The last 24 hours have been pretty rough. My wife's dog, Sassy, who just celebrated her 22nd birthday 2 weeks ago, had to be put down yesterday. She was walking around the house and fell over and starting having a seizure. She came out of it but she just wasn't the same. She was vomiting and unable to hold her bowels... When I came home from work, Cindy said it was time. She knew the day was coming but really wasn't prepared for it.
Most people we talk to have never heard of a dog this old. Unfortunately, Sassy never had her papers so we couldn't actually physically prove she was 22, but who cares. We know when she was born and thats all that matters. She was a good dog, never mean, always there when my wife needed her most. Someone to laugh with, someone to cry with, unconditional love and companionship. Sassy was there long before I was so there is a very special bond they have that I could never replace. I hurts me to see my wife lose something so very close to her and see the pain in her eyes and heart.
I know she did the right thing, I know it was time for her, even if it wasn't time for me. But how do you say good-bye cheerfully to a loving constant in your life like a dog? Right now, we have to get used to the void she leaves. Her humans took it for granted that every time we turned around and there she was - underfoot, just
waiting for us to give us a kiss or to receive a pat. And how now, after she's been gone only 24 hours, we are still looking for Sassy around every corner.
But it was her time to leave and I made her a promise. A promise that was so very hard to keep. The lines of a poem by Julia Napier sum it up pretty well: "If it should be that I grow frail and weak And pain should keep me from my sleep, Then will you do what must be done, For this - the last battle - can't be won. ... For on this day, more than the rest, Your love and friendship must stand the test. We've had so many happy years, You wouldn't want me to suffer so, When my time comes, please, let me go ..."
Good-bye Sassy, and know that your humans loved you.