A bittersweet thank you

I have got to stop reading this thread ... People are starting to stare.

Dogs are such wonderful creatures ...

 

I really feel for you, crusoes (and everyone else). It's not CLOSE to the same thing, but we had to give our dog up a few weeks ago after he went after our 1-year-old. I was a blubbering mess after it happened and still haven't really gotten over it, and he's happy and just a couple of hours away. I can't imagine what it would be like to have to put him down.

 

I'm sorry, crusoes.

 

What helped is that I was behind her, not looking at her face. She heard me talking and felt me petting her, I'm sure. I know she felt me helping her lay down on the blanket.

 

I couldn't be there with Casey. I was so afraid she'd look at me with her big eyes when there was nothing I could do, and I didn't want that burned into my memory. After we spent time with her before they took her, as we walked out, I couldn't help but look back, fearing, yet hoping, she would look at me one last time. But while she was conscious, she wasn't responsive to movements or noise, and she just stared straight ahead. The mass burst in her abdomen only hours before, so she didn't suffer. We have that to hang onto.

 

We went through the same thing this week with one of our cats. My wife and I found Lanier last August in a park near where we live last August. He was emaciated, matted and stunk to high heaven. He had obviously been there a few months. He was fixed and had a slight collar mark. We didn't know if he was lost or just abandoned.

We brought him home. We slowly got his weight up, got his fur looking better and soon, he was trying to grab chicken or steak pieces off our plates with his paw. No hamburger or ground turkey, though. He knew when we had the good stuff.

Recently we thought he had an allergy. He got a steroid shot and felt better for a week, but then had the same symptoms. Another vet trip Saturday gave us the bad news -- it was FIP (Feline infectious peritonitis), which is both incurable and fatal.

The vet gave him another steroid shot, and we made sure he had plenty of love before we took him back Monday. In fact, he was doing well, he had his normal appetite, and he ate chicken pieces from our hands right up until the trip to the vet.

We were there with him, holding him as he passed hearing our voices telling him how much we loved him. The vets did a heart-shaped clay mold with his front paw prints, and his ashes will be back to us in a week.

He had the best eight months of his life in our home, and we miss the little guy so much.

Making the humane decision can be the hardest thing to do, but our pets give us so much love and devotion, and we owe it to them to do the same when the time comes. God bless the vets and vet techs who provide compassion and professional care for pets and their guardians in those last moments.

Condolences to crusoes & YGBFKM ...

 

Crusoes,

Sorry to hear about Sparky. I may be one of the few posters here, if any who met Sparky. Well, it must have been about 20 years ago. He looked old, but was still a nimble little rascal.

 

oh, do i empathize, bc. no apologies necessary. to this day, the biggest regret of my life was giving up my 3-year-old part german shephard-mutt a year after i'd found her, abused, mangy, and preggers, and loved her back into a loving, trusting dog. long story on why i felt i had to give her up but letting 'skippy' out of my life haunts me to this day.... so i feel ya, knowing you had no choice...

 

You are probably the only one. And thanks for your help with the TV.

 

crusoes: Like everyone else who has posted so wonderfully and from the heart here, my heart goes out to you.

Thirteen years ago, my mom's 12-year-old terrier, Buffy, didn't get up off her oversized pillow that was her throne. Obviously, something was wrong. When I went to her and she was about to feel my touch, she flinched. Then, I saw her eyes, which had turned so yellow.

I immediately cradled her in my arms and we raced to the vet a few blocks away. It was obvious, there was nothing that could be done to save her. My mom agreed and Buffy had to be put down. The vet (how wonderful are these people, anyway?) gave us as much time as we wanted to say our goodbyes. After about 20 minutes, she came back and as she administered the shot, my mom hugged her and told her how much we loved her. I had one arm around mom and the other on Buffy's back.

She slipped away comfortably, but watching my mom's heart break in front of me, not to mention mine as well, was just excrutiating.

A week later, Mom wrote, "I miss Buffy" on her dry erase message board, with a few tears drawn next to it. I replied with, "I do, too," and added a sad face (I know, I know, corny, but...)

A week after she wrote that message -- two weeks after her Buffy was put down -- I came home to find Mom in her bed. She had passed in her sleep and despite my desperate attempts to revive her, I could not.

I'm sure Buffy was waiting for Mom when she went to join her Sept. 28, 1998 and they will be together for eternity.

The worst two weeks of my 47 years on this planet, but thank God we were there for Buffy. I will spend my last breath regretting that I was not there to do the same for Mom.

And that dry erase message board, still sporting our final (written) messages, hangs on the wall 15 feet from where I type this.

I'm so sorry, crusoes.

 

when it is time for 'shockey,' our 9-year-old lhasa apso/shih tzumix, to be put down i am DEFINITELY making sure mrs. shockey loads my crippled butt into the car to be with him for every minute of his final journey. he's been at my side pretty much since i became bedridden bathing me in all the unconditional love we all understand only dogs can do. i am not about to let him go without him knowing i was there for him every step of the way, too.

at their side or not, the final journey is nothing we can EVER purge from our memory, i figure. and the final minutes are about him, not me. i understand some folks just can't stand the thought of being with their best friend at the 't.o.d.' and think no less of those who cannot go through with it. speaking only for myself, i simply cannot imagine leaving shockey with a stranger's face the last he will ever see. i'm weeping just considering the notion.

no way. me and him until the very end. 'marley and me' got it right.

 

It will never not ache.

Still tears my ass up.