Wednesday, 15 February, 2012 04:08
22 Comments
The day that would never come.
There’s come a time when I’ve realised something I hadn’t seen before. I always professed I wanted Pepper to end her days by herself. Naturally. My hope was for her to have a dignified end but that if pain was making living too hard, I’d cross that bridge when I came to it.
I’m walking on the bridge now. And I have a big juicy bone enticing my old faithful girl to follow me.
I did not even see, before yesterday, that she won’t go until I lead her. She is too obedient. She is too apologetic. Look at that photo up there. That is the doleful look she has always had. The grateful look. The care-taking “may I help you?” look. To this day, stumbling and disoriented as she is now, she waits to be ushered inside (or out) and never assumes to go anywhere we haven’t directed her. Why would she not look for my guidance now? Jazz is another story. A different energy altogether. She barges her way past all of us, whacking Pep in the face with that kangaroo-strength tail of hers. She waits for no one and has to be reminded of the correct etiquette (she knows it, she just takes liberties all the time).
Pepper wouldn’t dare. She’s not even going to die without being given permission.
Before yesterday, I thought it would be wrong somehow of me to snuff Pepper’s lights out. But she seems to have reached a point where she needs me. Needs help to stand down. An insightful Facebook friend I’ve known for a number of years suggested the poignant timing of this turn of events for our old girl. On the back of my last post where I mused that I really felt “okay” now…. here she is, turning up beside me to hang her lead on the hook and hand in her badge collar.
Forcing my hand.
Willing me to choose.
Now we are deciding on burial spots in the backyard and whether we’ll opt for a call-out from the vet or if I will take her on one final car ride.
I have been torn by this for so long. But now it’s no turning back. There will be no more false alarms for dear Pepper. Remember that rather embarrassing time two years ago when I thought her number was up but she had just gorged herself on dog food? That was an embarrassing laugh (only with hindsight, I hastily add). I don’t want her to be in pain. A trip to the vet this morning confirmed she has lost most of the feeling in one back leg, the other is not too crash hot. Her front legs are barely holding her weight and she has lost so much muscle tone that her lower back is now compromised. The way she falls (hard) and the increased frequency of her slips mean that I just cannot allow her to go on any longer.
And I realised, not more than three hours ago, that it is only appropriate that it is me who has to be with her. She and I. The two of us. Alone. Together. We spent so many days this way over the past seventeen years. I would literally burst outside to find her if I had become overwhelmed by my grief during the long days when Steve was at work. I’d call Pep – she was never far away – and she would sit with me, whine alongside me as I would sob and sob and sob. She’d slip a paw up into my hand and rest her head on me. Always.
[As an aside, how the hell Steve coped going to work through that, I will never know. If anyone, wants some assistance with understanding from a male's perspective, I encourage them to seek out we did it, she’s leaving after seventeen years - that one was a super-important post about my girl. So. I can officially say I really have lived with Pepper for as many years as I lived with my mother! I rest my case.
I feel for you. My dad had to do this for our family dog. I think it was harrowing. We were all quite dispersed at the time.
I don't know if this will help, but he dug the grave at home and had the vet come out. They lay her in there with her floor towels. He didn't think he could do it any other way. And then he buried her and emailed us all a "prayer".
I received it just before I was leaving home (Sydney) to fly to London. I bawled the whole way…
Not sure if I'm helping. Sorry…
Hi Kate, oh that is lovely. Yes we have that service here and we are deciding where to dig. I just can't fathom the thought of not bringing her home to rest. Thank you for commenting.
Oh Kirilee
Heartbreaking – I am crying at my desk remembering when I had to make the same decision. The day came when our beloved little Silky Terrier couldn't stand up as his back legs didn't work any more. Having to make the decision to put him to sleep was indescribable.
Strangely, I couldn't bear the thought of bringing home his ashes, or him. I am sure the vet found that a bit weird – two distraught people in his room who just wanted him to take away their dog and not have any token or reminder. But we just couldn't handle it.
I have nothing to say but wanted to let you know that I have been and read and I know how this feels. xxx
I lost it crying at "handing in her collar".
I wish you some lovely cuddles, ear stroking, belly rubs and nuzzles for your last moments together xxx
Oh Kirrliy,
you know we have our old dog's ashes here. Being that we move, we couldn't stand the thought of him being buried somewhere and we didn't live there anymore.
I thought of you as I drove past the vet today. I'll think of you all now.
That's it… not sure what else to say. When you're ready, come up and we'll drink to beloved dogs everywhere, one one in particular.
xxx
Oh darling girl. Just huge hugs. I am sobbing at your words, for you. Xxxxx
Still sadness. That look is in our dog's eyes sometimes now too. She's not even 2 – but a rather shocking incident 4 weeks ago led to us discovering her kidneys are failing badly and we're back to the vet tomorrow for another checkup. I thought we'd have years with her not months. And she's so gorgeous – another kelpie cross rescue dog. They are the best aren't they? I'll be thinking of you while you're saying goodbye. It's the hardest thing to do to make a decision you know is the right one but that causes so much pain.
Letting my very faithful girl go to sleep was by far one of the most difficult things I have ever had to do, she was there through every part of my life, and still today 2 years on tears still fill my eyes, but she was here for a reason with me as I am sure your pepper has been too. My thoughts are with you
Thinking of you all, Kirrily. It is such a heartbreaking thing to go through. I don't know if it's the right thing to say, but I do think that Ella will be there to welcome her, and she will become Ella's faithful companion. xo
That made me so sad. Our pets worm their way into our hearts – no matter what they are always there for us. We are all thinking of you and Pepper xxxx
No words really. This is so hard, I know. She's been your best friend through the absolute worst times in your life.
Sending love.
xo
Strength to you for this hard task. The vet came to us last year when it was time for our old dog, it was so sad but felt very right (for us and Gus) to have him here at home.
Hugs to you all. What beautiful people Pepper had for the last 17 years, to be so loved by you, to be surrounded by your love for all that time, means she was a very lucky dog. The ultimate gift of love is to realise that you had to let her go. Brave and wonderful Kirrily, Steve and LGBB I know you will miss her, especially you Kirrily, but she can now run free of pain. Rest in Peace Pepper.
They know when their time has come; they know when they are ready and they communicate it to us in so many ways waiting for us to listen. Amongst the pain and heartache and the loss… helping her with this is an honourable and fully loving service for a family member. And you are correct, there is something right about it. Love to you all. x
Sitting in a puddle. Just know that I understand, I am only a few short months behind you. Our dear old girl (border/kelpie) turned 16 last week. We hear her crashing on the floor every now and then as her back legs go under like a folding table. The anti-inflams and especially the warm weather does wonders for her, one cold morning and she simply can't move. The hardest fact is, she's fine otherwise. I am not planning past Winter. Dreading winter. I am so with you. Sobbing. xxx
I am sitting here crying for you and Pepper, remembering how I felt when I had to have my cats put down but knowing it would be worse to make them suffer by carrying on.
Heartbreaking
She's such a wise one, that Pep. Big hugs for her and all of you.
Bawling.
My Maddy and Clodagh are waiting for her.
x
crying….
My beloved labrador Sheba died after a long walk in the sun last May and I miss her every day but today, after reading your beautiful words, I am in tears.
Sadly, neither Sheba nor I got to choose her final resting place. She was not buried in her favourite spot of the garden, nor near the beach she so loved to walk along. I can't visit her whenever I want and I miss that more than anything else.
Take your time choosing the spot and know that the love and gratitude in your heart lasts beyond a lifetime. And know that, as one of the canine world's great meeters and greeters, Sheba will be waiting for your Pepper on the other side of the rainbow bridge.
Again ((((hugs))))