Well, I have got to stop blogging about events in my life. As soon as I say we’re all healthy, a child gets sick. And as soon as I say I’m worried about the dog, she gets worse.
I knew it was getting worse on Saturday when I blogged. The husband and I had the discussion about whether it was time to let her go, but I couldn’t. She was still smiling in her eyes. I couldn’t let her go.
But when I woke up Sunday to find her tummy a little too rounded, I knew we were in trouble. I took her into the vet and he confirmed our worst fears. There was fluid in her abdomen and there was nothing more we could do. But the husband couldn’t get off work. With an assurance from the doctor that she wasn’t in pain — yet– we were able to bring her home for another day with her and arranged to bring her back this morning, when all of us could be with her.
We fed her lunch meat and cake and cookies and spoiled her yesterday, but there were a lot of tears, too. Our friends came over this morning to say goodbye and we took some last pictures, but I was in and out of tears. We took her to the doctor and I looked him straight in the eye, asking one last time if this were his dog, would he put her down. He told me that this was the last kind thing we could do for her and that yes, he would not want his dog to suffer the death she was to face within days.
So the husband held her and I petted her face and ears, telling her that we’d love her forever. And we will. She was my Goosey Lucy, my Lucy-Loo. She was always present, watched the kids like they were her own, and never let us down. She was a good dog. I hope we were as good at being her family.
And even though I know we did the right thing, I feel like a murderer. I feel like I killed one of my best friends. I feel guily about every time I complained when she started losing bladder control on occasion. I feel guilty about every time I ignored her or chewed her out for mooching at the table. And all this is normal. I know. But what won’t go away is that I miss her. This I know because I now have lost seven animals in my life. But Lu-Lu was the first dog that was my dog. Not my parents’ dog. I just can’t believe she’s not here.
The cats, by the way, are walking around the house regarding us as if we are the Cosa Nostra, we had her bumped off, and they’re next.
So now we need to move on. And listen to everyone we know say, “Hey, I know this guy who has some puppies…”
Goodbye, my sweet girl. We really will love you forever.