Sad Day :(
I’ve been very sad and down in the dumps for the past week. This afternoon my husband and I are taking our dog in to be put to sleep. He made the appt on Tuesday and I’ve been crying everyday since then.
Physically, she’s 11 yrs old with the health of a dog half her age. We made sure to feed her the right food, the right amounts, exercise her. We took good care of her so that she would have an easy time adjusting to old age and still be able to be active. But nothing could’ve helped her brain. Mentally, she’s a mess. She was diagnosed with dementia a month ago and I’ve been crying off and on ever since after reading about what would happen to her over time.
She wasn’t herself for a while, so my husband took her in to be checked out. Once she was diagnosed, her mind when downhill pretty rapidly after that.
She doesn’t know whether to scratch her watch or wind her ass. She walks up to walls and just stares at it until I call her attention. She doesn’t understand commands anymore.
We have to lead her to the water and food bowls at various times of the day and nudge her head toward them so that she drinks and eats.
She was a sharp, sweet dispositioned German Shepard who could understand commands just by looking at her (no joke). She was my shadow. I couldn’t go anywhere without her following me. If I went out shopping or wherever else I had to go, she wouldn’t eat until I got home.
Now, her mind is mush.
She wanders the house and tries to fit into the most impossible spaces between chairs, closets, etc. and has the most awful cry when she tries to make her way through. She doesn’t know enough anymore to back her way out of it. I have to pull her out and this goes on all day long. Not much has been able to be done in this house.
The only time I don’t cry is when I’m at the gym or out running errands. And I’ve been running a lot of errands lately.
Seeing how healthy she LOOKS makes it so hard to bring her in. I feel like she’s got a lot of years ahead of her, but she really only has weeks or months because of her mental condition. If she were suffering from arthritis or some other debilitating condition, it would be easier to think of it as putting her out of her suffering.
This will be a very lonely and quiet house while the kids are at school now.
We had told the kids about her condition back when she was diagnosed, and last night broke the news to them about what would happen to her today. It was hard. This is the first major death they’ll be experiencing in their lives.
My oldest son said, "I feel like Rypley has been around my whole life….wait, she HAS been around my whole life."
My youngest son said, "Now we only have one fish as a pet. My fish died." He was referring to his sister’s fish who is a trooper and has lived longer than we expected. Goldfish do not have much luck in this house, but those Beta fish have gills of steel.
The kids have off from school today for whatever reason, so I’m taking the kids to a fair this morning with friends. Seeing the variety of people walking around will be quite a distraction from what will happen this afternoon.
October 2, 2009 at 6:25 am
Shannon, I am soooo sorry. I would tell you my story of my Jake man (German Shepard/PittBull mix) but I don’t want to go into tears right now as I am fighting back a few now from your story. It is truely hard as pets ARE family. Try and be strong. It may not seem so now, but the feeling will get better with time. I can tell my story another time, but I have been there. I give you my best.
October 2, 2009 at 6:59 am
Shan, this just breaks my heart:( The loss of a pet is indescribable…they are such a part of family, and the pain is very intense. Our Labrador and Golden Retriever are our babies and have flown all around the United States and Europe with us…cause there is no way we could part with them…I dread the day that one of them passes, as they are both getting up in age:( I pray for peace to you during this time…hang in there…
October 2, 2009 at 7:07 am
Im truly sorry to hear about this, and I feel your pain. In a different sense, but I too loved my dog like no other. For me, it was hard because I was in the desert when I received the email that he passed, a mere 2 weeks before I was to return to the states for a 2 week break.
My thoughts are with Rypley, he sounds like an extremely awesome dog.
October 2, 2009 at 7:07 am
Hugs to you Shan and your kids & hubby.
October 2, 2009 at 7:17 am
Prayers for ya Shan. Dementia is a toughy. My father went thru it, and it was ugly & depressing his last couple yrs. Give you kids major hugs today.
October 2, 2009 at 7:35 am
Shannon I know words can do nothing to help at this point.
As someone who has been a ‘dog guy’ all his life, I understand the pain. They are with us for far too short a time. They are family and they are missed.
Remember her in her prime and she will always be with you.
October 2, 2009 at 7:42 am
Sorry Shan.
I know how hard it is.
October 2, 2009 at 7:53 am
Shan I am really sorry to hear that. I can only imagine how difficult this is for your family. She has blessed you with special memories your children will cherish.
October 2, 2009 at 8:22 am
all my thinking is with you shannon…i know is hard..(my daughter suffer from arthritis and cronh )…its a same king of emotion….you are the sunshine on her day….stay strong….. :@I
October 2, 2009 at 8:30 am
OMG Shannon… I am soooo very sorry!!! I wish there were words that could make it better. Please know that you have my thoughts and prayers coming your way. Our pets are family and losing a family member is the worst!!
I agree with LilMogul (Lisa)… She has blessed you and your children with special memories that you will all cherish.
October 2, 2009 at 8:53 am
As a pet mommy I know this cannot be easy for you and your family but know that your beloved pet will suffer no more. I pray that in time warm wonderful memories will over shadow the heaviness in your hearts. Keeping you in my thoughts and prayers.
October 2, 2009 at 11:26 am
I am also sorry to hear about Rypley.
Last year my mini wienie dog went through our fence and into our neighbors yard where their two boxers literally tore her apart. I saw it happen and I cried every day for months. I still feel guilty about it.
It will be hard on your kids but harder on you. My dog followed me around the house all day long too. She was my sidekick and it was very odd for her not to be with me.
I sympathize with you and wish you well : ).
October 2, 2009 at 12:13 pm
Shannon I am really sorry to hear this news. I am also going through this with my 9 year old American Bulldog. He recently had a toxin identified in his blood that we have no idea where it came from or what it is. He seems to be getting better, but I think it did something to him mentally also. Is there any type of medicine that the vet can give your shepherd, or is just too far gone already? Our animals are our best friends and they are the ONLY ones that truely understand us. My thoughts are with you on this tough time.
October 2, 2009 at 1:51 pm
It’s so sad losing our furry friends.
October 3, 2009 at 4:16 am
Shan, I feel your loss. I had Airedale Terriers and when I lost my Holly someone sent me the following story, may you find comfort too.
At the Gate
By MYLA JO CLOSSER
From the Century Magazine. By permission of the Century Company and Myla J. Closser.
A shaggy Airedale scented his way along the highroad. He had not been there before, but he was guided by the trail of his brethren who had preceded him. He had gone unwillingly upon this journey, yet with the perfect training of dogs he had accepted it without complaint. The path had been lonely, and his heart would have failed him, traveling as he must without his people, had not these traces of countless dogs before him promised companionship of a sort at the end of the road.
The landscape had appeared arid at first, for the translation from recent agony into freedom from pain had been so numbing in its swiftness that it was some time before he could fully appreciate the pleasant dog-country through which he was passing. There were woods with leaves upon the ground through which to scurry, long grassy slopes for extended runs, and lakes into which he might plunge for sticks and bring them back to—But he did not complete his thought, for the boy was not with him. A little wave of homesickness possessed him.
It made his mind easier to see far ahead a great gate as high as the heavens, wide enough for all. He understood that only man built such barriers and by straining his eyes he fancied he could discern humans passing through to whatever lay beyond. He broke into a run that he might the more quickly gain this inclosure made beautiful by men and women; but his thoughts outran his pace, and he remembered that he had left the family behind, and again this lovely new compound became not perfect, since it would lack the family.
The scent of the dogs grew very strong now, and coming nearer, he discovered, to his astonishment that of the myriads of those who had arrived ahead of him thousands were still gathered on the outside of the portal. They sat in a wide circle spreading out on each side of the entrance, big, little, curly, handsome, mongrel, thoroughbred dogs of every age, complexion, and personality. All were apparently waiting for something, someone, and at the pad of the Airedale’s feet on the hard road they arose and looked in his direction.
That the interest passed as soon as they discovered the new-comer to be a dog puzzled him. In his former dwelling-place a four-footed brother was greeted with enthusiasm when he was a friend, with suspicious diplomacy when a stranger, and with sharp reproof when an enemy; but never had he been utterly ignored.
He remembered something that he had read many times on great buildings with lofty entrances. "Dogs not admitted," the signs had said, and he feared this might be the reason for the waiting circle outside the gate. It might be that this noble portal stood as the dividing-line between mere dogs and humans. But he had been a member of the family, romping with them in the living-room, sitting at meals with them in the dining-room, going upstairs at night with them, and the thought that he was to be "kept out" would be unendurable.
He despised the passive dogs. They should be treating a barrier after the fashion of their old country, leaping against it, barking, and scratching the nicely painted door. He bounded up the last little hill to set them an example, for he was still full of the rebellion of the world; but he found no door to leap against. He could see beyond the entrance dear masses of people, yet no dog crossed the threshold. They continued in their patient ring, their gaze upon the winding road.
He now advanced cautiously to examine the gate. It occurred to him that it must be fly-time in this region, and he did not wish to make himself ridiculous before all these strangers by trying to bolt through an invisible mesh like the one that had baffled him when he was a little chap. Yet there were no screens, and despair entered his soul. What bitter punishment these poor beasts must have suffered before they learned to stay on this side the arch that led to human beings! What had they done on earth to merit this? Stolen bones troubled his conscience, runaway days, sleeping in the best chair until the key clicked in the lock. These were sins.
At that moment an English bull-terrier, white, with liver-colored spots and a jaunty manner, approached him, snuffling in a friendly way. No sooner had the bull-terrier smelt his collar than he fell to expressing his joy at meeting him. The Airedale’s reserve was quite thawed by this welcome, though he did not know just what to make of it.
"I know you! I know you!" exclaimed the bull-terrier, adding inconsequently, "What’s your name?"
"Tam o’Shanter. They call me Tammy," was the answer, with a pardonable break in the voice.
"I know them," said the bull-terrier. "Nice folks."
"Best ever," said the Airedale, trying to be nonchalant, and scratching a flea which was not there. "I don’t remember you. When did you know them?"
"About fourteen tags ago, when they were first married. We keep track of time here by the license-tags. I had four."
"This is my first and only one. You were before my time, I guess." He felt young and shy.
"Come for a walk, and tell me all about them," was his new friend’s invitation.
"Aren’t we allowed in there?" asked Tam, looking toward the gate.
"Sure. You can go in whenever you want to. Some of us do at first, but we don’t stay."
"Like it better outside?"
"No, no; it isn’t that."
"Then why are all you fellows hanging around here? Any old dog can see it’s better beyond the arch."
"You see, we’re waiting for our folks to come."
The Airedale grasped it at once, and nodded understandingly.
"I felt that way when I came along the road. It wouldn’t be what it’s supposed to be without them. It wouldn’t be the perfect place."
"Not to us," said the bull-terrier.
"Fine! I’ve stolen bones, but it must be that I have been forgiven, if I’m to see them here again. It’s the great good place all right. But look here," he added as a new thought struck him, "do they wait for us?"
The older inhabitant coughed in slight embarrassment.
"The humans couldn’t do that very well. It wouldn’t be the thing to have them hang around outside for just a dog—not dignified."
"Quite right," agreed Tam. "I’m glad they go straight to their mansions. I’d—I’d hate to have them missing me as I am missing them." He sighed. "But, then, they wouldn’t have to wait so long."
"Oh, well, they’re getting on. Don’t be discouraged," comforted the terrier. "And in the meantime it’s like a big hotel in summer—watching the new arrivals. See, there is something doing now."
All the dogs were aroused to excitement by a little figure making its way uncertainly up the last slope. Half of them started to meet it, crowding about in a loving, eager pack.
"Look out; don’t scare it," cautioned the older animals, while word was passed to those farthest from the gate: "Quick! Quick! A baby’s come!"
Before they had entirely assembled, however, a gaunt yellow hound pushed through the crowd, gave one sniff at the small child, and with a yelp of joy crouched at its feet. The baby embraced the hound in recognition, and the two moved toward the gate. Just outside the hound stopped to speak to an aristocratic St. Bernard who had been friendly:
"Sorry to leave you, old fellow," he said, "but I’m going in to watch over the kid. You see, I’m all she has up here."
The bull-terrier looked at the Airedale for appreciation.
"That’s the way we do it," he said proudly.
"Yes, but—" the Airedale put his head on one side in perplexity.
"Yes, but what?" asked the guide.
"The dogs that don’t have any people—the nobodies’ dogs?"
"That’s the best of all. Oh, everything is thought out here. Crouch down,—you must be tired,—and watch," said the bull-terrier.
Soon they spied another small form making the turn in the road. He wore a Boy Scout’s uniform, but he was a little fearful, for all that, so new was this adventure. The dogs rose again and snuffled, but the better groomed of the circle held back, and in their place a pack of odds and ends of the company ran down to meet him. The Boy Scout was reassured by their friendly attitude, and after petting them impartially, he chose an old-fashioned black and tan, and the two passed in.
Tam looked questioningly.
"They didn’t know each other!" he exclaimed.
"But they’ve always wanted to. That’s one of the boys who used to beg for a dog, but his father wouldn’t let him have one. So all our strays wait for just such little fellows to come along. Every boy gets a dog, and every dog gets a master."
"I expect the boy’s father would like to know that now," commented the Airedale. "No doubt he thinks quite often, ‘I wish I’d let him have a dog.’"
The bull-terrier laughed.
"You’re pretty near the earth yet, aren’t you?"
Tam admitted it.
"I’ve a lot of sympathy with fathers and with boys, having them both in the family, and a mother as well."
The bull-terrier leaped up in astonishment.
"You don’t mean to say they keep a boy?"
"Sure; greatest boy on earth. Ten this year."
"Well, well, this is news! I wish they’d kept a boy when I was there."
The Airedale looked at his new friend intently.
"See here, who are you?" he demanded.
But the other hurried on:
"I used to run away from them just to play with a boy. They’d punish me, and I always wanted to tell them it was their fault for not getting one."
"Who are you, anyway?" repeated Tam. "Talking all this interest in me, too. Whose dog were you?"
"You’ve already guessed. I see it in your quivering snout. I’m the old dog that had to leave them about ten years ago."
"Their old dog Bully?"
"Yes, I’m Bully." They nosed each other with deeper affection, then strolled about the glades shoulder to shoulder. Bully the more eagerly pressed for news. "Tell me, how are they getting along?"
"Very well indeed; they’ve paid for the house."
"I—I suppose you occupy the kennel?"
"No. They said they couldn’t stand it to see another dog in your old place."
Bully stopped to howl gently.
"That touches me. It’s generous in you to tell it. To think they missed me!"
For a little while they went on in silence, but as evening fell, and the light from the golden streets inside of the city gave the only glow to the scene, Bully grew nervous and suggested that they go back.
"We can’t see so well at night, and I like to be pretty close to the path, especially toward morning."
Tam assented.
"And I will point them out. You might not know them just at first."
"Oh, we know them. Sometimes the babies have so grown up they’re rather hazy in their recollection of how we look. They think we’re bigger than we are; but you can’t fool us dogs."
"It’s understood," Tam cunningly arranged, "that when he or she arrives you’ll sort of make them feel at home while I wait for the boy?"
"That’s the best plan," assented Bully, kindly. "And if by any chance the little fellow should come first,—there’s been a lot of them this summer—of course you’ll introduce me?"
"I shall be proud to do it."
And so with muzzles sunk between their paws, and with their eyes straining down the pilgrims’ road, they wait outside the gate.
October 3, 2009 at 7:10 am
Thanks everyone.
Veronique, that did bring comfort. Thank you.
October 4, 2009 at 3:22 pm
Im so sorry about your loss. I went through something lke that myself once. We have always had dogs but the first one was very special. He lived to be 14. The night I had to carry him upstairs to bed because he couldnt manage on his own, I knew it was the end. Still , we hung in there together for a few weeks until he had a large "growth" removed from his abdomen. I took him in myself. Held him the entire time. Buried him in the yard. Tha t was something like 11 yrs ago. Second one was hit. Now I have a 5 yr old Jack Russell bouncing all over the place. This too shall pass. Take care.