Sorrow Enough In the Natural Way

This is Ba. I didn't feel my usual nick or style was appropiate for this post, so I decided to make a new one. So, anyway, here's what happened to me today.

The call came early this morning. I was asleep on my grandmother's couch, and was woken up when my grandmother called for me to answer the phone.

"John?" the vet said, "Annie's doing much worse this morning. I think it's time."

"I'll be there in half an hour," I said.

Annie was our yellow lab, a short barrel of a dog. She was a happy, easy-going girl, always looking for someone to scratch her ears. We got her about five and-a-half years ago, and she'd been part of our household ever since. She was the daintiest dog I knew. She kept herself as clean as possible, and would lick her paws to wash her face, like a cat.

We're in the middle of moving. We're between houses for a couple of weeks, so we decided to board two of our dogs with my grandparents until we got the new house squared away. I was worried about my oldest dog, Buddy, whose hips have been bad for a long while. But it was Annie who ended up having problems.

First, she started having trouble walking. She couldn't get her back legs moving properly. She stopped eating, and then she stopped drinking. She soon needed help to stand, and soon she wasn't able to walk at all. She just lay down, and only shifted position when she could.

We took her to the vet yesterday. The question of euthanasia came up. I wavered. I wanted to know what was wrong with her first, before I made any decisions. If it could be treated, and she could still have a good quality of life, I wanted to give her that chance. We asked for some tests to be run first. The vet agreed. She ran the x-rays then and told us the blood work would be done in the morning.

And then, this morning, the vet called us back. She'd gotten worse during the night. The blood work hadn't come back yet, but she was suffering badly. It was time.

I got dressed quickly, grabbed my vest, and drove over to the animal hospital. I walked in, and they took me to the back, where Annie was. She was laying on her side, and couldn't even look up at me. Only her eyes showed that she knew I was there.

They gave me a few minutes, and I sat beside her, telling her that we loved her, and it was going to stop hurting soon. Her tail moved an inch. I think she was trying to wag it, but I'm not sure.

I kept a hand on her, slowly scratching her, as the vet inserted the syringe and depressed the plunger. Her breathing became shorter and shorter, and then it stopped altogether. It was over.

It hurts. She was a good dog, and she's gone now. It hurt seeing her in so much pain, not being able to do a damned thing about it, and it hurt watching her die. I feel helpless. I couldn't help her, except to kill her. It had to be done. I know that. Everything dies. But just because I recognize the inevitability doesn't mean I have to like the basic indignity of death. It had to happen, but that doesn't make it hurt any less.

But I did my duty. We have a duty to our animals, who depend on us. Annie gave us love and companionship for more than five years. I owed a duty to her, to help end her pain when I could, and to stay with her in the end. She was a good dog, and it was time for me to be a good friend.

I did my duty. It's not much, but at least it's something.

Brothers and sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

I'm so sorry for your loss. When my folks had to do that for Boxer the vets office sent a sympathy card, I read it while I was reading the Christmas cards that year, it happened close to the holidays, and it was so sad. She wasn't even my puppy but she was so loving to the whole family. Dogs are so full of love and your Annie sounds like one of the best of them. She'll always be your good dog.

Annie was lucky to be loved and cared for by you. I'm sorry for your loss.

My deepest sympathy for your loss.
In time, the happy memories overcome the sad.

Sorry to hear it, John, I have had to go with a pet to have them put down before, and it hurts badly. But yes, you did your duty and gave her the love she deserved until the end. They're not just "pets", they're part of the family. You have all our sympathy, and may Annie go on to chase the endless postmen in the sky.

I am sorry to hear about your loss John. I know it was not easy but you did the right thing.

It's a heart breaking desicion to have to make. But she was in pain, and you did the best, the only thing you could have done for her. Remember the good times, and how your life has been better for having her in it. I'm sorry.

Honey, we lost both of our beloved girls within a year of each other to Cancer. Snowey was 11 and had had some life, still before her time although i doubt there is ever a time you want to let them go. Sooty however was 4. She was my little girl and to see her with lumps all over her was heart breaking. We were offered all sorts of treatments for her but they would just have made her life longer by 6 months at the most and the options were ongoing so the choice of making her go through various injections and tablets so she could slowley pass away in what i'm sure was agony or we could choose to do the right thing by her and let her go quietly now. That was the easiest decision we as a family ever had to make.
My step dad was diagnosed with the same thing not 6 weeks later and he decided the opposite for him. He was kinder to the dog than himself in the end.

You will feel helpless and angry and fed up and sad, the only way i got through them both was to know that both the girls had the best life with us, they wern't stuck out in the brittish cold, they were fed what they liked and not the cheapest stuff and most of all they were loved more than anything.
Someone else may not have been so nice to them.

Its hell to go through when they die. Don't give up though, no one will replace Annie but you have so much to offer in time to another dog that may not get all that love from someone else.

I'm sorry.

You are in my thoughts.

I really don't know what to say - You have done the right thing.

We give them our hearts. They unconditionally give us their love and trust.
There is a responsibility on our part to do what is right though.
May she live on in your heart

I feel with you Ba. Though death is life's only promise once it happens to one of your loved ones it is a sorrow that cannot be put to words. At least not by me. So I'll just stick with saying that I've been there myself and didn't like it.

I like to believe that there is life after death in the form of the memories living on in those who survive you. So, here's a drink to all those that left before us! Skål.

I'm very sorry abut Annie, John. I know what it's like to lose a dog, although I have never had to make the decision to to end its pain. It is a very courageous and generous thing.

Thank you for sharing this with us. Everything else has already been said. I'm around.

Sorry to hear about your Annie.

My only pet, besides 2 gerbils, has been my cat, but he has lived longer with my sister now than he has ever lived with me. He´s pretty healthy for a 14 year old...

Dogs are family members more than cats are, usually, so I can only imagine the pain.

*big hug*

I cannot express in words or in Smileys how sorry I am. I cried when I read this post. :cry:

You did what you had to do, man. And while you did the right thing you also felt the right thing.

The hopelessness... We owned many cats over the years, and in most cases they didn't die at home. Cats tend to die outdoors, and I'm not sure if it's an instinct of some kind or merely age creeping up, so that they don't cross the street as fast as they used to, don't manage run away from the angrier dogs...

But one time one of our she-cats, a murderous feline who liked chasing the smaller neighborhood dogs around and whose mere presence at home, kind as she was to us, kept the street cats at a respectful distance from our yard, one time that cat became ill. We didn't know just how ill she was at first, taking it as something minor.

Then it became worse, and we took her to a vet. There we found out that it was hopeless from the day she became ill, that she somehow managed to catch a feline disease so rare that few even tried developing treatment for it...

Then we had only two choices. The bad one, and the worse one. We picked the bad one, because paying the vet for a quick, clean and painless death was better than waiting for her to die, and watching her die, in so much pain...
That was our final thank-you to her, for all the joy she gave us. We owed it to her.

Thanks everyone.