Pets

This morning I had to take my beautiful chihuahua mix (Markie) to VCA in Palm Springs to end his suffering. I have had bouts of crying all day. He stopped eating, was barely drinking and had to be carried in and out of the house to go to the bathroom. This morning when I got up, he couldn’t. He tried, but was unable. I picked him up and carried him outside and balanced him on the grass. He was unsteady, but was able to urinate while I balanced his rear. He just stood there and couldn’t move, so I picked him up and carried him into the house. I balanced him near his water bowl and he was unable to drink. Two weeks ago he was 13 lbs and today he weighed in at 9lbs. Spend as much time as you can stroking and massaging Goldie. I too was processing letting go for the past two weeks. I knew the end was near, but I was hoping he would just go to sleep and not wake up. I wanted something to relieve me of my responsibility, something else to intervene. I knew Markie needed me to help him and I knew he was struggling, but I was stuck on the letting go part. I probably should have done this yesterday, but I needed more time and was still hoping he would pass in his sleep. This morning forced the decision and his suffering was ended. My veterinarian told me it was time and that I was doing the right thing. The whole time, tears flowed down my face. I held Markie the whole time as his body went limp. The doctor checked for a heart beat and said I’m sorry for your loss, you did the right thing. She said I could stay with Markie as long as I needed, but I kissed him on his muzzle a few times, told him I loved him, thanked the doctor and went out to the car and cried. Letting go is hard and when the time comes, you will do what’s in Goldie’s best interest and it will be hard and it will hurt. Markie was adopted out of a hoarder situation 11 years ago. The place where he existed, was a shed with 100 or so other dogs. He had a piece of his right ear missing, a large scar on the top of his head, and his tail was missing a piece in the middle. He was obviously beat up and attacked be other dogs. He ate whatever the other dogs left, if they left anything. He had bad teeth and mange. But we fell in love with him. The first year in our home, he paced and paced and paced. He had to be corralled in a bathroom and left alone there before he’d eat. It was hard to watch, but we just let him be and allowed him to decide when and if he would trust us. Slowly but surely he did and we bonded. I can’t believe he’s not here tonight and I’ve done more crying while writing this. But the memories are beautiful of the dog that emerged and the friend he became and the joy he gave to us. Letting go is hard. I will keep you and Goldie in my thoughts.