As soon as my college roommate Dana and I got to Columbus, Ohio, after graduating from Miami in 1998, we wanted to get a dog. Now mind you, we were probably totally unprepared for a dog, but we wanted one.

That September, shortly after I landed my first job, we went to the Ohio Humane Society and looked. We both immediately fell in love with a little black furball, who was 4 months old. We got her home and named her Bijou, which means jewel in French.

It became apparent really quickly that she was not a Bijou. So instead we named her Montego, since earlier that year we’d gone to Montego Bay, Jamaica, for Spring Break. (Woo!)

Dana and I decided that whenever the day came that we wouldn’t be roommates anymore that Montego would be my dog. But of course, Montego liked Dana more than Montego liked me. This became the theme of our life, with Montego pretty much liking every else more than me. (She used to sleep outside Melissa’s closed bedroom door when we lived in German Village rather than on my bed. I mean, come on. And when Melissa came to visit for Passion ’07, Tego hadn’t seen her in about five years, but it was if they’d never been apart.)

She and I literally moved around the country together, and I’ll never forget how she stood up in the backseat (in her crate) the entire move from Ohio to Atlanta. And how my mom and I had to book a skeezy hotel on Cheshire Bridge because we didn’t know any better and they took dogs.

She was a sweet cuddly dog who liked to rest her head on your knee. I rocked her world when I brought home a little puppy in 2006, but Scout quickly became Montego’s sidekick. If Montego was the sheriff, Scout was her best deputy.

I truly believe the happiest years of her life have been the last few. Minnesota suited her, and so did pack life. I never knew how much she and I both needed a pack until we had one.

Aaron used to say, “Oh she’s going to live forEVER,” when having too many dogs got to be overwhelming. And we thought that she would! She was a spunky, sprightly old lady. Which makes this such a shock.

Up until Monday night even, she was her regular old self. I cannot believe I left her alone all day to deteriorate so rapidly. As soon as I got home, I scooped her up and drove to the vet. I kept my hand on her during the drive, and I could feel the rattle in her breath.

She passed away on her own terms, before I could even sign anything consenting to euthanasia.

I loved her so much.

Montego Merrill Price
May 1998 — October 13, 2010

Thought we were going to have to put her down tonight.

When I got home, no one was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. (Like usual.) Normally, Montego and Eller are sitting there waiting for me (Scout stays in a crate), but not today. It actually took me awhile to FIND Montego, as she was hidden over in a corner behind some boxes. She was slouched weird, almost sitting on her hind end, rather than her legs, slumped against the wall. She didn’t fight me picking her up, and was lightly crying.

I called Aaron and told him to meet me at the vet.

It was a sudden and extreme change. She’d been fine yesterday, eating normally and going on our nightly walk normally. All sorts of things went through my head — cancer, her organs shutting down from age or something, I don’t know what else. But she was in such obvious pain and it was so sudden and extreme, I just didn’t see how we were going to be leaving the office with her.

After an exam, an xray and full bloodwork, all the vet could figure is that it looks like she’s somehow strained her back. There is the possibility that something may be going on with her kidneys, but until we can get a urine sample (which involves a paper plate and I am not joking), we won’t know if it’s her kidneys or not.

And the whole time we were at the vet, I just kept thinking, I can’t believe my poor dog is going to end her life without being groomed. I’m a horrible mother and if I can’t even keep my dog groomed, who would give me a baby?! I apologized to the vet like three times about her hair. Ugh.

Years ago, Aaron and I set a financial limit for health expenses for the dogs. (Not well care, but emergency, heroic measures care.) With multiple dogs and a mortgage and an adoption on the horizon, we have to have a financial limit, but I can see how easily emotion could make you want to toss it out the window in the moment.

She’s resting now, though she still appears to be in some pain. I’m just glad I got to bring her back home with me tonight; I really didn’t think that was going to happen.

She’s been my buddy for so long, it’s hard to fathom.

So Wedded Wednesday will be up late tomorrow.