Thanks to everyone who has been reading, commenting and checking in. Mike and I appreciate all of the support we've gotten since last January, especially all the support in the last week.
We got around to the sad business today of cleaning up some of Dave's things - his ripped up chair, his snuggle beds and his toys. We're going to be contacting a few local shelters and rescues to see what we can donate, along with the case and a half of dog food that we literally just bought.
I found a few pictures of Dave on my camera that were taken last Thursday, four days before. He's playing with his octopus, looking spritely and mischievous. It's amazing what a difference four days can make.
Here's the story:
I was away from Friday night through Sunday morning, and came home to a happy dog that was a little more tired than usual. However, it didn't stop him from cuddling on the couch with us that night. In the morning, Dave got up with Mike reluctantly, but ate his breakfast and pills without any problems. We went to work, Mike got home first and Dave seemed fine. His head popped up in the window when Mike pulled up, and he greeted him at the door. Mike took him outside, where he was fine. They came back in, Dave got his meds, and after a few minutes, Dave wanted to go back out. When he did, he began vomiting and pacing. He would sit for a few minutes, then stand, then shake and had limited control of his back legs. I got home shortly thereafter, and we decided to take him to the vet. We said goodbye on the floor of "his" room, where I got my three kisses. The vet was Dave's "regular" vet - Rothman Animal Hospital - we didn't want to drive to Penn to limit Dave's potential pain.
At Rothman, the vet and the staff were wonderful. They allowed us the time we needed, and the vet assured us that we seemed to be making the right decision. When the time came, it was quick and peaceful. This has been a hard week, but knowing the circumstances surrounding the decision, I'm completely confident that we did the right thing at the right time. No wavering on our part, and no unneccessary pain and suffering for Dave. I love him, and have spent all week starting to talk to him, waiting to hear his footsteps when I'm in the kitchen and looking for him to come around the corner when I get home. I miss my buddy, my boofer, my friendly bear, my stinks. What a good life we had. A short eight years, but what good ones we had!
Nothing is ever wholly lost. That which is excellent remains forever a part of this universe. ~ RWE