07/02/2026
Giving Credit Where Credit is Due
❤️ 🌳 💔 🌳 ❤️
There are days and experiences that fill you with joy and passion from the inside, and then there are occasions when you want to hide under a blanket in a dark room for days. This week has pushed me into a depressive state of hiding from the world to lick my wounds. Unfortunately, this morning made the whole year awful for my little farm and family.
When you have grown so accustomed and familiar with your little circle, change can be difficult and unwelcome. We grow used to each other’s habits, quirks, and presence. We know what to expect and how we will show up for each other in the good, the bad, and the scary times. We know who is going to stand with us in the tough times and who will sit with us during the hard times. We know who is going to endure the elements and the workload, the ones who will be up with us when the clock isn’t our friend. For my son and me, that was our Oakley. She was by far the GREATEST farm dog I have ever known. She was a quiet, easy going, well mannered, little “old” lady dog from day one.
Oakley’s introduction into our lives wasn’t under great circumstances. She was an impulsive buy when I was dealing with a broken heart from a crumbling marriage, healing from a marital affair, an early pregnancy, the loss of another beloved pet, and life’s overall uncertainty in 2017. Even when she was just a few months old, she was a quiet and calm mannered lady who wasn’t easily excited. I was so used to energy and chaos with dogs that I myself was unimpressed and initially regretted the new addition. With time, I learned that she was exactly what my soul needed. She taught me to observe and not react, to be present but not active, to be alert but not aggressive. Oakley would only make a noise if something was truly wrong or needed immediate attention. She was quite the perfect little old lady dog and the balm to my decade of pain.
With Tobias, she wasn’t a fan of the noise or
"excitement," but she was always present, always near, and always alert with him. I jokingly said she was the perfect babysitter. Wherever Tobias went, Oakley was near, observing him. On one occasion, she alerted me that he was too close to the water when he was still young and playing in the backyard. She also corrected the goats on their behavior around Tobias; she was never aggressive, but her boundaries were made known. Oakley was by far the kindest soul, comforting sick animals or laying with newborns during their “cuddle” stage of life. Oakley never complained about the constant activities and movements around the farm, though she did loudly grumble occasionally.
After my father’s unexpected death and the early stages of my divorce, she was a quiet comfort and presence for both me and my son. We were briefly separated from Oakley during our adjustment period after moving to my sister’s home. She was temporarily boarded at my mother’s house, where my sister’s four children (three of whom are autistic) kept her well fed and extremely active. Oakley was beloved and gentle with everyone she met. My nieces and nephews loved sharing their food and affection with the sweetest
lady dog.
Unfortunately, since last fall, we noticed that something was wrong with Oakley. She developed a rough cough, which we blamed on crop dust or allergies. During the winter, we joked about the dry air or asthma affecting her. In February, we noticed her weight loss and drop in energy. Yet, she never complained, nor did she ever lag behind. By May, she was on an all you can eat, high protein diet. After the move in June, she was unable to hold her food down and no longer wanted to keep up with us.
A vet appointment was made, and I prepared my son for the unfortunate possibility that Oakley wouldn’t be coming home with us afterward. The vet confirmed my deepest fears and showed us on the x rays what I had hoped wasn’t there. Oakley had grown a large mass in her chest cavity that was crushing her lungs (limiting her air intake) and organs (preventing her from keeping food down). We made the dreaded decision to put her down while we were with her, stopping the pain and starvation from winning. Emotions were high, and love and thank you were shared with her for being the absolute best dog ever. She went quietly, surrounded by her people and in our arms.
Did it destroy us? Yes
Was it a humane thing to do? Yes
People tend to forget to post about the hard days and choices of farming on Facebook, the days when you have to knowingly break your own heart for the comfort of the one who trusts and relies on you to do the right thing.
Oakley now rests by the pond under the trees on our
family farm, right where she loved spending time with us, watching us fish and
play.
July 6th, 2017 – July 1st, 2026
Oakley
(Oakey Dokie)
