Sometimes life just plain old sucks

SouthernN'Proud

Southern Discomfort
I think my dog is dying. Excuse me while I ramble.

Elvis, the best basset hound ever to waddle the earth, came into my life over 10 years ago. He was staying with a co-worker who did not want him even a little bit. Gave him to me, papers and all. Date of birth: January 18, 1995. On first sight, he came out of their pen, walked past her, her husband, and my wife, straight as an arrow to me, and slobbered me from fingertip to elbow. I knew then. That's my dog.

Upon arrival, he drank almost 8 gallons of water and ate like he'd never seen food before.

He has seen me through a cross-state move. A divorce. A remarriage. Buying the house. Cancer. Pancreas attacks. The house burning down (one year ago today FTR). The whole stay here and there summer. Moving back. All of it. On the trip over to our new house, he started acting excited as we got near the property. Normally I have to all but coax him out of the truck; not that day. He damn near knocked me down. He knew. He was home again.

He's been getting skinny. He does that; I didn't worry overmuch. He won't eat; he does that too. But this is different. He's puny, weak, disinterested. He's dying. A day shy of 12 years old. Normal life expectancy for a basset with balls intact is 10-12. I knew this was coming. Just not right now.

So tomorrow, I will take him to the vet. I will ask if there is anything they can do for him. When I hear there isn't, I






I don't know what I'll do. I know I won't let him suffer; he deserves better. I know I won't ask him to endure pain for my benefit. I know what pain feels like, and I would never ask him to go through that for me.

If any of you ever wondered what it would take to get a crusty old redneck to cry like a bitch, now you know.


I know in my heart three things. That dog was well cared for and happy as long as we were together. He lived a good life. And he gave me a thousand times more than I ever gave him.

Goodbye old friend. Rest easy. And thank you so much for being there. There will never be another like you.
 
I'm sorry SnP :(

My doggie is getting old too...she's losing weight but she still eats like a champ and she's still very loving and interested in me when I go to my mom's house. She does have problems with her legs but that's because she twisted it about 6 years ago...we were told then that she'd develop arthritis and have troubles walking and such as she aged (although to date her only real problem is jumping up on things and she's a pretty small do to begin with). I know the weight loss is probably due to her thyroid problem identified on her last geriatric scan (no other issues on it) but I still worry cause she's almost 14...and I worry even more cause I'm not there much to see her and noone else gives her as much attention as me...I don't want her to dye feeling neglected...and I DEFINATELY don't wanna have to go home and take her to the vet to be put down because then she'll think I abandoned her and only came back to get rid of her :crying4:

Anyway, what I'm saying is :sadhug:
 
Oh, SN'P, I know what you are feeling. I had to make the same decision about my Guinevere just over a year ago.

(((HUGS)))
 
Crud!

Sorry to hear about the news, SnP. It's one of the worst decisions that has to be made, but like you said...he had a great life with you.
 
I've been there a couple of times. It doesn't get any easier ... and IMO it shouldn't. You've been through a lot with ol' Elvis. He's probably been closer to you than even your wife can ever be. Let's face it ... if there's ever one being you can be totally offguard with ... it's your pet.

As for crying .... it's no secret .... I cried like a fucking baby putting down a fucking budgie. A $20 budgie, that my mother spent over a $1000 dollars in surgeries and medical bills on. Ovarian cysts, hysterectomy, hormone shots, etc. I wept like a child, where I'd not even cried for my dead brother. To this day, I've not shed a tear for my father. But I cried for that little featherhead.

So, no shame. Give your best friend his due. You've got my number if you need to talk.
 
Been there done that. Back in 1997 I had to put down my 17 y-o cat due to Intestine Cancer. Probably the most loving cat I ever knew. My mother never recovered from that to this date.
I know exactly your feelings and feel sorry for you. Unfortunately, that's the way things are. I'm sure Elvis had a good life.
 
I didn't want to comment on this before until you get a result from the vet. Perhaps he just have a non-fatal problem. Either way, I hope he's fine :)
 
:sadhug: I'm so sorry SnP. I know how you feel. I think anyone who's had a pet can sympathize with you. It's not an easy thing to deal with and you can only do what you think is best for Elvis. I'm not looking forward to the day that Rocky starts getting sick. He's turning 10 on March 1st and the life span of a greyhound is usually 12. My heart goes out to you! Good luck!
 
Sorry to hear it, SnP. Like Prof, I've been through it a couple of times and like him, it never gets easier. I always cry like a little girl and I didn't even cry when my dad died when I was 15. Weird I guess but no one should be surprised by that. ;) I think that for me, the worst part is knowing there isn't anything you can do to make it better. Hang in there, it won't be okay but it will get less painful to think about.
 
I am sorry to hear of your dog's illness. Whatever you decide, since you're emotional state is more real than mine, will be for the best. I do feel for you, though.
 
Well, it's done.

He broke my heart this morning, because he said goodbye to me. As I held him and carried him to the truck, he leaned way up and cuddled his head into my cheek. Then he let out a big exhale...and just lay back. Totally unresponsive to any stimuli. I think he just recognized us after that...no real response to anything.

We took him into the vet's, and explained what has been happening. The decision was made, I took him to the back area, and he couldn't even stand on his own. No more; it's enough. I kissed him and hugged him and told him to rest easy. I think by now he is.

Gonna be tough seeing that emply dog house tonight. I kept his collar, and will put it in a shadow box or something and hang that in my music room/"play" room beside the window that views the sunset. And that'll be that.

Expressing this process here has helped. Knowing that he had experienced all the good things he could, that everything left in front of him was bad, helped too somehow. Because he didn't have to experience them. No more pain. It's all any of us could ask for in similar circumstances.

He was loved, he was happy, he was cherished, and he lived the life he wanted to live as much as I could provide it. No reason to have it end any less noble. It'll be awhile before I get another dog...spring/summer before I even consider it. It won't be another basset...not now. That would cheapen our bond somehow. He deserves to be special in every sense of the word.

You guys will never know him, and that's a shame. He would have your heart too. He did that to everybody. And he knew it.

Spend five extra minutes loving your pet tonight.
 
Back
Top