Twinkle Twinkle Little Starla

I had driven all the way to the next town to pick up the puppy. My husband had only agreed to a new puppy if it was a Jack Russel cross. I just left out the other breeds that the pup was also crossed with. 

The lady that I got the pup from had told me it was an accidental litter, someone had left a gate open and the Border Collie x Lab had gotten to the Jack Russel x Pug. And as a result, we are contributing towards the dogs being fixed. So, there was Jack Russel cross in her. Somewhere. 

The lady had sent me a few photos in the weeks after I had booked the pup. I had already fallen in love with this puppy, long before we made the trip to pick her up. The cutest little black face would peer curiously into the camera, her squished nose making her expression look slightly worried. We were picking her up just after she turned eight weeks old. The lady said I can decide on a name and she would try and get her used to it before she came home with us. The pup had one tiny white fleck on her back paw that reminded me of a star. After looking at the photos over the weeks, I finally decided on the name Starla. It seemed perfect.

When I arrived at the address, I was invited inside to pick little Starla up. She was much smaller than I expected. She immediately settled in my little boy’s arms and we happily returned home. 

I knew from that first moment that I needed to love this dog more than I had ever loved a dog before. I knew that I could not stop loving her, even for a single moment. I had to love her with everything in me. Something inside of me knew that I had to love harder because it would not be for longer.

My boy refused to let her sleep anywhere else, except in his bed. It lasted one night, as we expected, and she was promptly moved to our bed. It was the first time I had ever allowed a dog to sleep in bed with me. Her tiny figure on my feet was so comforting.  Like a weighted blanket used to ease anxiety.

Like most puppies, Starla enjoyed destroying anything she could sink her teeth into. For the first time in my life, I didn’t get cross. I laughed at some of the things she found. She was housetrained within a few weeks, although she would still sneakily go in certain rooms of the house that we didn’t frequent.  I even laughed at this naughtiness.

This dog became the best part of my day. Every afternoon when I got home from work, she would run up the driveway with the naughtiest, most excited expression on her face. I remember one day thinking to myself that I must never forget that face. It made my heart so happy. I would sing “Twinkle Twinkle Little Starla” to her and my boy and I would point out all the pretty stars at night. She would snuggle against my legs every night, making me feel safe, comforting me after long, hard days. 

And then, as with every great love story, tragedy struck. Starla became sick. I tried everything I knew to help her through it. I Googled like a crazy person. Eventually, after a full day of her not eating or drinking and not keeping anything in, I borrowed money to take her to the vet. 

The vet was more than a little rude. He examined little Starla and said she needed to be put on a drip. But he will only do it if we pay a deposit. I started crying and told him that I don’t have that kind of money. He advised me that I could borrow or make some other plan, but he will not admit Starla without the deposit. Eventually, he sent us home with a little bit of medicine and a: “Good luck.” 

Another day passed and my little Starla was getting worse. My husband got an advance on his salary and we rushed Starla to the emergency vet. Again, we were greeted with rudeness. This time from a receptionist who seemed to be hard of hearing.

While my husband took care of the admin, I took my pup to the vet. He did a few tests and confirmed, she needs to be admitted and put on a drip. At this point, I no longer cared about the costs. At least the emergency vet didn’t want a deposit before admitting her. 

He called his assistant and they took her to the hospital. We waited a little while and then the receptionist told us the vet wanted to see us. I knew immediately what he was going to say. My precious little Starla was no longer with us. I started sobbing uncontrollably. For days, I was completely inconsolable, lost in my own grief.

I have never mourned a death as hard as I mourned my precious Starla. To this day, there is a dull ache in my heart, an emptiness that can’t be completely filled. I hope that time will heal this wound, but so far, the dull ache has not gotten any better.

I often read people’s judgemental comments on social media about why someone doesn’t take their dog to the vet and I want to scream at them. People always say vets will make a payment plan, they will help your dog. No. No, they won’t. I have never met a vet who was willing to allow us to make a payment plan. Had that first vet been willing to help, my precious Starla would still be with us and I would not have to carry this emptiness with me. I also find it interesting that a visit to the vet is more expensive than a visit to a medical doctor. My subsequent dogs will be covered by a pet medical aid. I will not carry any more emptiness with me.