Well, the time has finally come. The day I've been dreading for YEARS upon YEARS. Scruffy's health has deteriorated beyond anything that we could possibly fix with medical care. She has barely consumed a scrap of food in the past 4 days. She's been vomiting non-stop. Jack told me she had blood in her stool yesterday.
Her time has come. We have a 3:30 appt this afternoon to have her put down.
I haven't felt this miserable in years. I know it's horribly selfish of me to say, but I wish she would go on her own. This has been the hardest decision I've EVER had to make. Every time I look into her eyes, I think to myself "There's no way I can go through with this." But then I think about how much pain and misery she's in, I know I have no other choice.
I don't know what to expect. I've read up on it, and for the most part it's supposed to be peaceful, except for that last gasp for breath. That's what's going to kill me most. I still don't know if I can sit there with her. I'm not that strong. I hope it's peaceful, and that she just goes to sleep. I don't think I could live with myself if she shows any sign of struggle.
I'm going to miss "My Kid" sooooo much. I remember the day we got her. I was 15...and a sophomore in high school. We got her at the local pet store. There were about 5 other dogs in the bin...her brothers and sisters. The other dogs in the bin were sleeping; except her. She was standing on her hind legs, peering over the side at us saying "take me home, take me home!" And we did.
Scruffy has always had the most incredible personality. When we would laugh, it would seem that she had a smile on her face. When we would cry, she would nuzzle up to us to try and cheer us up. She was there when my Mom died, and was an incredible source in silent strength when we began the healing process.
She would always run to the back door and greet my when I came home; regardless of whether I was coming home after an aggravating day at work, or stumbling in drunk from the bar @ 3am with friends. It's kind of like a marriage: in good times and in bad...in sickness and in health, she's always been there.
When Scruffy was diagnosed with diabetes early this Spring, I knew she wasn't invincible, and that sadly, her days were numbered. I was EXTREMELY NERVOUS about giving her a daily insulin shot, but the two of us became a team, and made a routine out of it. I'd give her breakfast, she'd eat, then run to the backdoor. I'd then proceed to give her the shot, spank her on the butt 4 times, and let her into the yard. Neither Scruffy nor I were big fans of the needle, but we made it work.
I'm going to miss her like Hell! I'm going to miss her daily greetings at the back door...the way she nudges your arm when she wants you to pet her. I'm going to miss playing with her big ol' ears...and her "snoot." I'm going to miss watching her jump into the pool and swim her traditional lap, before resting her nose in one of the holes in the ladder. I'm going to miss her anxiously sniffing around her stocking at Christmas time, full well knowing she's got treats waiting for her. I'm going to miss everything about her.
Scruffy, you were a great dog, and an even better friend! You will not be soon forgotten!
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