In some ways going quick is good. And it’s great she could still play and wasn’t suffering. We truly do not deserve dogs, they are too great.
Doug gave no warning, wasn’t sick, was actually playful and eating a rawhide earlier in the morning. He was sleeping when whatever went wrong happened, and I think the noises were his body reacting (he was already gone), and in that regard I’m really thankful it was never some decision I ended up having to make. I’m glad he didn’t suffer.
With Sal, we knew THAT was going to be a decision we were going to have to make. We had talked about it extensively and had even started calling around to find an at-home option, if possible. We discussed signs that would help us make the decision, and even took several Quality of Life surveys to make sure we were both viewing the situation through the same lens.
But, in all, what happened was the surest of signs the time had come…the decision was made for us. Didn’t make it any easier.
All I know is in both cases, nothing about the reality was anything like how I had imagined or prepared myself.
I’ve not had much experience with a close loss or grief, so it’s a learning process for me.
We lost mac just over a year ago, same thing, had a tumor removed from his mouth but the vet said it would be back barring really aggressive surgery, the vet said to bring him back when he stops being a dog.
He was fine for 5 months but another big tumor grew in his neck and one day he didn’t want to eat, which for a lab is a big deal so that was that.
Happy memories will always stay with you.
She’d been a stray in North Carolina, and was brought up to the DC area by a rescue organization. She definitely had a good and relatively long life. Too bad she missed our first real snow in a couple of years; she loved to play in it.
My brother just had to have his white German Shepherd, Brody, put to sleep yesterday. He was only 11, but his hips were failing him, he was incontinent at times, and he’d started vomiting coffee ground emesis (which, in humans at least, is a sign of a GI bleed. I assume the same holds true for dogs). My brother would at times have to pick Brody up and carry him outside to relieve himself. He wasn’t able to get up on the bed normally, so my brother built a ramp for him to walk up, and he could barely handle that.
I know I went to pieces when my cat, Beru, died a few years ago. You have my condolences.
P-man, I’m so sorry for your loss. I’m thinking of a neighbor’s dog named Ginger, back when I was a kid. Did your Ginger like to bark at the mailman? I’s glad your dog passed peacefully at home, I hate taking pets in for that. At my vet there is a candle on the counter, with a little note that say that if the candle is lit, it means a pet is currently being helped across the bridge. I’m sure your Ginger knows how much they were loved.
Ginger mostly just barked at other dogs. She never met a person she didn’t want to be friends with. I remember one time when we walked by a group of homeless people. She stopped and let the all pet her, and gave kisses to those who wanted them. Ms. P is a massage therapist, and she would open the door for clients.