A girl and a dog

This post has been a couple weeks coming, not only because I am over due on the blogging but also because this happened a couple weeks ago and I have been avoiding it. While Matthew was out of town I had to put our dog down. Whomp whomp. I haz the sadz.

I got Mushi as a graduation present when I got that little piece of paper that meant "yay! I am worth what you pay me!" My mom got him for me. I was single and I had decided I really wanted to do therapy work with a dog for fun volunteer opportunities. I did all sorts of training with him, working with him four times a day before work, after work and I would drive home twice a day. We got his Canine Good Citizenship but he was far to skittish and shy for therapy work so it didn't work out. But he was so obedient! Which was a fine trade off, I settled for the idea of trying again to do therapy work with the next dog.

Over the previous couple of weeks we had noticed that the dog was eating less and less and now when I look back, the last time we had him shaved I had commented to the groomer that he was so skinny! Right before Matthew left I told him I guess I would take the dog the vet, he asked why and I said "oh you know, dying."After Matthew left I noticed he wasn't eating at all. No food. (We were both filling the dish, or not, so I think each of us thought the other was picking up the slack.) The kids gave him a milk bone and he took it, walked over, dropped it, and walked away. Not a good sign!

Tracy and Shannon came over and commented on how bad he looked all of a sudden, we see them all the time, and they even noticed a drastic change. That sealed the deal, I would be taking him to the vet on Monday.

I was able to get him to eat some of the chicken that we had for dinner on Sunday which was good. I was hopping that his teeth were the problem. My mom watched the kids so I could take him in. The vet wanted to do blood work and I did it. (And paid the $130... ouch!) Knowing that the dog was old anyway... I am not sure why I did it, I knew that we wouldn't do anything if they found anything but when it came back clean and the vet started talking about xrays she pointed out that even if we didn't do anything drastic, we could still make him comfortable. Okay, okay... I told her if things changed I would call back for an xray.

So after initially deciding no on the xrays because I was getting him to eat chicken, he again stopped eating and bonus, got sick in the house. (Which I am sure was absolute torture because he is such an obedient dog!) Ugh. I called back and scheduled xrays for the following afternoon which was a Thursday.

Knowing that not eating was one of the final signs for an older dog...

Over night he was sick again and I knew it was just time. I had been telling the kids for a few days that he was sick and to not chase him and stuff because that wasn't fun for him any more. They would pet him gently and tell him they were sorry he was sick. He had just started being a fan of the kids maybe a year ago, Duncan and he were super cute together, before that he would just run away from these little unpredictable creatures.

So I had made the decision and I was a mess. I called Matthew to let him know that it was time and he was so sad he wasn't here to support me, he asked if it could wait a day and I told him "when you know, you know." It could not wait. He wasn't healthy, he was sad, he was probably in pain, let's just muscle up and do this. Cue bawling, because that's what I did for a day straight I think. At one point, Duncan hugged me and said "mom, I am sorry you are so sad..." It was so sweet.

It was worse than I thought it would be. I mean, for a long time the dog was all I had and he was great... but once I had kids he got significantly bumped down on the totem pole and he was more of an annoyance. So given that, it was much harder than I even expected. I can't imagine if I would have lost him before the kids came along! The vet told me "It's hard to feel bad when you know you are doing the right thing and we know he is sick." Which is true, but I think having him die more naturally would be a bit less traumatic.

I was going to leave Matthew to tell the kids because I knew Duncan would have a hard time with it. So I told them he was so sick he had to stay at the dog doctor to see if he can get better. I thought, it's the least he could do since I did the other part! So when he got home he sat Ian and Duncan up at the counter and was not delicate at all! I was like "I could have done that!" Duncan burst into tears and Ian said "Now we can get a CAT!"

So I took Duncan into my room by himself and we had a talk about how dogs don't live as long as people and it's really hard but I have had three dogs that were important to me now and I told them about the other dogs and told him that he will have other dogs that he loves and that he gets close to. I told him dogs go to heaven which Matthew isn't 100% bought into (because he is crazy!) and he said "So when my grandpa comes back Mushi will too?" So adorable.

Every once and a while he makes comments that he misses Mushi but everyone will be okay. It's definitely lonely at night, especially if Matthew isn't here. It wasn't as quiet as it is now! Good thing he is not gone a whole lot but when he is... I might need to borrow a dog.

As for another dog... that day I was telling myself how I could not go through this again, it was horrible! Why would anyone want to go through this?! But I am warming to the idea and the potential to do the therapy work I was unable to do with Mushi. I am not convinced we will be able to decide on a breed though... so we will revisit this in a few months when I am on board all the way.

After all, every boy needs a dog...