I'm absolutely devastated. I've been trying to prepare myself for the last almost two years when, after having his spleen removed, the vet told us 4-8 months.
Since then he's amazed the vet and us, bouncing around like a pup and enjoying long walks (and being ready for another one after a small break). We did have a blip in July when he had a ear infection and a scan (vet thought it was something else) showed an enlarged prostate and kidneys. She wasn't our usual vet and wanted to put him to sleep. However, as we knew him, we insisted on treatment for his ear and the infection cleared up, leaving him back to his bouncy self. An older vet explained at a check up a week later that sometimes the prostate problem would be benign and that he'd not even consider putting such a fit and strong dog to sleep.
He was due his worming last week (it was slightly overdue, and when that happens he usually eats grass and throws up), so we wormed him and a few hours later he threw up. Thinking it was just his usual sicky thing, I ignored it, but put him on a bland diet of chicken and rice. Normally he's a greedy guts and it's nose in and dish clean at the speed of light, but something was definitely off. he was even refusing chicken so we hand fed him small amounts at a time. By Sunday we were quite worried so it was off to the vet on Monday where our again not usual vet gave him an anti-sickness jab and some ranitidine to help him find food more palatable. Tuesday morning he'd eat nothing and drink very little. We took him in and saw our usual vet who could see by our faces that he needed to do something so he took him in and did some tests. I hated leaving him. He hates the vets and started panicking as soon as he realised we were leaving. The vet was amazed at how strong he was, pulling to get to us. It broke my heart. I will never forgive myself for leaving him there.
We had the phone call to come in a few hours later. The vet brought him in and I could see straight away that he was very ill. Hardly any wag, sad, sad, tired eyes. We knew we had to say goodbye. The vet gave us some time together and brought blankets in for him to lie on. I asked him if he wanted a belly rub and he lay down. He didn't even try to protest when I put my coat under his head. We held him and stroked him while the vet injected him via a catheter. It was very quick and peaceful for him, but it's the hardest thing I've ever had to do.
My beautiful boy has gone. I've cried almost non-stop since. I've not been able to move his bed or his bowls or toys. I went mental when OH took his bones off the garden. Then felt awful as I made him cry. We're both so upset, though he's gone to work which I think has helped him (despite one work "mate" sneering that he took a day off - without pay - to stay with me as I was so upset. Lovely guy - told OH that he didn't know what the fuss was, when his dog was put to sleep, he threw the body in the river on the way home. I think I would have done permanent damage to the bloke).
I'm feeling like I've been kicked in the guts every time I think of him or go out to the room where we kept his food bowls. The leftover "treats" are sitting there making me feel even worse that I never gave them all to him. The physical pain is leaving me breathless. If one more person tells me to get another one as "it was just a dog" I will scream. Or hit them.
I knew losing him would be awful as I loved him so much. I didn't realise I'd be going through this and so suddenly, though. Why did I not see this coming? I hate myself for not getting it right at the end, after preparing myself for so long.
R.I.P my lovely Sam 11/12/01 - 23/12/14
Since then he's amazed the vet and us, bouncing around like a pup and enjoying long walks (and being ready for another one after a small break). We did have a blip in July when he had a ear infection and a scan (vet thought it was something else) showed an enlarged prostate and kidneys. She wasn't our usual vet and wanted to put him to sleep. However, as we knew him, we insisted on treatment for his ear and the infection cleared up, leaving him back to his bouncy self. An older vet explained at a check up a week later that sometimes the prostate problem would be benign and that he'd not even consider putting such a fit and strong dog to sleep.
He was due his worming last week (it was slightly overdue, and when that happens he usually eats grass and throws up), so we wormed him and a few hours later he threw up. Thinking it was just his usual sicky thing, I ignored it, but put him on a bland diet of chicken and rice. Normally he's a greedy guts and it's nose in and dish clean at the speed of light, but something was definitely off. he was even refusing chicken so we hand fed him small amounts at a time. By Sunday we were quite worried so it was off to the vet on Monday where our again not usual vet gave him an anti-sickness jab and some ranitidine to help him find food more palatable. Tuesday morning he'd eat nothing and drink very little. We took him in and saw our usual vet who could see by our faces that he needed to do something so he took him in and did some tests. I hated leaving him. He hates the vets and started panicking as soon as he realised we were leaving. The vet was amazed at how strong he was, pulling to get to us. It broke my heart. I will never forgive myself for leaving him there.
We had the phone call to come in a few hours later. The vet brought him in and I could see straight away that he was very ill. Hardly any wag, sad, sad, tired eyes. We knew we had to say goodbye. The vet gave us some time together and brought blankets in for him to lie on. I asked him if he wanted a belly rub and he lay down. He didn't even try to protest when I put my coat under his head. We held him and stroked him while the vet injected him via a catheter. It was very quick and peaceful for him, but it's the hardest thing I've ever had to do.
My beautiful boy has gone. I've cried almost non-stop since. I've not been able to move his bed or his bowls or toys. I went mental when OH took his bones off the garden. Then felt awful as I made him cry. We're both so upset, though he's gone to work which I think has helped him (despite one work "mate" sneering that he took a day off - without pay - to stay with me as I was so upset. Lovely guy - told OH that he didn't know what the fuss was, when his dog was put to sleep, he threw the body in the river on the way home. I think I would have done permanent damage to the bloke).
I'm feeling like I've been kicked in the guts every time I think of him or go out to the room where we kept his food bowls. The leftover "treats" are sitting there making me feel even worse that I never gave them all to him. The physical pain is leaving me breathless. If one more person tells me to get another one as "it was just a dog" I will scream. Or hit them.
I knew losing him would be awful as I loved him so much. I didn't realise I'd be going through this and so suddenly, though. Why did I not see this coming? I hate myself for not getting it right at the end, after preparing myself for so long.
R.I.P my lovely Sam 11/12/01 - 23/12/14
