Sometimes I don’t want to be in charge
Found out today that the reason why the elder dog is having all those breathing problems is he has this baseball-sized tumor pressing against his trachea. Yeah, not so much fun. Sorry.
So now because I’m the human and he’s the dog, I get to decide when is the exact right time for him to stop snuggling with me at night. When is that day when the pain he’s experiencing outweighs the fun in his life? Just two nights ago he stood on one of the kitchen chairs and stole my husband’s dinner right off the plate. Sounds like a good life to me. But then this morning he could barely walk two steps without gasping so hard I thought he was going to die right then.
They say it’s terminal and Blue’s breathing will only get more labored. But he’s sloshing water all over the floor right now as he gets a big sloppy drink, and I read the paper a little while ago with his head on my lap, and it’s hard to be the one to say, “Nope, that’s enough now. This life of yours is over. I’m in charge.”
Sorry for the sad little post. I have the feeling some of you can relate.
I am so terribly sorry, Robin.
I had to put my dog down three years ago and I’m still traumatized. I still grieve. And I will be facing this decision again in the not so distant future.
Not a good time for you to have given up the chocolate, eh?
Robin, I’m so sorry
So, I decided to sit among the unwashed masses today. I ate at the bar, which is unusual for me. I usually get a table or return to my room with food.
After a bit, a woman who was rather butch in appearance(bartender called her ‘sir’ from behind) sat a few seats over. She told the bartender she was in town for a Border’s manager’s meeting.
So, now I’m curious, but I hate meeting people. To put that to a fact, the other day on the plane, the guy sitting across the aisle from me for three hours, flipped open his laptop, opened a word doc that quite clearly said ‘Chapter 1′ and I said nothing to him.
Anyway, I think I made progress today. It took me fifteen minutes to decide to do it, but I said hi and I broke the ice. I said “Whacha wha, uh, the nuts, do you, uhhhhhh — Barry Lyga has a book coming out. Huh?”
She responded, “Don’t kill me you psychotic worm,” and pointed her fruit spear stick thingy from her drink at me
as a means of defense or something like that.
I am sad to report that she was the inventory manager and she didn’t have Barry’s name memorized. Unfortunately, she was too nice to let this one failing make her a bad person.
You might notice that I try to help people cope with things through misdirection and taking their mind off the horrible situation.
I truly sympathize. I still miss my buddy Fletcher. He was a brother, not a pet. He certainly considered himself that way. What’s worse was I didn’t realize how ill he had become in his later years and couldn’t believe how callous my parents were to be “in charge” like that. My last time seeing him, I certainly understood then. He desperately wanted to get out of his beanbag chair to see me, but his body just wasn’t capable. It was quite an ordeal for my parents and I.
Thanks, guys. You’re very kind.
it’s hard to let a dear old friend go–that blue he had a good run. you’ll know when the time is right, it just will be, right, for blue too.
Sorry to hear about poor Blue-my mom had to put our cat,Jake,to sleep a few years ago and it really hit us all hard. Mom rescued him from the parking lot at her job when he was a kitten(and named him after one of her bosses,who hates cats).
My dad did a great painting of Jake,which we still display. We now have Magic,who is my sister’s pride and joy(even when he acts up). You’ll never be able to replace Blue in your heart but when the time is right,you will be able to let him go.
Thanks, Annette and Lady T. “The time is right” turns out to be tomorrow morning. But we’ll enjoy today.
Oh, Robin, I am so sorry. I had to make this decision less than a year ago for a much loved dog and have had to do it several times for other dogs I’ve had. Even when you know it is the right thing to do for your Blue, it still somehow seems so wrong. And damn, it hurts. Enjoy your day with him, lots of snuggles and kisses. He knows you will do the right thing for him tomorrow-he’s counting on you. I have a magnet on the fridge that says, “May I always be the person my dog thinks I am.” Take care of yourself.
Oh Robin, I’ll be thinking of you and Blue. And crying for you, too.
You guys, this is all making me WAY too sad. You’re all so nice you keep making me cry! I’m going to post something light and insignificant now so we can think about something else.
But thank you all for your kind words. I really appreciate it.