Hello friends,
I’m finding it difficult not to start each recent newsletter with the phrase “What a week.” But each of the past few weeks has indeed been “a week.” As I mentioned in my last letter, my vet suggested euthanizing my one-year-old puppy, Jade. Sometime in the next year (although more likely in the next few months), her kidney disorder would kill her.
My dad and I agonized over the decision. If she were healthy, we would have taken her back to the shelter. It sounds callous. It felt callous too. But my dad works all day, so I would be left home with her to train her. But between my MS and my recent mental health struggles, I couldn’t handle it. At one point, my dad researched in-patient mental health facilities for me. My meds had stopped working, and the added stress from the dog broke me. My dad tried staying home to take care of Jade himself, but even he cracked.
Jade wasn’t healthy, though, and we didn’t want her to spend her last months in a cage. So, even though her symptoms weren’t yet severe, we decided to put her down. When we brought her to the vet Wednesday morning, all the vet techs and doggie daycare workers came in to say goodbye to her. Despite an absolute gremlin, she was also a cuddle bug with a heart of gold. If you met her, you couldn’t help but love her.
After everyone said their goodbyes, they left my dad and me alone with Jade and the vet. In one last act of defiance, Jade pulled the cap from her IV, spilling blood all over herself and the rug. Once we got the cap back on, the vet administered the sedative. It worked quickly. In less than a minute, Jade was practically immobile aside from her breathing. Her tongue lolled from her mouth, reminding me of when Mattie died just a couple of months ago.
Seeing Jade like that, so much like my beloved Mattie, made my tears flow. I cried as the vet then gave Jade the drug that would end her life. My dad and I continued to pet her, showering her with as much love as we could. In a few minutes, she was gone.
When my dad came home later that day, one of the first things he said was, “I’m a terrible person; I killed my poor puppy.” Those words felt like a gut punch. I hated seeing my dad so upset, but I also knew that I was part of why he agreed to put her down now rather than wait for her to get sick. If I were healthier, maybe we could have kept her alive longer. But I’m not, and we couldn’t, so we didn’t.
One of the saddest things about this whole experience is that I’m better now. I still need a more effective antidepressant, but I'm in a much calmer headspace without the stress of managing the dog. Logically, I understand why that’s true. But emotionally, it hurts. I try not to think about it too much so that my thoughts don’t spiral. Writing this, though, I cried again. I cried for Jade, and for my dad, and for myself.
My dad and I agreed to wait, for real this time, before getting a new dog. We might even get a cat instead. But we’ll do our due diligence to be sure we find a pet that we (and by “we,” I mostly mean “me”) can care for properly. In the meantime, though, I have my goldfish. I know a lot of people don’t understand the allure of fish, but they calm me. They make me laugh, too, my water pigs with their wiggly butts and individual personalities. Sometimes, when I watch them long enough, I feel a bit like I’m floating too.
Do you have pets? Have you lost pets? Let me know in the comments. Let’s share stories of our furry (or scaly) friends.
Until next time,
Yardena
So sorry to hear about your dogs, that's really sad.