It’s awful. I feel for ya, StG. Does she like to ride in the car?
I ask, because faced with a similar situation a couple years ago, I called the vet. He couldn’t come to the house, but she knew him and I didn’t want a stranger to do it. So we got her in the car, which she loved. As crappy as she felt, she rallied for a ride in the car!
We drove her around for a while and she was content, I think. We drove to the vet’s office. He came out to the parking lot, opened the car door and got in the back seat with her. We all talked sweet to her and he gave her the injections. It’s still hard, but necessary.
My deepest condolences when the time comes. I lost my beagle to Congestive Heart Failure a year ago, and it still hurts. But you know in your heart when the time is right, and you can take comfort in knowing that you gave your dog the best possible life you could.
As a request from PapSett, here’s a picture of Grace at a healthier time.
I was telling my co-workers today that I was going to have to have my sick dog put down, and one interrupted me when she heard “sick dog” and said “just have the dog put to sleep. It’s sick anyway!” I told her thanks for the sensitivity.
What a dreadful thing for someone to say about such a lovely creature. Grace was so lucky to have found you when she needed it most, and you are equally blessed to have such a huge heart.
I’m so sorry, but I am sure Grace knows you have only ever done what’s best for her and would want to go knowing that you could both accept that is was simply her time.
I had a similar situation with an elderly cat, we knew he was very close to the end and spent our last day together playing with his favourite toys and tempting him with his favourite foods. In the end, he just curled up in my arms at the vet’s and he went quite peacefully, purring all the time. It’s the hardest decision but sometimes it truly is the kindest act.
She is warm. She is safe. She knows she is loved. It is the best any of us can do for our pets when it’s their time. You’ve done an excellent job, StG. She is as lucky to have you as you are to have had her.
St. Germain, you and Grace will be in my thoughts. When the time comes, I imagine there will be a cute little poodle waiting at the Rainbow Bridge to welcome her.
Makes mental note… do not read these threads at work. As I sit here with my tears slipping down my cheeks, I feel for you St.Germain. It is so heartbreaking to let them go, but as said, she’s had 4 wonderful years with someone who cared for her.
I read the thread, and it was a lot like me, two years ago. I lost my best friend, and there is nothing I can say, except: time heals all wounds. Remember your time with Grace, and reflect how lucky you were to have her.
Being there for her as she dies is as important as being there for her during her life. Imagine if those people had dropped her off in the middle of nowhere instead of near your farm. She would very likely have died alone, possibly violently. (The first time I saw an animal die, it was a dog being hit by a car.)
I’m glad you started this thread. I feel like I’ve gotten a bit of a chance to know her.
StG, what a beauty! That nice red face… and she sure looks happy in that picture. You will remember her that way if you don’t let her suffer too long.
Sometimes I think the old dogs are the best - they have all the kinks all worked out and are content to be our buddies. And please give her some love from me - I have trained several Dobies, and if my partner would accept one, they are one of my top “dream dogs”.
Hugs. That’s all. I tried to post something yesterday, but couldn’t find good enough words.
My neighbor saw the people stop and speed away, then she came into his yard, looking lost.
How can you do that to the animal that trusts you and… it just breaks my heart to imagine what the dog feels and…
Okay, for the silver lining: you are my hero for giving your heart and your home to Grace when she needed a good human in her life. May comfort find you soon, and your kindness bring you peace. Think of the good life she had once she found you! Giving her a good death is the last act of kindness and of love.
Bitz the Wondermutt was more than my pet, she was my partner. She saved my life once by protecting me and once by just being around. I was in the worst two years of my life, completely without hope and being battered on all sides. The only reason I didn’t take myself off the count was because due to circumstances having nothing to do with her, Bitz had already lost one “Dad” who loved her and whom she was devoted to. I couldn’t bring myself to be quite selfish enough to do that to her.
For 8 years she was my near-constant companion, and that dog understood me on a level far more fundamental than I think even the people closest to me ever could. She knew my every mood and would respond appropriately, enjoying my company when I was content, relentlessly insisting we play when I was depressed, etc.
For the last couple of years she’d been having recurring intestinal infections. When the last one showed up, we found out it was actually her liver. We spent the 10 longest days of my life trying to get her healthy. In those couple of days where it looked like she was going to rally I experienced optimism and relief like I’d never known. When that rally proved to be unsustainable, I’d never been more crushed.
I got the number for a housecall vet from a friend and made the call. All of Bitz’s family were with her when the shots were administered and she passed over, and the last thing she saw and heard was me telling her I loved her and that she could stand down.
I know everyone’s feelings at a time like this are somewhat different, but parts of them are also universal. You’ve done right by her, and she by you, and when it’s all said and done, that’s the thing that lasts.
Yep, I was with Grace when the vet did his thing. I couldn’t have them just take her away to spend her last moments with strangers. Even good people, like my vet (who, just before he saw Grace, had a dog he was supposed to euthanize because the owner didn’t want to pay for surgery for a prolapsed uterus. He had the guy sign the dog over to him and was going to do the surgery and rehome her himself).
I looked up my first post about finding her, about the neighbor seeing her dumped. It was 8/1/04. The first day I brought her into the family, she tried to steal my bed. It took weeks before she’d go more than a couple feet from the door. I think she was afraid it would all go away if she didn’t stay right there. Just a couple weeks after she wandered into my life, my old doberman, Simon, died in his sleep. It’s like she was sent there to make sure I had a dobie to love.
She was such a dear dog. She caught a rat in the barn once. It must’ve been blind deaf and with a broken leg for her to catch it, but she did. After that time, even though she never caught anything else, she thought she was a mighty hunter. Chasing bunnies and hunting field mice - she always thought she’d catch the next one.
I have other dogs. Dogs I love and who love me. But right now there’s a Grace-sized hole in my heart.
