My dog died this weekend. I'm absolutely crushed. I euthanized him. I feel like a murderer.
He was 11 years old and he gradually slowed down to the point where he could no longer do almost anything he and I enjoyed doing. He couldn't even sniff around the bushes or pee without me holding him up.
Its been a long time since I posted on my blog, partly because my life was becoming a little bit overwhelming with my 100 pound dog aging as fast as he was.
He spent the majority of his last few months alive snuggling on my bed and when he wasn't on my bed he was asking to be on my bed.
Our whole life together he insisted on being next to me. Even if we were at work together and I went from my painting easel over to the computer screen, he came with.
If I was in the living room or upstairs, he came with. When he could no longer walk he would bark at me to come and get him. Until he stopped asking.
But still I kept pulling him around in this great harness he wore that turned him into a suit case. I took him to friend's houses, to dinner parties, to paint, art shows, to the hardware store, the pet supply store, the art supply store, restaurants, coffee shops, road trips, beach trips, vacations, I took him everywhere with me. I couldn't leave him with friends and family and leave town because he refused to be away from me.
The month leading up to his euthanasia I was stressed. I didn't know why yet but I got a 3 week long headache. My head hurt so long that I finally went to the doctor and got an injection of something that dissolved my aching head for the day and some pills.
When it finally dawned on me that it was time to kill my own dog I realized that was what the mystery headache was all about.
I made the appointment for the next day. That's a lie, my husband made it. I couldn't bear to make it. He had known it was time to do this long before I did and when I finally got on board he called immediately. The next day my dog was gone. Poof.
My house is so fucking empty. I am having a really hard time with this. I don't think I'm doing grief right. I feel guilty. I could have gotten him a wheel chair, a wagon, a bike trailer or a dog stroller and pulled him around in the fresh air. I could have given him more supplements, brought him to more acupuncture, more chiropractor and more cold lasers. Animal psychics and personal trainers came to the house to help. But still he is dead and it is so sad.
My sweethearts Michael and Cashius are my two favorite things in the whole world and now half of my world is gone. I gave him everything I had and it wasn't enough to keep him forever.
I miss him and this is way harder than I thought it would be. That's a lie. I always imagined it to be this hard but when the time came it felt like it might be okay and it might be right.
But now it is done and it is way suckier than I ever thought. I have some big adjusting to do.