Losing a Pet...

[Shrain]

Tomorrow morning, my Nikki dog, my "Devil Dog," needs to be put down. And I can't even be there. 

At least she won't be alone, because my mom and my brother Cory will be there. Most important, she won't be sick any more. But you know, I sure wish I were home. Anyway, Nikki's been... declining for a while--she's almost 15--but as of last night she's suddenly really sick. She hasn't barked in days (very unusual for our beloved Devil Dog, believe me). And she can't really eat or drink because she suddenly has this vertigo problem. Poor little thing falls if she tries to walk; her jaw sorta trembles.

Okay, so some people will invariably say, "Oh brother, it's just a dog." Well, not to me. I'm gonna miss her so very much. I told my bro to give Nikki a kiss for me, and he's such a sweetheart because he paused and then said, "I'll give her fifty."

My favorite picture of Nikki. I call this The Prima Dogga:


And she'll always be part of the family:

[Gemm: Rock & Roll Star; Born to Rock]

I understand what thats like. Last year my dog almost had to be put down. Luckily he pulled through whatever was wrong and is doing fairly well now. But that still makes me worry everyday if whether or not he'll come down with another illness that he won't get back up from tomorrow.

[Tekiel]

Sorry to hear the sad news. 
I'll never forget the time when our dog - the dog I grew up with, the dog who was born before me - had to be put down.  She was such a part of our family, it was really sad when we had to let her go.  But, in the end, it was for the best.  She was like you pooch - had vertigo, couldn't eat, and was always shaking.  It was her time, but we still missed her.   

[Shrain]

Thanks, Gemm and Tek. Right now, I'm just trying to focus on how much better off she'll be. I just have to work off of that perspecitive. So... how about this: it makes me smile a little to imagine how much mischief will ensue once my Devil Dog arrives at the Pearly Gates. Hey, all dogs go to heaven, even devilish ones, right?

Still, I dread the call....

[Skar]

I'm sorry for you Shrain.  I know how you feel.  When I was on my mission one of our cats, 16 years old, who had been part of our family for almost longer than I could remember, reached that stage and had to be put to sleep.  I wept openly. 

Let me assure you that not only will your devil dog be better off, she'll be there to see you when you pass on.

[The Lost One]

(The Lost 24 Wife)  My family's dog dead about 2 years ago, everytime I go home I miss her. She had liver diease. Blood was coming out of her nose, ears and eyes. She dead before they got her to the vet.

 I miss my mollydog very much. There are no friends like dogs. They will play, go on walks and sit with you with no complaining. It was so much fun to put peanut butter on the roof of her mouth. I like to remember the good times we had and I am glad I had my mollydog.

[Peter Ahlstrom]

While I was on my mission, my parents gave my quite old and stiff dog back to his previous owner who had developed MS. I was extremely surprised when they told me, but he got to be her co-convalescent in his last days and I'm sure having him around helped her a lot. It was attention and love I certainly couldn't give him where I was.

[stacer]

I can't tell you how many pets I lost as a kid and even as an adult. When you have a farm with 12 horses, 30 rabbits, several dogs and cats over the course of 20 years, and a hamster, and live near a highway, there are a lot of ways you can lose a pet. The best way to lose them is to old age. Knowing they had a long and full life without injury from cars or stray nails in a barn or anything like that is knowing that you didn't do anything to hurt them, that you were able to fulfill your stewardship over them.

I couldn't imagine losing either of my cats. They're a little piece of home, and knowing that I can take better care of them as an adult than I could the pets of my youth (you simply can't predict that the fence is going to break out in the pasture and your colt get out in the ditch and be hit by a drunk driver, for example)--knowing I can take good care of them comforts me as much as their presence itself.

[Shrain]

Liver disease... oh, dear! Why did they wait so long to take your mollydog in, Lost's wife? But, yeah, I'll remember our exploits together, like how I taught her tricks when she was a puppy or how she loved to steal a nap on my pillow.

And, heavens, I don't know if I could've survived living on a farm if it meant losing so many animals, Stacer. That's the worst, too, when they're young and it's some sort of accident. So, you're right--knowing that she's lived a long time helps take the sting from it.

As does knowing that she'll be up there sniffing around for treats, yapping, racing around at break-neck speeds, and, well, watching for me until I come Home too. (From one open weeper to another, Skar, thanks for posting.)

We've taken good care of her and she us. Now won't be any different, right? But it sure is hard being way over here in Boston while all this happens in Utah... I feel like I'm holding my breath until it happens.

[Pink Bunkadoo]

While I was on my mission, my parents gave my quite old and stiff dog back to his previous owner who had developed MS. I was extremely surprised when they told me, but he got to be her co-convalescent in his last days and I'm sure having him around helped her a lot. It was attention and love I certainly couldn't give him where I was.

I thought they called and asked you first, didn't they?

[Tink]

So this whole discussion makes me wonder something (since I didn't really have any pets as a kid): Do you think that despite the sadness of when pets die that it's worth having the pets in the first place? My husband and I plan on having at least one dog once we own a house who would essentially grow up with our kids. Would you rather have a pet who dies rather than not having a pet at all?

[FirstMateJack]

I think the joy that a pet brings out weighs any sorrow you have at it's loss. IMHO

I am a big pet person, right now we have a Sun Conure that is our little kid. Eventually my wife and I will get two Dobermanns. (Sgt. Striker and some other cool name)

[Skar]

It absolutely outweighs the pain and loss.  You might as well ask the same question about a spouse.

[Tink]

That's true, but when you have a pet, it's most probably *going* to die before you unless you die really young, where as a spouse is much less likely to die before you do, and if he or she does, it's very possible that it will be when you're both old.

I figure it's totally worth it. I just wanted to see if others agree or disagree. We will probably get a dog either way, but I was curious.

[Shrain]

FirstMate and Skar have it exactly right, I think. Even now that she is gone, I would never want to go back and "edit" her out of me or my family's lives. She was such a source of love and amusement that even her devilish ways are just fond memories now.

So... on Friday, Cory and my Mom took her on her last car ride to the vet. I couldn't help but grin through the tears a little when I heard that even though she was very weak and ill, she perked up a little and tried to put her paws up on the door and put her head out the window. She always loved that. So Cory supported her so she could stick her snout right into the wind one more time.

When they got there, I had Cory call me on his cell and put me on speakerphone so that I could sorta "be" there. The vet's office had a lovely blue towel set out for her so she wouldn't be cold on the exam table. (I had my bro bring something, but we didn't need it after all.) I'm so glad that Cory and my mom could be right there, giving her little pats and reassurances. Once the IV was in, and we let our vet administer the injection, her head just wavered, then drifted down and she was gone so peacefully. So fast that I couldn't almost believe it when the vet said Nikki's heart had been stopped for 30 seconds already. It just hit me so hard, though, that she still loved me and my family as much as ever.

I had a dream Monday night. My dad and I were in the old house at our dining room table eating breakfast. And she went to the sliding glass door, and put her little paws up there, yapping to get my attention. Clickety, clack, yap, yap--she wanted out. So I got up to open the door and she made a few little leaps of joy as I approached. Suddenly, though, she just faded away. I turned to my dad, who had gotten up, and I just cried into his chest, saying, "Oh, Dad. She's gone from here now, isn't she?" Then I woke and yet felt comforted. It was like she visited me--in her own special way.