Today my family put our dog to sleep. Her name was Isabelle (aka Belle, Puppy and Poopie). She was an English Springer Spaniel and about to turn 16 in August. She had been in a downward spiral for awhile. Deaf for a couple of years, bad arthritis in the back legs, starting growing tumors, going blind and lost control of her bowels. We knew it had to happen. Not too long ago she had a day she could barely move and whined constantly even when someone when sitting with her. It was the right thing to do but it didn’t make it any easier.
I remember her when she was younger. Full of energy and mischief. We were living in the city but thankfully we also had a house upstate so she could run around to her hearts content. She chased frogs in ponds for hours until we had to drag her away. She slept in my bed while I was still small enough to not kick her off while I was sleeping. I ran with her in the park in the city so she got enough exercise. She was always there to protect us, walk with us, always rushing ahead and then coming back to make sure that we were on the way.
Sometimes she made us mad. She managed to get sprayed by a skunk on 3 occasions and despite our best efforts smelled so much every time she got wet for months afterwards. We would go on walks in the woods, she would run off, find a staggering amount of shit, roll around in it and make us clean her afterwards. She ate a cornucopia made of chocolate. We were afraid she would die, but she kept on ticking like nothing happened. She did not like new people. She was very protective of us and made sure that anyone new was thoroughly frightened and checked by us.
I’ve had her in my life more than I haven’t. That’s what I’m trying to come to terms with now. Not having her. Her last day was spent going on walks in the country, chasing her frogs, eating pig ears and getting bones from heaven (she was never fed from the table, our scraps magically appeared on the lawn). This morning I went to go for a walk. I called for her and told her to come, but she just couldn’t. She still had the spirit in her eyes, but her body wouldn’t let her.
The vet was very nice. A country boy who became a vet in the same hospital where he had to put one of his own dogs to sleep (or at least that’s what he said). I sat in the car with her while my mom went to take care of everything. The hardest part was when she came back and said that they were ready for her. I broke down. I couldn’t think of my girl, who had her head on my lap during the drive to the vet, not being there anymore. When she was gone I wanted to shake her and tell her to wake up, but I controlled myself. It was the best thing to do. That’s what the vet said. That’s what we kept telling ourselves. And that was the truth, but it didn’t make it any easier.
I had said that I didn’t want to be there when she went, but I was glad that I was. She left the world with two people that loved her so much petting her. It was painless and over so quickly. I didn’t feel awkward bawling in front of complete strangers.
The one thing that affected me more than anything was carrying her back to the car after she was gone. I never realized how much life had had an effect on her body. Her muscles were no longer taut and ready. She no longer felt like she was going to jump out of my arms. She was just there.
We buried her upstate, where she loved to be. It had to be that way. My hands are still sore from digging her grave, but I honestly wish my hands were raw and bleeding so they could feel like the rest of myself tonight. We buried her with her blankets and her favorite toys. I know that she never understood death, but I hope that she knows how much we loved her.
I’m fine when I’m places where I didn’t associate her. In my room at home. Well, that’s the only place right now and that’s where I’m staying for the time. I’ve never had to lose anyone close to me. She was the first one. And it just makes it harder, even though I have come to terms with my mortality as well as the mortality of others. Still doesn’t make it easier. I’ll still remember her as the dog we could barely drag away from the pond.
If you have a dog, pet him/her a little longer for me tonight. They deserve it so very much.
