Unconditional Friend
How having a dog is one of the toughest endeavors.
A few months ago, Saturday Sips contributor Ed sent over an emotional piece about having to put down his dog.
It got lost in the shuffle of life. We’ve been ramping up a project of ours, checking out chain steakhouses, which we’ll finish up soon. But in doing so, I was reminded of this extremely heartfelt piece that can hit home with anyone who’s ever loved a pet.
So, without further ado, please enjoy Ed’s latest piece.
There are a lot of books and articles out there about losing a pet.
None of them will ever make it easier. It is second only to losing a human loved one.
This is about dogs, but any pet that is loved is the same.
I’ve had to put down my family’s dog when I was younger. I’ve given away a dog due to uncontrolled circumstances. I put down my beloved golden retriever a little more than a year ago.
Now, I've just scheduled to do the same to my little mutt of a dog that I didn’t even want. And yet, this one is the worst!
You never get used to it. Every dog owner knows that they will outlive their dog. The first time it happens, shame on them for breaking your heart so badly. It is not fair.
Yet we decide to do it again, knowing full well that we are making a deal with the devil. They will love you unconditionally and bring so much grief in the end. Shame on us!
Throughout their lives, dogs give constantly, so much so that it is easy to take them for granted. After getting a dog, life continues to move. So many things change: marriage, kids, moving locations, different jobs, loss of jobs, and a million more reasons to ignore the dog.
Never fear, they will always be there for you.
When you get home from a long, exhausting day, who is right there in the way? The dog, trying to show you that they missed you, is so excited to show you their toy or to have you throw the ball, to have you lie on the floor so they can renew their scent on you. They’re crossing their legs because they were a good boy or girl holding in their potty, waiting to be let out or go on a walk.
Over time, these tasks become IOU’s or maybe even a burden. It is natural.
Whether you have a family pet, your first roommate, your “fur baby,” or the security of empty nesting, you tend to take them for granted.
Of course, we say we will never do this, and of course, we never mean to, but nevertheless, it seems to happen.
These middle years must be tough for our best friends. They are at their best, and we are far from that.
We know that they will be good boys or girls while we are out. This allows us to stay out longer.
They have calmed down from being puppies. This allows us to relax in the evening, run kids to practice, make dinner, go to a movie, and so much more because our good boys and girls are just that.
Throughout this time, there are several moments when we realize that we might be ignoring them. They are happy, though. A quick walk or a quick game of fetch, and everyone is happy.
There comes a time when it is time to settle that debt. Suddenly, those good boys and girls need our attention.
A time when chasing the ball doesn’t seem to be so easy. A time when the stairs look like climbing Mount St. Helens 14 times in a row.
They know that they won’t be able to get up from their favorite cool spot on the hardwood floor. They look at you with those unjudging eyes and trust you to be there.
It doesn’t matter how many times you have lied about a walk or that you’re taking them to the park instead of the groomer or vet, or tricked them so you can shut the door — they will always assume you will be there.
Even in their hard years at the end, all they want to do is please. They might even feel guilty for being a bother.
Their eyes change from filled with joy and happiness to filled with fear and confusion. It is not the fear of death, though. It is the fear of not understanding why we don’t take them on the walks we did when they were younger, the fear of not being able to chase the ball as far, the fear of having an accident in the house when they are just going outside.
It is the fear of not being a good boy or girl.
We sit here crying while we make the appointment to put them down because they are in so much pain. The kind of pain that is so bad they can’t even hold their heads up for too long, or they aren’t eating, or they hurt their backs, and just standing brings the pain. All they want to do is comfort us because they know something is wrong.
This is time we start looking back with guilt.
One night of human food and extra attention doesn’t seem to be enough, but that is all we have to offer them.
The next day, they put on their bravest face and were as excited as they could be for a car ride, trusting us without a doubt.
There are always mixed emotions when we walk into the vet’s office for our friends, but this time, they can feel there is something different. We are holding back the tears, giving more love than they are used to. And no one seems to be happy to see them.
Every vet has their own way of doing it. They are all passionate and caring. I would never wish to have to do this part of the job ever.
As the final injection is going in, the trust is still there.
This doesn’t take long. About 20 or 30 seconds.
As our best friend is lying there, they look at peace again. There is no more wondering if they will be able to walk, no more whimpering when they go to shake, no more struggling to breathe. They are as we remember them. Good boys and girls!
This is the final act of trust between our unconditional best friends and us. They have trusted us their entire lives. Trusted us to be there for them. We trusted them to always be there for us. They NEVER broke that trust. It is time for us to do the same.
They trust us to end the pain.
