23 July 2007

I had to put my dog down. It was, without a doubt the most difficult thing I’ve ever done.

He’d been deteorating for a while. The vet didn’t give me a definative diagnosis. She semed to hide behind “we need to do more tests.” Part of me will always resent her for not just giving me the bad news that It was cancer. Edward and I got home from a day trip to Orlando on satirday and he was much much worse. I took him to the emergency room.

The vet was so kind. He didn’t sugar coat it he just gave it to me straight.

There were choices to be made. Do I want to be in the room? What do i want to do with his remains? All the time I’ve had him I’ve projected my own fear of dying alone into him and there was no way I could not be there when he went. They put a cathedor in his leg. The he came in with several injections. I held him and told him how wonderful he was and how much he meant to me… Carson, not the vet… I was bawling as was Edward. The vet gave un the shots one by one and his heart stopped. The vet listened with the stethescope and told me he was gone.

Today, I went back to work and it was so very odd coming home to a house without him. Words can’ describe how much I will miss him.