End of an Era

Last week the date finally came and it was time to let the dog go. We made the appointment for Friday so that we could have the weekend to help the kids in case they were upset. Of course, it would be easier for us too. I gave him a nice walk and then fed him quite a bit of cheese. My husband came home so that I could go alone with the dog. The dog had always loved me best and I wanted to be there for him. I was trying to be calm because I had to got out to do this thing, but my husband started to cry. DH is such an amazingly caring guy. I am so very lucky to have him.

We arrived for the appointment at the end of the day. I paid the money and since we had decided to have him cremated, I had to fill in forms. One of the assistants showed me a choice of font for the cedar box for the remains and I told her that she would have to pick. I had no opinion. I was still trying to be calm, but obviously it was wearing a bit thin. We got him into the room and onto the table. He has never really minded the vet because she fed him! The vet had these bacon strips and I can tell you he really enjoyed them. I was feeding him bacon strips while she gave him the injection and I don't think he even noticed what she was doing. I was trying not to cry, and failing horribly. Alright, I was bawling and telling him he was a good dog over and over. Finally the vet told me that he was gone. Then I entered the realm of deep sobs. They were very kind and gave me time alone with him. I didn't want to stop petting him because then he would really be gone. Since I had had the foresight to have paid everything I was able to just leave. Of course, I was in no shape to drive even the short distance home so I sat in the car and tried to pull myself together. Another women was just arriving at the vet to pick up the ashes of her late cat. Her cat had died unexpected at home after dental surgery. It helped a lot to share a few moments with her. When I got home, my youngest was just waking up. I was numb.

My youngest in not yet two and so while I tried to explain to him that our dog had died, I am not sure what he understood. I told him the dog was broken and could not be fixed. At one point in the weekend, he patted the dog bed and looked at me questioningly. He was looking like he wanted to say "where is he?" I had put the dog dishes away and he got them out again and wanted me to fill them. I know that he is young enough that the will have no memory of our dog and in a way that hurts even more.

My oldest took the news quite calmly. We had been talking about how sick the dog was and how it did not look like he was getting better. We told him that we took the dog to the vet and that the dog died there. We did not want to get into the issue of putting animals to sleep. He is not yet 6 and I don't think he is ready for the concept. We have been getting questions here and there about heaven. We are not religious, but I believe in heaven. I don't believe in hell but that is a discussion for another day. We talked about him playing with another of our dogs who died before he was born. The next day he told me that he had a dream and that the dog is fine now. I hope that he is right.

My DH and I have been feeling sad. My DH had to go away overnight and the dog was not there. It is funny how it is the habits that trip you up. You think, "Does the dog have enough water?" or "Walk time." and then have that moment of realization again. It was time to let go. He was falling and loosing himself. He was having moments of obvious confusion, despite the drugs. I know we have done the right thing, but I just miss him.

Walking the dog

Today when LB, the dog and I went for a walk we had an experience that was unpleasant. We had just crossed the street and we were paused for what I commonly call a "walk and poop". My dog is unable to "go" unless he continues to walk. Anyway, a car full of teenage boys drove by and yelled "Hey, your dog is taking a shit." I was actually aware of that fact, but teenage boys must like to state the obvious. I did my duty and picked up the product. The car full of boys had turned around meanwhile and they yelled something else as they drove by the other way. The only word that I caught was "f**k". Sometimes not having perfect hearing is a blessing. While I admit I have some curiousity about what was said, somehow I think that I am better of not knowing. As we continued our walk I wondered about teenage boys and what makes them think that others are interested in their input? Will my boys be those boys in the car some day?

My DH suggested that I should have got the license plate or taken a picture. They might have enjoyed explaining their behaviour to the cops and their parents.

It reminded me of another day walking down the street when I was a University student. It was a hot summer day and I was going to meet a friend. I was wearing a skirt and a top, nothing flashy really. Another car full of teenagers passed me and one of them leaned out the window and yelled "I'd like to F**k you up the a$$". I went apeshit. Without a moments hesitation or even thinking about my safety, I started yelling things like "How dare you?" and "You have no right to talk to me like that!" The car stopped at a red light about 200 yards in front of me. The boy almost fell out of the car window yelling back at me. People on the street noticed and were staring. The other guys in the car were trying their best to pull the other guy back into the car. The light turned green and took off in a hurry. I had forgotten all about it.

My dog

A while ago I wrote a blog (I hate my dog) that revealed some of the dark feeling I had about my dog. As it usually is, blogging was quite therapeutic and made me realize that I was angry with my dog for getting old and being angry made me feel guilty. This helped me a lot. My focus changed and I started to accept him for who he was and not for who I wanted him to be (immortal). He has so many great traits. But, now he is on the maximum pain meds and they and not doing what we hoped any more. To get up he now has to roll his back end to get it underneath and he doesn't always make it the first time. It is time to let go. In so many ways he is still the puppy that I found, near death from starvation, at the end of the driveway when I went to get the Sunday paper. Tonight when I came home from yoga he did his usual circle of happiness, ears open, head down, stuffed animal in his mouth. He wants to be petted, but only after he does each circuit around the house. Crazy dog!

I have made the appointment. I cried through the phone call. I asked the questions, got the answers and this weekend I am going to let him go. I am going to miss that big gentle black lab.

Now I have to figure out how to share the news with my sons. My 5 yr old knows that the dog is sick. I want to be as honest as possible. Do you tell you kids that you are putting the dog or just that he died. I am a stickler for honesty. I even struggle with Santa and the Easter bunny. I wish I knew what would be the best way to go.

I Hate My Dog

Okay I should start out by saying that he is a great dog. He is obedient, gentle and kind. You could not ask for a better family dog. He is a 90 lb Black Lab. He was a stray and was near death when I found him. He was only 40 lbs. I have dog karma, dogs come to me.

He is old and has arthritis. I have him on medication but he is still pretty stiff. I walk him everyday, well most days. But we do long walks, 3 or 4 times a week and a few short ones too.
His faults are:

• He stops in front of me, blocking my path, especially in the kitchen. My kitchen is small, I often cannot walk around him. He is kind of deaf and I have to raise my voice for him to move. I hate raising my voice.
• He goes by the baby when he is eating, the baby touches the dog and then has dog hair on his hands. I have to clean off the dog hair. It bugs me. It is not like I don't let him eat the food that drops. I do.
• I have to clean up his poop. He likes to walk-and-poop. So he will leave a trail of poop over 10 to 30 feet. I then have to play “find the poop”. 99% of the time he stays on our property, but sometimes I have to visit the neighbors. I hate his leaving poop with the neighbors.
• I am not someone who wants a dog that does not bark. He is not a dog that barks all day. However, he will bark when dinner is done because he wants the leftovers. I have to clear the table to make him stop. This is after he has been fed. I cannot feed him all the leftovers because he is an old dog and his weight would increase his pain. I hate the noise!

Of course I will miss him terribly when he is gone. He is 11 years old. I know that big dogs, especially strays, don't live that long. I am still nice to him. We have lovies everyday.

Maybe I am just overwhelmed with my kids? Maybe I miss the dog that used to want to play? Maybe I am afraid that he is going to die soon and I am trying to protect myself?