(no subject)
Dan's dog, Princess, got put to sleep today.
We bonded from the very start. I can't have pets here, so she was as much my own dog as his. Dan has always said that she would lie around all day until I came over, and then she would come to life.
When it got warm this year in April, I bought her a new collar and took her for walks every day. She would practically bounce up and down for joy because Dan never walked her as much/often as I did. And after her walk, she would get a treat and some water and get told she was a good dog and I loved her. I would kiss the top of her head and she would lick my face.
Dan got her leash and I grabbed a doggie treat for her before we took off.
We took her to the vet's office. It was kind of a long drive and Dan doesn't have air conditioning, so she was panting when we got there.
I noticed a Culligan's water jug, and got a cup. I took a few sips, then offered it to Princess. She gulped it down thirstily. I was determined that she would not die hungry or thirsty or wanting for anything.
I've never seen death before.
I've woken up to find childhood pets had died...a rabbit, and some goldfish.
My grandpas both died, but it felt more like they disappeared. I saw them each a last time, and then I didn't see them anymore. But I've never watched it happen.
First they gave her a subcutaneous (under the skin) injection and had us hold her head still. It was a sedative to calm her down. I was upset because the vet hadn't even finished explaining that when he gave her the shot, and she was looking out of it practically before I could comprehend that it was really happening.
I gently rolled her onto her side after that shot, because she had yelped in pain. I stroked her head and her back and whispered "it's gonna be okay. I love you."
I gave Dan a moment with her, and he petted her and told her she was a good dog.
Soon her eyes looked glazed over and her breathing was steady and coming easier than it had in months. She looked like she does when she's asleep, only with her eyes open. They gave us a few minutes to say goodbye, then the vet came back in with a much bigger syringe; this one would euthanize her. They shaved one leg, and the vet told us:
"Your dog doesn't know that you're here right now. You can leave if you want."
I instantly thought of this postsecret:
and defensively threw myself almost on top of her, so that my arms completely encircled her. I didn't believe him for a second. How would he know? How could anyone know? I couldn't take the chance of letting her die feeling abandoned and betrayed. "No. I'm not leaving her."
I hovered over her, petting her as he injected the pink fluid into her vein. Before he even finished injecting it, I realized she wasn't breathing.
Her little body was so warm, but not moving at all. I wondered where she went. Where do dogs go? I thought of the title of a little kids' movie "All Dogs Go to Heaven"--but do they? I never gave it serious consideration. I hope so. She deserved it.
As soon as that thought passed, I noticed her body was already growing cool. Breath, warmth, life...already gone. I thought that it must happen this way with people too. Their breath disappears and they're gone so quickly, and there's nothing you can do about it. You don't get one last minute; they're just gone. I imagined against my will what it would be like to hold the hand of a person I love as they die.
I could not stop crying. I felt stupid; she was just a dog. And yet...not JUST a dog. My little girl, who barked when I came to the door and bounced around when I came in and fell on top of my feet in complete adoration, wanting me to pet her. No matter what I looked like or what kind of mood I was in, the dog loved me. It's hard not to respond to that.
Emily told me it's okay to grieve this, so I feel a little better about having such a hard time with this right now. I'm going to miss my little girl.
We bonded from the very start. I can't have pets here, so she was as much my own dog as his. Dan has always said that she would lie around all day until I came over, and then she would come to life.
When it got warm this year in April, I bought her a new collar and took her for walks every day. She would practically bounce up and down for joy because Dan never walked her as much/often as I did. And after her walk, she would get a treat and some water and get told she was a good dog and I loved her. I would kiss the top of her head and she would lick my face.
Dan got her leash and I grabbed a doggie treat for her before we took off.
We took her to the vet's office. It was kind of a long drive and Dan doesn't have air conditioning, so she was panting when we got there.
I noticed a Culligan's water jug, and got a cup. I took a few sips, then offered it to Princess. She gulped it down thirstily. I was determined that she would not die hungry or thirsty or wanting for anything.
I've never seen death before.
I've woken up to find childhood pets had died...a rabbit, and some goldfish.
My grandpas both died, but it felt more like they disappeared. I saw them each a last time, and then I didn't see them anymore. But I've never watched it happen.
First they gave her a subcutaneous (under the skin) injection and had us hold her head still. It was a sedative to calm her down. I was upset because the vet hadn't even finished explaining that when he gave her the shot, and she was looking out of it practically before I could comprehend that it was really happening.
I gently rolled her onto her side after that shot, because she had yelped in pain. I stroked her head and her back and whispered "it's gonna be okay. I love you."
I gave Dan a moment with her, and he petted her and told her she was a good dog.
Soon her eyes looked glazed over and her breathing was steady and coming easier than it had in months. She looked like she does when she's asleep, only with her eyes open. They gave us a few minutes to say goodbye, then the vet came back in with a much bigger syringe; this one would euthanize her. They shaved one leg, and the vet told us:
"Your dog doesn't know that you're here right now. You can leave if you want."
I instantly thought of this postsecret:
and defensively threw myself almost on top of her, so that my arms completely encircled her. I didn't believe him for a second. How would he know? How could anyone know? I couldn't take the chance of letting her die feeling abandoned and betrayed. "No. I'm not leaving her."
I hovered over her, petting her as he injected the pink fluid into her vein. Before he even finished injecting it, I realized she wasn't breathing.
Her little body was so warm, but not moving at all. I wondered where she went. Where do dogs go? I thought of the title of a little kids' movie "All Dogs Go to Heaven"--but do they? I never gave it serious consideration. I hope so. She deserved it.
As soon as that thought passed, I noticed her body was already growing cool. Breath, warmth, life...already gone. I thought that it must happen this way with people too. Their breath disappears and they're gone so quickly, and there's nothing you can do about it. You don't get one last minute; they're just gone. I imagined against my will what it would be like to hold the hand of a person I love as they die.
I could not stop crying. I felt stupid; she was just a dog. And yet...not JUST a dog. My little girl, who barked when I came to the door and bounced around when I came in and fell on top of my feet in complete adoration, wanting me to pet her. No matter what I looked like or what kind of mood I was in, the dog loved me. It's hard not to respond to that.
Emily told me it's okay to grieve this, so I feel a little better about having such a hard time with this right now. I'm going to miss my little girl.