- Dalael
- Oct 14, 2014
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Hello. Yep, I still think Atlantis is Bolivia, yep, I'm still a giant idiot, yep, I'm still a huge racist. Some things never change!
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She was fine Thursday afternoon when I got home. Brought me her 'ducky' toy, and we played fetch a few times while I was on the can. Very normal, she was fine and happy and playful. I took her for her afternoon walk, and she was still fine... Barked back at the yappydogs that were her mortal enemies, sniffed around, had a good pee and took a huge dump I had to pick up.
Around 9pm Thursday she started panting really hard for no visible reason. She was a lab/ ? mix, around 100 lbs, roughly 13 years old. She was pacing between all her normal spots in the apartment, laying down for a few minutes and then going to her next spot. She even squirmed her way under my desk to put her head in my crotch, which she hasn't done since I first got her a decade ago. I have a haunting mental picture of her resting her head in my lap, from under my desk, just like she did when I first got her... with just the right eyeshine... She was saying goodbye, but I wasn't listening. She Knew it was goodbye. I thought "Oh no, my old dog is sick, I'll take her to the vet in the morning..."
When I went to bed, she followed. Normally she's fine to jump up on the bed and sleep next to me, but thursday night she wouldn't put a paw up or climb up into bed. I lifted her up into the bed and told her she was a good dog, knowing that something was wrong. First thing in the morning, we were going to the vet. She was still panting heavily, but she laid there next to me until I fell asleep, like always. I vaguely remember her waking me up as she jumped off the bed sometime during the night.
Friday morning, I got up and... There was my dog, laid out on the bathroom floor. At first I thought she was just sleeping, but... No. She was dead, and stiff with rigor-mortis.
I called my boss and told him gently caress work, called my mother and told her gently caress life, etc. '
I wrapped casey in the comforter she used to sleep on ('her blanket') and dragged her down 3 flights of stairs, cringing all the way... Luckily a random stranger helped me lift her into the back of my truck. I now know what "dead weight" means... She was never this heavy when I hefted her rear end into the bathtub :P
Trying to wrestle her corpse onto my back was... Traumatic. I didn't want to just drag her down 3 flights of stairs. After a few tries I realized I couldn't carry her, and had to drag her within her blanket.
Casey used to play with and love my mother's rescue greyhound named Ready. Ready dropped dead a few years ago after a too-vigorous run, and we buried him to the right of the back gate...
We put her in a wheelbarrow and started digging a grave behind the fence but within the property line. Next to Ready's grave. . I'm grateful that the guy my mom is married to knows how to do this... Sawzall for the roots, pickaxe for the clay below. I felt utterly worthless. I couldn't even dig a grave for my own dog. Several pulled muscles and a few feet of dirt later, we dropped her stiff corpse in the ground... With her favorite toy snuggled up next to her.
I cried like a little bitch while pulling the dirt back over her. I'm sure I'll continue crying like a child for most of this weekend. I got that dog when she was 2 years old. She's been with me through 2 long-term exes, 2 layoffs, and over 10 years. I can't count how many times I've moved house since I got her... Home was where that dog was, waiting for me to feed her...
I am very sorry for your loss.
My dog, Phoebe had to be euthanized last week. October 8th 2015, ~18:50 will remain a date & time etched in my heart forever. Nearly 12 years with her, since she was a 6 week old pup. Just wanted to let you know that I also cried like a bitch, and am still crying whenever my thoughts dwell on her too long.
Thank you for this, I needed the chuckle.
That's the part that kills me. She didn't whine or yelp, she was just panting really hard for no reason and acting a little strange. I looked it up and now I know that's a pain response for dogs. Something broke inside of her, and she knew it... And she said goodbye to me in her own way. But I didn't listen, I thought she had the doggy-flu or something else minor. I keep thinking that if I'd just taken her to the emergency animal hospital an hour away, maybe they could have done something. Or maybe not.
My apartment is way too quiet and still now. I'm the only living thing here, and it bothers me. I keep looking at the couch where she used to sleep, expecting her to be there.
Anyway, thank you to all that replied and expressed condolences. I truly appreciate it.
Man do I know those feelings... I too keep wondering if there is anything I could have done to save her. And where they slept.. poo poo dude.. I absolutely refuse to pack it away. No matter how many toys I could keep for my dog, where they slept is something else. Hers still smells like her. The only physical remains of her in my house is her smell from that bed. and I just can't bring myself to wash it or pack it away. Once its washed, my dog is truly gone, you know?
Dalael fucked around with this message at 11:12 on Oct 18, 2015
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Oct 18, 2015 11:07
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