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It's amazing how many dogs you see around when you suddenly don't have one of your own anymore. I live in a suburb - they're everywhere.
Linus had hemangiosarcoma, for anyone who wants to learn about this sort of thing. He had no symptoms prior to his collapse on Friday - he might have felt some discomfort, but it wasn't enough to slow him down or affect his appetite. He was galloping around my mother's yard and thundering up and down her stairs on Thursday, and wolfed down dinner in his usual haven't-eaten-in-a-week fashion early Friday evening. The vet who examined him on Friday night palpitated his abdomen and couldn't feel the tumour despite its size.
( More details, cut for the easily squicked. )
I guess I'm writing this all down because Linus went from being an apparently perfectly healthy dog who wasn't even showing his age to an acutely ill and aged animal who had to be put to sleep in the space of less than 24 hours. Even though he was 13 years old, I never thought of him as 'old' because he never acted like it. He played with his squeaky toys incessantly and strangers often asked me how big he was going to get when he finished growing. I'm glad that he didn't have an extended period of decline, but a part of my brain keeps asking, "Why did you tell the vet to do it when he was fine just a few days ago?" If I can get my stupid head to accept that he really was very sick, then it will feel more like I saved him from inevitable suffering and less like I condemned him.
I don't usually use LJ for personal posts, but I'm taking this pretty hard. (Note to self: buy shares in Kleenex.) Due to events and my own illnesses in recent years, I'm very self-aware and I'm now in the peculiar position of watching myself shut down. My apartment is so empty when I go home (I live alone) and I don't know what to do with myself when I get there. So far, I've solved the problem by sleeping alot. Last night, I went to bed at 8 pm.
This is all a long-winded way of saying that I'm not keeping up with LJ very well at the moment - actually, I'm not keeping up with anything very well, except possibly any sleep deficit that I might have had - so please don't think that I'm ignoring you. I'll be OK; it'll just take me a little while to get there.
Eventually, I will find comfort in the fact that Linus went quickly and without suffering. He was a good dog and he deserved that.
Eventually, I will find comfort in the fact that my decision spared him a lingering, painful, and unavoidable death.
Right now, I find comfort in remembering that, when I arrived at the clinic on Saturday, he walked as fast as he could towards me, wagging his tail, and lay down next to me and went to sleep with his head on my lap. I was the centre of his world and he trusted me and that pretty much says it all.
I just wish it didn't hurt so damn much.
~*~
Thank you all so much for your kind words in comments to my last few posts. They mean more to me than you could possibly know. ::loves you all::
If you've lost a pet and want to do something that will help others in their memory, check out The Farley Foundation. You can also buy an engraved brick in the Founder's Path and Garden at the School for Canadian Guide Dogs for the Blind. Linus and Daisy, the dog I grew up with, already share a brick there - Mom and I went to see it again on Sunday.
Linus had hemangiosarcoma, for anyone who wants to learn about this sort of thing. He had no symptoms prior to his collapse on Friday - he might have felt some discomfort, but it wasn't enough to slow him down or affect his appetite. He was galloping around my mother's yard and thundering up and down her stairs on Thursday, and wolfed down dinner in his usual haven't-eaten-in-a-week fashion early Friday evening. The vet who examined him on Friday night palpitated his abdomen and couldn't feel the tumour despite its size.
( More details, cut for the easily squicked. )
I guess I'm writing this all down because Linus went from being an apparently perfectly healthy dog who wasn't even showing his age to an acutely ill and aged animal who had to be put to sleep in the space of less than 24 hours. Even though he was 13 years old, I never thought of him as 'old' because he never acted like it. He played with his squeaky toys incessantly and strangers often asked me how big he was going to get when he finished growing. I'm glad that he didn't have an extended period of decline, but a part of my brain keeps asking, "Why did you tell the vet to do it when he was fine just a few days ago?" If I can get my stupid head to accept that he really was very sick, then it will feel more like I saved him from inevitable suffering and less like I condemned him.
I don't usually use LJ for personal posts, but I'm taking this pretty hard. (Note to self: buy shares in Kleenex.) Due to events and my own illnesses in recent years, I'm very self-aware and I'm now in the peculiar position of watching myself shut down. My apartment is so empty when I go home (I live alone) and I don't know what to do with myself when I get there. So far, I've solved the problem by sleeping alot. Last night, I went to bed at 8 pm.
This is all a long-winded way of saying that I'm not keeping up with LJ very well at the moment - actually, I'm not keeping up with anything very well, except possibly any sleep deficit that I might have had - so please don't think that I'm ignoring you. I'll be OK; it'll just take me a little while to get there.
Eventually, I will find comfort in the fact that Linus went quickly and without suffering. He was a good dog and he deserved that.
Eventually, I will find comfort in the fact that my decision spared him a lingering, painful, and unavoidable death.
Right now, I find comfort in remembering that, when I arrived at the clinic on Saturday, he walked as fast as he could towards me, wagging his tail, and lay down next to me and went to sleep with his head on my lap. I was the centre of his world and he trusted me and that pretty much says it all.
I just wish it didn't hurt so damn much.
Thank you all so much for your kind words in comments to my last few posts. They mean more to me than you could possibly know. ::loves you all::
If you've lost a pet and want to do something that will help others in their memory, check out The Farley Foundation. You can also buy an engraved brick in the Founder's Path and Garden at the School for Canadian Guide Dogs for the Blind. Linus and Daisy, the dog I grew up with, already share a brick there - Mom and I went to see it again on Sunday.