Half an hour later, the vet comes out to talk to me, and informs me that after opening him up on the operating table, she discovered that his tumor was huge and attached all over his liver, making it impossible to remove.
I had to decide right there, what to do. Do I have him stitched back up and returned to me, to live out the remainder of his life, no doubt under duress - he was not eating - just for my sake to get used to his dying? Or do I let the vet euthanize him so that he won't have to suffer for my sake? I've always been cognizant that I should never benefit at the suffering at another - chalk it up to growing up Buddhist. I took some time to think it over, and then decided to have him brought out of surgery temporarily, so that I can say goodbye to him and hold him as the vet injected him with drugs to put him permanently to sleep.
It was the most difficult thing to do, to hold onto your pet as he's being euthanized.
But I can never forget that look as he looked back at me, headed into surgery. I've carried that load of guilt, that we never got to exchange some sort of ritualistic remembrance of the good times we'd had together, and having a chance to say goodbye before being euthanized. And all that guilt comes flooding back whenever I see pictures from his last days with me, including up to his being put to sleep.
In order to ritualize my sadness, I ended up creating a video of still images and recorded videos over the years, and created a logo for it. Still, even after saying goodbye, it still hurts to remember that last day in his life.
1 comment:
Saw your post on Lifehacker and noticed both the user icon of a Sheltie, and a username that's very similar to mine.
I go by gerryg, or more often by gerrygadget. I too had a Sheltie, named "Gadget". And I, too, had to put her down for a tumor. Hers was in her paw.
Once we noticed it, the vet said he could take it off but she'd lose a couple toes and the surgery would be something over 1k. If we didn't take it off, he gave her 6-8 weeks. She was almost 10 years old, and we didn't have the money, so we decided to let it go until she wasn't functioning well or too much pain. We got pain meds for her every month for 6 months, until she was at the point where she started chewing on that paw and bleeding. It was a sad day when we put her down, and while I was more prepared than you, it still was difficult. She'd been the best dog I've ever had.
I totally feel for you, hope you're coping well. This comment is therapeutic for me, tearing up a bit right now remembering my friend, but glad she's not in pain and glad that I have a lot of good memories.
When you have a moment, consider your own mortality, and ask yourself how *everyone* will remember you when you pass, not just your family. I asked myself that question, and found that my little pup had set a high standard that I wasn't meeting.
I also had to consider eternity, and after some discussions with friends and some research, came to a better understanding of what the good news in the Bible is all about, and the hope and truth it provides. I recommend looking into it yourself, whether you are a believer or not, as it will help you understand better whatever you do believe. Don't let your perceptions of and experiences with Christians color things - go to the source. Whether you appreciate it or not, I will pray for you, and will share in your grief.
Take care,
Gerry
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