Because I made him a promise
I know that people are worried about how I'm taking Chico's passing. I haven't been around because I can't talk about it yet to anyone. But I am holding up pretty good, considering. And that's because I promised him I would be ok.
I also figured I owed his memory to write down his final days.
So last week my mom had told me that Chico had begun to get some kind of skin rash/infection and that he had stopped eating. All week he would flip flop between not eating, to eating. Everytime I had made up my mind to drive down after work to see him, my mom would say that he had a good day and so I didn't go.
Saturday I get there, and I think I might have felt that the end was coming near, because usually the first thing I did was go outside to say hi to him. But this Saturday, I loitered around in the living room, not going out. I was hoping to hear him bark for me, which would happen whenever my mom would talk to me before I went out, but nothing. Finally I go out and Chico was just lying there. He looked at me, and I could just see in his eyes that he was done. Even when he was very sick a couple of years back, whenever he saw me, his eyes would always sparkle and there would be a small wag to the tail. Saturday, nothing. His eyes seemed lifeless. So it was like, ok.
I examined him and his rash didn't seem all that bad so I thought maybe he's just tired. So I got him some water which he drank. I got him some food which he didn't want to eat, but I thought since it wasn't his feeding time it didn't much matter. I kept talking to him like always, and for the first time ever when he put his head down, he actually faced away from me.
Flash forward to that night. I tried to get him to eat. But he wouldn't. I kept up a steady flow of encouragement. At one moment he was lying with his head down, and I thought he was ignoring me or tuning me out. But then he lifted his head, took a bite out of his food, and forced it down. He put his mouth back to his food, but he just couldn't seem to take another bite. At that moment I just felt the effort he was making to eat. And I just couldn't do it anymore. I knew I had to stop. He was forcing himself beyond what he felt himself capable of just because I was asking him to. So I petted him and told him it was ok if he didn't want to eat. He just put his head back down. I petted him and told him that I would come back the following day. At which point he lifted his head, and there was a tiny sparkle that went into his eyes. Which made me cry.
Saturday night I knew what was coming. So I think I cried all night.
Sunday I went back and he was in the same shape as before. My mom had given him table leftovers, which we weren't supposed to do because of his kidneys but she figured it wouldn't matter if we were going to put him to sleep. But she said he wouldn't eat.
I went outside to say hi. And he did seem happy to see me as opposed to the prevous day where it seemed like he didn't care. I tried to get him to drink some water, but he wouldn't. It was like with the food. He would put his mouth in the water bowl, but he just couldn't drink. So I sat outside, talking to him and petting him. I told him what a great dog he was and how he had never done anything wrong. And how I wish I could've been as good as an owner as he was a dog. Then at some point, I had a feeling that told me that I needed to tell him that I would be ok without him. That I needed to make it ok for him to leave. So I did. I told him that I would be ok. That yes I would be sad he left me, but that right now we had to do what was best for HIM, not me. This was another one of those moments where he lifted his head and looked me straight in the eye. I don't know if I convinced him. I have a feeling like he called BS, lol. So Sunday we decided that we would take him to the vets on Monday.
Monday I was a wreck. All day I was thinking about him while I was at work. I was absentminded, but it was like my students felt something was up because they behaved for me. There was an incident, but luckily MG was walking by at that moment and I was able to hand things over to him to take care of. I go to the parents and it might be my imagination, but Chico seemed peaceful. He still wasn't eating, or dirnking, but I don't know. I just didn't get that in pain feeling. So I sat outside a while with him. He didn't give me any response, but we just enjoyed each other's company.
The getting him into the car was an ordeal. He couldn't move. My dad moved him onto a blanket and between the three of us we were able to carry him into the car. There wasn't enough room in the car for the three of us, so my mom stayed behind. As she said her goodbye, she started to cry and was like, How can I? The drive up was bittersweet. Like always he seemed happy to be in the car. My dad had to stop to get gas, and when he left the car Chico was all like, Where is he going? (He never liked it when one person left the pack. He was very good about keeping us together) The way Chico was in the car he was able to lay his head inbetween my dad and I. And we would both get little licks on our arms on the drive up.
At the vets office, I started to cry when I signed us in, but then got a hold of myself when they showed us into the room. And OMG, it took them SO long to get things going. The entire time I was able to stay strong. I had decided to be present for the whole thing because there was no way I was going to leave him alone and scared. Not once did he ever leave me, and I refused to leave him in those moments. So again I talked. I told him how he was the best dog ever, how I could not have had a better dog. I praised him for being so brave. And I told him that I loved him. My dad was stoic through the beginning, but then he broke down and started to cry and told him also that he loved him and that he was the best dog. The entire time Chico was lying on the table with his head down. Every once in a while he would shift and put his head in the crook of my arm, like he did when he cuddled, but otherwise he was just waiting.
I knew from reading Meg's post about her dog that it would be quick, and it sure was. The vet dimmed the lights and within a minute it seemed it was over. And that's when I finally let myself cry. The hardest part of the whole thing was when it was time to leave him. I had managed to get control of myself by then, but then I lost it when I was about to leave him. I just couldn't leave him. My dad had to actually put himself between Chico and me, and gently lead me out. I couldn't do it on my own.
I quickly left my parent's house because I needed to get to my apartment before I really lost it. I managed to drive most of the way without crying more than just a tear or two. Until I got to the top of the freeway a couple of blocks away from my place. All day the sky had been cloudy with dark heavy clouds. But at that moment, I had a clear view of the sky, mountains, and horizon. The clouds were there, but there was a gap between them and the horizon and mountains where the sky was visible. And it was like, See, he's fine now. The sky behind the clouds was the same golden shade as his fur. I felt as if Chico had been set free and was now all around me and was back to his happy self. So of course I start to cry. Luckily the traffic light was on red.
And since then I've been flip flopping between feeling a type of desolation at the fact that he is no longer with me, to a relief that he is at peace now. And I know he's at peace because every memory that floods my mind is of him being happy. Of us dancing in the living room to music. To him going absolutely crazy in the backyard and just running in circles. Of him in my lap, relaxing outside just listening to the wind in the trees and watching the sun go down.
I continue to work. It was the only thing that got me through the day yesterday. I am still crying, but I think that's normal. But I'm still eating. I'm still sleeping. I'm taking care of myself. All because I promised him I would be ok. I will not break my last promise to him. I can't.
I also figured I owed his memory to write down his final days.
So last week my mom had told me that Chico had begun to get some kind of skin rash/infection and that he had stopped eating. All week he would flip flop between not eating, to eating. Everytime I had made up my mind to drive down after work to see him, my mom would say that he had a good day and so I didn't go.
Saturday I get there, and I think I might have felt that the end was coming near, because usually the first thing I did was go outside to say hi to him. But this Saturday, I loitered around in the living room, not going out. I was hoping to hear him bark for me, which would happen whenever my mom would talk to me before I went out, but nothing. Finally I go out and Chico was just lying there. He looked at me, and I could just see in his eyes that he was done. Even when he was very sick a couple of years back, whenever he saw me, his eyes would always sparkle and there would be a small wag to the tail. Saturday, nothing. His eyes seemed lifeless. So it was like, ok.
I examined him and his rash didn't seem all that bad so I thought maybe he's just tired. So I got him some water which he drank. I got him some food which he didn't want to eat, but I thought since it wasn't his feeding time it didn't much matter. I kept talking to him like always, and for the first time ever when he put his head down, he actually faced away from me.
Flash forward to that night. I tried to get him to eat. But he wouldn't. I kept up a steady flow of encouragement. At one moment he was lying with his head down, and I thought he was ignoring me or tuning me out. But then he lifted his head, took a bite out of his food, and forced it down. He put his mouth back to his food, but he just couldn't seem to take another bite. At that moment I just felt the effort he was making to eat. And I just couldn't do it anymore. I knew I had to stop. He was forcing himself beyond what he felt himself capable of just because I was asking him to. So I petted him and told him it was ok if he didn't want to eat. He just put his head back down. I petted him and told him that I would come back the following day. At which point he lifted his head, and there was a tiny sparkle that went into his eyes. Which made me cry.
Saturday night I knew what was coming. So I think I cried all night.
Sunday I went back and he was in the same shape as before. My mom had given him table leftovers, which we weren't supposed to do because of his kidneys but she figured it wouldn't matter if we were going to put him to sleep. But she said he wouldn't eat.
I went outside to say hi. And he did seem happy to see me as opposed to the prevous day where it seemed like he didn't care. I tried to get him to drink some water, but he wouldn't. It was like with the food. He would put his mouth in the water bowl, but he just couldn't drink. So I sat outside, talking to him and petting him. I told him what a great dog he was and how he had never done anything wrong. And how I wish I could've been as good as an owner as he was a dog. Then at some point, I had a feeling that told me that I needed to tell him that I would be ok without him. That I needed to make it ok for him to leave. So I did. I told him that I would be ok. That yes I would be sad he left me, but that right now we had to do what was best for HIM, not me. This was another one of those moments where he lifted his head and looked me straight in the eye. I don't know if I convinced him. I have a feeling like he called BS, lol. So Sunday we decided that we would take him to the vets on Monday.
Monday I was a wreck. All day I was thinking about him while I was at work. I was absentminded, but it was like my students felt something was up because they behaved for me. There was an incident, but luckily MG was walking by at that moment and I was able to hand things over to him to take care of. I go to the parents and it might be my imagination, but Chico seemed peaceful. He still wasn't eating, or dirnking, but I don't know. I just didn't get that in pain feeling. So I sat outside a while with him. He didn't give me any response, but we just enjoyed each other's company.
The getting him into the car was an ordeal. He couldn't move. My dad moved him onto a blanket and between the three of us we were able to carry him into the car. There wasn't enough room in the car for the three of us, so my mom stayed behind. As she said her goodbye, she started to cry and was like, How can I? The drive up was bittersweet. Like always he seemed happy to be in the car. My dad had to stop to get gas, and when he left the car Chico was all like, Where is he going? (He never liked it when one person left the pack. He was very good about keeping us together) The way Chico was in the car he was able to lay his head inbetween my dad and I. And we would both get little licks on our arms on the drive up.
At the vets office, I started to cry when I signed us in, but then got a hold of myself when they showed us into the room. And OMG, it took them SO long to get things going. The entire time I was able to stay strong. I had decided to be present for the whole thing because there was no way I was going to leave him alone and scared. Not once did he ever leave me, and I refused to leave him in those moments. So again I talked. I told him how he was the best dog ever, how I could not have had a better dog. I praised him for being so brave. And I told him that I loved him. My dad was stoic through the beginning, but then he broke down and started to cry and told him also that he loved him and that he was the best dog. The entire time Chico was lying on the table with his head down. Every once in a while he would shift and put his head in the crook of my arm, like he did when he cuddled, but otherwise he was just waiting.
I knew from reading Meg's post about her dog that it would be quick, and it sure was. The vet dimmed the lights and within a minute it seemed it was over. And that's when I finally let myself cry. The hardest part of the whole thing was when it was time to leave him. I had managed to get control of myself by then, but then I lost it when I was about to leave him. I just couldn't leave him. My dad had to actually put himself between Chico and me, and gently lead me out. I couldn't do it on my own.
I quickly left my parent's house because I needed to get to my apartment before I really lost it. I managed to drive most of the way without crying more than just a tear or two. Until I got to the top of the freeway a couple of blocks away from my place. All day the sky had been cloudy with dark heavy clouds. But at that moment, I had a clear view of the sky, mountains, and horizon. The clouds were there, but there was a gap between them and the horizon and mountains where the sky was visible. And it was like, See, he's fine now. The sky behind the clouds was the same golden shade as his fur. I felt as if Chico had been set free and was now all around me and was back to his happy self. So of course I start to cry. Luckily the traffic light was on red.
And since then I've been flip flopping between feeling a type of desolation at the fact that he is no longer with me, to a relief that he is at peace now. And I know he's at peace because every memory that floods my mind is of him being happy. Of us dancing in the living room to music. To him going absolutely crazy in the backyard and just running in circles. Of him in my lap, relaxing outside just listening to the wind in the trees and watching the sun go down.
I continue to work. It was the only thing that got me through the day yesterday. I am still crying, but I think that's normal. But I'm still eating. I'm still sleeping. I'm taking care of myself. All because I promised him I would be ok. I will not break my last promise to him. I can't.