I’m a fairly solitary man by nature, but everybody needs someone. My someone is the dog with the beautiful blue eyes over by the left margin <<<< whose identity I’ve been stealing for a few years here and on other boards..
A couple of months ago I took him to the vet to find out what was making him yelp when he jumped up suddenly, and when the answer turned out to a tumor, my heart began breaking, in ever-so-slow motion. The biopsy results 'carcinoma".
Well, today was the day it all ended. I took him to the vet’s, and stroked his head while the needle went in and his life ebbed away. What made his last day the last was the fact that he’d obviously started being in a lot of pain that the drugs couldn’t abate, so I probably made the right decision. I feel like sh!t anyway. He turned 8 a month ago. He was a REALLY great dog. The kind of dog even dog haters liked.
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The very first moment you pick up and hold a new puppy, you know that one day he’s going to die and break your heart. That’s just how it is with dogs. We do it anyway. Every so often over the past few years, I’ve had that thought pop into my head, often while I watched him run at the off-leash park. I’d reassure myself with the thought that the day was long off; dogs of his kind are likely make 12 or 15 years.
Both of us lost the bet.
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I used to watch him run; he had joyful, exhuberant gait he’d break into out of the sheer pleasure of running unleashed through soft grass; a rocking gallop that looked for all the world like a child’s rocking horse had broken it’s moorings and burst free.
Every time I saw it, I’d find myself smiling without realizing it. My spirits would lift just watching him and seeing the pleasure he felt. A month or so ago I watched him at the park, trotting instead of galloping, and I thought “I’m never going to see that gallop again”. I nearly broke into tears in the middle of the park.
Sorry for your loss. I hope you will be able to find space to take a breather and then pick yourself back up; maybe even invite another wonderful dog into your life again.
I’m so sorry to hear about the death of your friend. I can’t imagine the sadness you must be feeling right now.
I sometimes reflect on things friends have said to me when they discovered they were living with an illness or condition that could cost them their life.
One thing that I’ve heard many times is, death is not frightening. Its the process of dying that is frightening.
Please take some comfort that you did the right thing by hastening the end of his recently very painful life. You acted as a true friend and loved one might be depended upon to act.
Bless his canid soul and your heart. May he be frolicking joyfully and remembering how much you loved him as he dances across the rainbow bridge. May your heart heal swiftly by remembering with joy the times you shared, and may he guide you a new love in the not too distant future.
I don’t really believe in the whole afterlife thing, but I have never wanted to believe it more than I did today. I wanted to bend down and whisper in his ear that he should meet me later at the gate. Or the bridge, or whatever.
I know it doesn’t help, but you can feel good about what you did. He was in pain, and you weren’t; you arranged it so that now he’s not in pain and you are.
Simon, I’ve very sorry about the loss of your pup. I’d really found myself thinking of him as part of the C&F community, after seeing him as your avatar on all those interesting posts.
Simon, my heart-felt sympathies go out to you. Perhaps you might find a bit of solace in knowing that Bridget, Baby, Cotton, Buffy, Albert, Boo, Peeka, Fred, Jack, and Maggie (who were each and everyone beloved companions of my household at one time or another) were waiting for your pup at The Rainbow Bridge to welcome and to gallop with him. blessings.
Near this Spot
are deposited the Remains of one
who possessed Beauty without Vanity,
Strength without Insolence,
Courage without Ferocity,
and all the Virtues of Man without his Vices.
This praise, which would be unmeaning Flattery
if inscribed over human Ashes,
is but a just tribute to the Memory of
Boatswain, a dog,
who was born in Newfoundland May 1803,
and died at Newstead Nov.r 18th, 1808.
–Gorge Gordon, Lord Byron
We hurt for you, Simon. There’s nothing quite like a good dog.
I think sometimes that, even if it turns out that it only exists in our own imaginations, that’s enough. The connection is there. … but I’ve had enough really ‘out there’ experiences to feel that there is definitely something after this… dunno what, but it definitely involves joy. My brother proved that, for one, and not just to me.
