Forewarning, this could cause sad feelings. Sorry ahead of time.
So recently, my best friend (aka Taz) started having some trouble getting around.
As in: the past 4 months, Taz has started going down in his back end.
As with all large breeds, there is always a large possibility of this happening due to hip issues or just old age and arthritis. We thought it was the latter.
To remedy the pain we assumed him to be having, we started him on glucosamine with a vet's approval. We saw a lot of improvement. However, the past 4 months, as I mentioned, Taz started falling apart little by little. In the beginning, it was small things like: he wasn't running when toys were thrown (he would start off running then turn into a walk), he was a little slow getting up, or he simply became clumsier. Then, the last month or so, we realized how serious it was getting. Taz couldn't even run/jog for toys. He was struggling to get up. He couldn't even use the restroom without almost falling into as sitting position. Food became a struggle because he couldn't keep anything down. The final straws were when we realized Taz would wet his bed because he couldn't get up. He struggled to get up stairs (often falling multiple times) and getting in and out of his dog house was a hazard. He was simply not enjoying life like he used to. We started noticing a deterioration in his muscles, and he started dropping weight. Now before I share the inevitable, let me just say: it was the hardest thing in the world to watch. Day after day of watching him struggle and hurt. The worst was when he would look at us. His mind was there, strong and vibrant. His eyes would still get that heart stopping sparkle in them when we came home, and he still looked at us like we were his everything. Because we were.
We decided it was time to put him down. Honestly, the choice to end a life is the hardest choice I have ever been forced to make. Taz was my baby. How could I possible put down my whole world?
The problem came down to choices: put Taz down know, before he loses all mobility and while I'm still at home, or wait for him to get worse. The worst part was knowing that he would deteriorate faster because once a dog starts to go down, the dog will be down within a few months.
My dad set the appointment, Saturday, August 9th, 2014. We had a week to make Taz feel how much we loved him and to say our goodbyes.
Taz and I spent countless hours together, attempting to play, lounging around, cuddling. You name it.
Thursday night, it hit me like a lead bullet. Up until then, it seemed like time would stop, but while laying in bed Thursday night, I realized the gravity of what would happen. I started to cry...no, not the pretty, light cry. No, the bone wrenching, heart stopping type of cry. I began searching what to expect, and everything came back with:
- Dog has option of being sedated
- Injection of pentobarbitone (same stuff used to sedate dogs during surgery), which is essentially given as an overdose
- Dog will be gone within seconds
Everything seemed so cut and dry, but to someone like me, who panics over death, it sounded like my worst nightmare.
Saturday rolled around too quickly, and I gave Taz a ton of treats and goodies.
It still hadn't hit me, yet.
Then it was suddenly 12:00, and we started to get ready: covering the pickup seats with a cover in case Taz's bowels released after death, picking his two favorite toys to bring, grabbing his leash, then finally, loading Taz up. Getting a 100+lbs dog up into a truck when his back legs are too weak to help is extremely difficult, trust me. In the end, we chose to lift him up. The way Taz climbed in placed his paws and head on my lap, which seems beautiful in one's head, but when you have to hold onto said dog while his claws are digging into your thighs because he's trying to stay laying on the seat, it is not pleasant. I couldn't be mad, though. I could never be mad at him.
I'll skip the details here, mostly because I can barely remember anything except Taz going to sleep due to the sedative and then, falling apart.
I feel I should mention a few facts:
- We almost backed out when they gave Taz the sedative because he fought. He kept trying to stay focused and awake, to stay with us. It broke my heart, and I know my family felt the same.
- I made a promise to myself that I would be the one to hold Taz when it happened, and I would keep smiling until his heart stopped beating...I did it...barely. Those few minutes of waiting for the sedative and watching everything happen destroyed me, yet somehow, I held it together until the end.
- I did indeed cry. I make it sound so calm and mild, but trust me, I felt like I was dying. It was the worst kind of torture.
- I was the last face Taz saw...just like I was the first face he ever saw.
- I held Taz like I did when I first brought him home...granted, he was only a few weeks old then weighing about 2-4lbs then, but even at 14 years old and 100+lbs, I held his little head and paws like I was Simba in The Lion King. Ya feel?
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| This was Taz in the sleepy faze (after the light sedative). |
Now girlfriend, here's the hard part: questioning yourself.
I started questioning myself.
Did Taz think he did something wrong?
Did Taz feel any pain?
Does this make me the worst human on the face of the earth?
How did I do this?
Although it was one of the hardest days of my life, I felt oddly...relieved. It was like I knew that he wouldn't be in pain. I wouldn't constantly have to worry about him falling, hurting, or anything else. He is in a better place.
And an added bonus?
I didn't panic.
Nope, not once, although I did cry for a good...mmm...8 hours.Taz now has a place next to his favorite tree. We buried him on his night night pillow and surrounded him with all four of his favorite toys: a mini soccer ball, a tennis ball, a squeeky toy, and his piggy.
Now, he can play with all of his awesome toys in heaven with all of our other loved ones.
So, this post is for you, Taz. My best friend. I am so thankful I picked you out, you fat little lard.
Thank you for staying by my side during my first ever full panic meltdown, and thank you for loving me no matter how horrible I had acted towards you. Thank you for all the beautiful memories, and making me feel loved and special. Thank you for constantly taking the weight off of my shoulders.
I love you.
Pour toujours et toujours.
