Farewell, Nicky
Yesterday we took Nicky on her final journey to the vet. He'd said we should check her gums to see if she had internal bleeding, and the gums were bone white. She could no longer get up the little step into the kitchen, and was pretty much sleeping all day. We don't really know when we lost the real Nicky personality; she'd felt old and tired for ages, but she'd still been managing. Not any more. Dr Ernie was very kind, and we were with Nicky, touching her and holding her till the end, and we left her in her little ladybird jacket, under an old purple blanket. We were both in tears. Poor little girl.
Nicky came into Kat's life about 11 years ago, after her black spaniel Arthur died; she was two and a bit then, so she was about 13. Kat adopted Jody and Nicky - sisters apparently - and Nicky was so very timid. I met Kat some time after that, and grew to love them. Nicky suffered from itchiness, and was always on Medrol medication to help, and both were eventually on prozac because they got jealous of each other. Nicky would had been well suited as a single dog for an older person; she loved her cuddles and wanted people all to herself. She could be a jealous grump, but mostly she was a happy girl often smiling, wagging her tail, and in younger years, walking while looking behind to check you were following her. She'd flop herself on her back for belly rubs. We're going to miss her.
The other dogs seem a bit subdued, but the are very pleased they're now allowed toys to chew. With Nicky around, Jody would try to take Nicky's toys, and growling and fights would ensue. Our friends have all been very sympathetic. It's the first time for me taking one of my own pets on that journey, and I found it much harder than I thought it would be. It's weird, but sometimes I feel I hurt more for the pets I've lost than the people I've lost; maybe that's because I haven't lost anyone really close yet, or maybe it's because pets are so dependent on us.
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Nicky came into Kat's life about 11 years ago, after her black spaniel Arthur died; she was two and a bit then, so she was about 13. Kat adopted Jody and Nicky - sisters apparently - and Nicky was so very timid. I met Kat some time after that, and grew to love them. Nicky suffered from itchiness, and was always on Medrol medication to help, and both were eventually on prozac because they got jealous of each other. Nicky would had been well suited as a single dog for an older person; she loved her cuddles and wanted people all to herself. She could be a jealous grump, but mostly she was a happy girl often smiling, wagging her tail, and in younger years, walking while looking behind to check you were following her. She'd flop herself on her back for belly rubs. We're going to miss her.
The other dogs seem a bit subdued, but the are very pleased they're now allowed toys to chew. With Nicky around, Jody would try to take Nicky's toys, and growling and fights would ensue. Our friends have all been very sympathetic. It's the first time for me taking one of my own pets on that journey, and I found it much harder than I thought it would be. It's weird, but sometimes I feel I hurt more for the pets I've lost than the people I've lost; maybe that's because I haven't lost anyone really close yet, or maybe it's because pets are so dependent on us.
This entry was originally posted at https://claidheamhmor.dreamwidth.org/1067620.html. Please comment there using OpenID, or here.