation to follow him to freedom.
The only times Geni would go out and run into the streets were on trash nights when my husband put out our trash cans and then Geni loved to run past him, and up and down the street. We figured out that trash night must have been boon time when she was a hungry stray and so she still looked forward to whatever morsels-in-the-garbage she could find on those nights.
Geni always had the appetite of an animal that has known hunger, and that's why her rapid decline over the past week or so has been so heartbreaking, especially for my husband, who has witnessed and handled it all first-hand given that I'm still in Puerto Rico. Geni would eat anything and everything you offered her, including her own or another dog's poop, which she thought of as a true delicacy. For most of her years with us, she even had a weight problem and her various vets always recommended that we watch her diet.
Geni's name was proposed by my sister's girls, who back in their childhood were great fans of Madeleine, the cartoon girl who lived in France and who adopts a stray she calls Genevieve. That was Geni's full name, but she always went by her nickname, which was variably misspelled at different vets as Jenny, Jeni, Jennie, etc. But Geni didn't mind.
The best thing about Geni was her gleeful personality. She was the most loving, accommodating and affectionate dog you could imagine. She never bit or nipped a human being (in her younger days, she did chase and bite a few dogs in the butt, as they were running away from her) and only mildly yelped at Rusty when he got a little too amorous (she was spayed, he wasn't neutered yet). Even Darwin took advantage of Geni's legendary good temper, treating her as his personal toy, rubbing himself against her face, her ears and, at least on one occasion, boxing her face with his front paws.
During this last year of her life, Geni's favorite thing was her wonderful, comfy bed, given to her by her fairy Godmother, titi D, and her warm fleece blanket, which she liked to toss around her bed, when the spirit moved her and she had the energy. Geni loved to be petted, and would insist on further petting by gently but firmly placing her paw on your knee, your hand, whatever was near. Geni loved when Dr. S stopped by and gave her some TLP (tender loving petting).
But more than anyone Geni loved my husband. She would always welcome him home when he returned from being away (whether from a trip, from work, or just from being out on an errand) by running as fast as she could toward him and then back to the house or apartment. This year, there was no running anymore, just a little mild trotting, but the glee was always there (she never was that enthusiastic in her welcoming of me).
At our yard in our erstwhile city home she loved to run round and round on the grass so fast that we feared she would break one of her spindly legs (she always looked more like a sheep than a dog). Thankfully, she never did injure herself that way (although she did manage to slip and fall a few times on the tile floor of the house, which she found too slippery). She really liked the wall-to-wall carpeting in the small apartment near the woods.
Unlike Rusty, however, Geni was never a great lover of walks on the leash, although in later years she did come to enjoy them now and then, especially when she figured out that she also (like Rusty) could pee on sign posts, plants, and rocks and claim them as her own. She also never saw the fun in car rides, unlike Rusty, who loved them, and she never did quite figure out what all the fuzz about traveling in a car was.
With Geni's departure, now six months or so after Rusty's, my husband and I are, strangely, dog-less. These two satos were so much a part of our marriage (now almost going on 15 years), and our lives have been so organized around and by them because of their multiple illnesses and special needs, that they will leave a huge void.
My consolation is that we gave Geni the best life we could and a life she would've never been able to dream of as a stray dog in Puerto Rico. In Ohio, Geni was happy and we were happy with her, and we didn't want her to suffer even one more day, even if that meant my not being able to say a last goodbye in person.
Tonight, Geni will rest next to Rusty, at my parents' in law place in West Virginia, which she loved. The last time we took her there, a few months ago, she managed to leave the compound (as they call it) and went exploring God knows where, looking for dens and secret places in the woods, like every street dog dreams of doing. But age had taken its toll, and we knew that even those trips to WV were becoming too hard on her.
Tonight Geni rests in peace, without pain or discomfort or illness. May her beloved, sweet soul roam her favorite haunts without fetter or fear, and may she always remember how much those she leaves behind loved and cherished her.
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