Saturday morning, the dogs were crrraaazzzyyy. Bouncing, begging. So we walked them. Happiness all around.
All day, Missy started acting slower and slower in her movements. Lately, she does this. Whatever is wrong with her takes her down and she loses strength.
Matt let them out (still pretty energetic) at 8pm or so. When they came back in, Missy went to the water bowl and collapsed. I gave her a painkiller, but an hour later, she was still laying there, not drinking/eating/moving. We decided if she wasn't better Monday, we'd have her put down.
A couple hours later, it was time for bed and she was still in bad shape. Matt carried her to my side of the bed where I'd laid out her blanket. All night, we woke up over and over to make sure she was breathing. She seemed uncomfortable and kept pushing herself farther under our bed (which is odd).
Yesterday morning, she was still breathing really hard. We moved her to the bathroom (her favorite place). We tried to get another pain pill down her, which wasn't super successful. We talked about how long to let her suffer and decided we should probably take her in that afternoon. Matt started to get ready for church and I was sitting with her on the bathroom floor.
Her limbs were oddly stiff and her eyes were huge. It was awful to see. She was definitely in pain or uncomfortable or something. I petted her and sang to her, wondering how long we'd have her.
She moved her legs, made them even more stiff, and then moved her head toward me. I thought she wanted to be petted, so I touched her head. She took a deep breath, let it out, and that was it.
I ran to the other bathroom and told Matt. He came quickly and checked. I thought I had misread it because she was still twitching and her head was moving up and down. But I guess that's part of it.
We took her to the vet, cried and cried and cried, petted her sweet head, and left.
It's so weird without her here. Her happy, bouncy self, her smile, her soft ears. I don't know what to do. Grief is weird. Nothing matters, nothing makes sense.
I know. It's a dog. But I knew her longer than any of my friends, and knew her better than just about anyone. She was there every day, at my desk, she followed me around the house. Her clicking paws on the floor were normal house noises that are silent today. She's been in the family for almost 13 years. There's a big hole without her.
Such a good dog, such a faithful and affectionate companion, the source of endless joy. I miss her with all my heart.
3 comments:
Reading here how it went at the end...I think you did a superb job. I would bet that despite the pain, she felt some measure of safety because you were right there with her. Well done, dog-mom.
Thanks, Kerri. xo
You made me cry. Yes, you did do a good job and were with her to the bitter end. Maybe she did want you to pet her and just be with her. :|
Very sad.
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