Saying goodbye is a lot harder than you think....
We had to put Shadow down yesterday morning... well - okay- we didnt have to, but it was the right thing to do. Shadow started developing these tumors on her throat about 4-5 months ago- she'd already had a couple of fatty tumors on her sides, but nothing that made me too nervous. They were kinda gross to touch if you pet her, but she didnt seemed fazed by them, so we figured it was no big deal.
But these past couple of weeks- it seemed like one tumor after another just popped up every morning. First, there was the nasty sore on her eye, then the fact that she could barely bark. It was like listening to some little dog with laryngitis trying to speak.
Then, on Thursday night, we saw them. Two massive tumors on her belly- her skin purpled and raw. God only knows how they popped out like that so fast- but they did. She could barely walk and was definately in pain when she tried to lie down.
So we made the appointment with the vet for Saturday morning... going through all the pros/cons of what we should do. Then on Friday- she seemed fine again- even going so far as to play with the new pup - Hershey. We even took her for a short walk- something she hadnt been able to do. We were encouraged... but then Saturday morning arrived. She was on the floor- looking up with sad brown eyes... eyes that so many times had looked up to me with the compasion and understanding that only a dog can give... eyes that epitomized unconditional love. Eyes that seemed to say "please help me.." and "I'm sorry" at the same time.
We got to the vet... knowing pretty much what she would say. Yes- there were options, medications and treatments and other things that could be done.... but let's face it- Shadow was 12 ( nearly 13) and honestly- my husband is out of work. Expensive meds for a dog were totally out of the question when we're budgeting so close to the wire week after week. Our vet was awesome... made us feel a bit better for the situation... she explained everything... every option and eventually how it would all end...
But it still didnt make it any easier when that same black head dropped down onto my leg and looked up that one final time - deep brown eyes saying "its okay!" "I understand like I always do"
I've never been a person who easily confides in people, I tend to be a person that rarely cries at all- and only then- in absolute private. But Shadow was a reliable warm constant no matter what awful thing was happening, no matter how sad or depressed I might feel and when no one else was around or wanted to listen... she did.
It's been bizarely quiet in the house today... the new pup looks lost- her big sister gone... and for me... when I feel so sad... my quiet confidant, my patient listener, my one source of uncoditional love and trust... is not around.
I didnt think it would hit me so hard... but it has... and I miss her horribly.
