Ned
Footballguy
I've gone back and forth about writing a thread on this since we made the decision on Sunday night, but ultimately want to write it all out to help sort these feelings out. It's going to be long and pretty depressing; I don't blame folks for skipping it (I probably would). For those that do read/respond, I appreciate it.
We brought him home and buried him in his spot; our 9 and 11yr old sons helped. We explained to them the night before - they weren't real sure how to react. They were good through the burial and even asked to see him and gave him one last scratch. I don't think they were super attached to the dogs since the dogs were around prior to either kid being born. Ryder was out there with us as well and sniffed every inch of the box. He was licking the handle cutouts where it was open to the inside of the box. I don't know what he was doing or what it meant, but it was interesting.
Between yesterday and today, I've been pretty down. More down than I ever would've expected over a dog. Making the decision to put him down and then going through with it has been the 2nd hardest thing I've ever done (1st being telling my mom its time to go to Hospice). In some ways, this feels more painful and real than when I lost my parents; and that makes me feel absolutely ridiculous. I'm ashamed to even write it out... However, I've spent some time reflecting on this and think I understand it a little. I don't know, it could be my way of coping....
RIP Bailey https://scontent.fphl2-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/33329562_956874497801070_381691377068539904_n.jpg?_nc_cat=0&oh=72c99179451215b842bf9228b572393a&oe=5BC17907
We've had 2 dogs since 2003; 1 yellow lab named Bailey and 1 chocolate lab named Ryder. They're only 6 months apart in age, which has been awesome to watch them grow together in their own little pack. However, now that we near the end, it's been difficult watching the slow decline happen x 2. We've been very fortunate that both dogs grew old with zero health issues to speak of. 14 is a pretty long time for a lab, so having both go this long is amazing. The biggest vet bill we ever had was when they both decided to compete for the same tennis ball and proceeded to smash mouths; each knocking out 2 front teeth requiring dental surgery to pull roots. From that day forward Bailey always shied away from a ball that Ryder was going after. 
Both have been going through the typical weight loss, energy loss, back/hip issues, etc. But they've still 'been all there'. Bailey in particular was struggling more with the back/hip issues to the point the fusing of his back was pinching a nerve that caused him to start losing sensation of when he needed to poop. He started having accidents about a year and a half ago, but we dealt with it as it wasn't real often. That progressively got worse to the point we had to make sure he was out very frequently in the hopes that we'd get lucky and he'd go outside. To call that situation trying is an understatement.
I work from home permanently so I was taking care of him during the day while my wife/kids were at work and school. There were some very trying times when I'm on a conference call and he's barking. I knew which bark was "SQUIRREL!" vs. "help I've fallen and can't get up". I've rescued him from under chairs, tables, the baker's rack, etc. When he fell, he'd bark for help... but that barking would make him slide backwards to the point he'd eventually slide under something. In the off chance he barked him self into a corner, he could leverage against the 2 walls and get back up on his feet. I grew frustrated with him. I had thoughts that I was ready to make "the call" for a while, but my wife wasn't ready. So I waited for her.
Each time we took him to the vet for these various issues, she gave us the quality of life talk. She left it up to us on interpreting when it was time to make the call - "you'll know". Since he couldn't get up on his own if he happened to be laying on the bare wood floor, we strategically positioned left over carpet from carpeting our basement in his favorite spots so he had traction to get up. This helped, but it slowly declined to the point we were probably picking him up 90% of the time. Once he was up, he could walk OK, but only for a few minutes before he'd tire and his back end would start to droop. He'd soldier on in the back yard - 3/4 squatting while he sniffed around, ate sticks, etc.
About 3 months ago he was struggling to stay on his own (dog) bed - he's a big boy (in his prime he was tall and 85#) and barely fit on the dog beds to begin with. If he slipped around during a dream or something, he'd be halfway off his bed and couldn't get himself back on the bed due to the wood floors. So my wife took our kids' crib mattresses up from the basement and made those Bailey's beds. That was a big help, but that also meant he was spending more time in his bed. Around that time we started to notice him dribbling a few drops of pee when he got up. That luckily was contained to his bed, but that meant we were washing crib sheets daily or mopping the floor around the bed.
This past Saturday my wife came home with dog diapers since his dribbling had progressed to intermittent full bladder emptying. Internally I thought this is getting out of hand, but I supported her decision. On Sunday night we were in bed and she just burst into tears. I knew instantly what she was going to say.... "I'll call Christie tomorrow for Bailey" (Christie is our vet who we've both known since we were 12). My initial reaction was relief which quickly turned into guilt. We talked and cried in bed for 3 hours. We knew it was the right thing to do, but the weight of the decision was really showing itself the more we talked and cried.
I don't know why I wanted to write this next part out.... :(
We took him in last night at 5:00. They quickly met us at the door - they must've been watching for us. We were escorted to a small room that was set up comfortably for the pet and owners. We were given all of the cremation options, to stay during the injections, etc etc. We chose to take his body home with us to bury him in our back yard in his favorite spot. We also wanted to be with him through the end - no way could we leave him to die alone.
Christie came in and talked through the process with us - we were both surprised to hear its essentially an overdose of anesthesia and it would be over in 30sec or less. We gave him a ton of treats and a bag of M&Ms while Christie was talking. He of course slipped on the tile floor and we decided it was time; he was laying on the floor so we laid with him while she gave him the injections. It was peaceful for him, but my god.... the gravity of it all was too much. Laying with him, my face buried in his neck while he went was the most dramatic thing I've ever been through.
Both have been going through the typical weight loss, energy loss, back/hip issues, etc. But they've still 'been all there'. Bailey in particular was struggling more with the back/hip issues to the point the fusing of his back was pinching a nerve that caused him to start losing sensation of when he needed to poop. He started having accidents about a year and a half ago, but we dealt with it as it wasn't real often. That progressively got worse to the point we had to make sure he was out very frequently in the hopes that we'd get lucky and he'd go outside. To call that situation trying is an understatement.
I work from home permanently so I was taking care of him during the day while my wife/kids were at work and school. There were some very trying times when I'm on a conference call and he's barking. I knew which bark was "SQUIRREL!" vs. "help I've fallen and can't get up". I've rescued him from under chairs, tables, the baker's rack, etc. When he fell, he'd bark for help... but that barking would make him slide backwards to the point he'd eventually slide under something. In the off chance he barked him self into a corner, he could leverage against the 2 walls and get back up on his feet. I grew frustrated with him. I had thoughts that I was ready to make "the call" for a while, but my wife wasn't ready. So I waited for her.
Each time we took him to the vet for these various issues, she gave us the quality of life talk. She left it up to us on interpreting when it was time to make the call - "you'll know". Since he couldn't get up on his own if he happened to be laying on the bare wood floor, we strategically positioned left over carpet from carpeting our basement in his favorite spots so he had traction to get up. This helped, but it slowly declined to the point we were probably picking him up 90% of the time. Once he was up, he could walk OK, but only for a few minutes before he'd tire and his back end would start to droop. He'd soldier on in the back yard - 3/4 squatting while he sniffed around, ate sticks, etc.
About 3 months ago he was struggling to stay on his own (dog) bed - he's a big boy (in his prime he was tall and 85#) and barely fit on the dog beds to begin with. If he slipped around during a dream or something, he'd be halfway off his bed and couldn't get himself back on the bed due to the wood floors. So my wife took our kids' crib mattresses up from the basement and made those Bailey's beds. That was a big help, but that also meant he was spending more time in his bed. Around that time we started to notice him dribbling a few drops of pee when he got up. That luckily was contained to his bed, but that meant we were washing crib sheets daily or mopping the floor around the bed.
This past Saturday my wife came home with dog diapers since his dribbling had progressed to intermittent full bladder emptying. Internally I thought this is getting out of hand, but I supported her decision. On Sunday night we were in bed and she just burst into tears. I knew instantly what she was going to say.... "I'll call Christie tomorrow for Bailey" (Christie is our vet who we've both known since we were 12). My initial reaction was relief which quickly turned into guilt. We talked and cried in bed for 3 hours. We knew it was the right thing to do, but the weight of the decision was really showing itself the more we talked and cried.
I don't know why I wanted to write this next part out.... :(
We took him in last night at 5:00. They quickly met us at the door - they must've been watching for us. We were escorted to a small room that was set up comfortably for the pet and owners. We were given all of the cremation options, to stay during the injections, etc etc. We chose to take his body home with us to bury him in our back yard in his favorite spot. We also wanted to be with him through the end - no way could we leave him to die alone.
Christie came in and talked through the process with us - we were both surprised to hear its essentially an overdose of anesthesia and it would be over in 30sec or less. We gave him a ton of treats and a bag of M&Ms while Christie was talking. He of course slipped on the tile floor and we decided it was time; he was laying on the floor so we laid with him while she gave him the injections. It was peaceful for him, but my god.... the gravity of it all was too much. Laying with him, my face buried in his neck while he went was the most dramatic thing I've ever been through.
We brought him home and buried him in his spot; our 9 and 11yr old sons helped. We explained to them the night before - they weren't real sure how to react. They were good through the burial and even asked to see him and gave him one last scratch. I don't think they were super attached to the dogs since the dogs were around prior to either kid being born. Ryder was out there with us as well and sniffed every inch of the box. He was licking the handle cutouts where it was open to the inside of the box. I don't know what he was doing or what it meant, but it was interesting.
Between yesterday and today, I've been pretty down. More down than I ever would've expected over a dog. Making the decision to put him down and then going through with it has been the 2nd hardest thing I've ever done (1st being telling my mom its time to go to Hospice). In some ways, this feels more painful and real than when I lost my parents; and that makes me feel absolutely ridiculous. I'm ashamed to even write it out... However, I've spent some time reflecting on this and think I understand it a little. I don't know, it could be my way of coping....
- Making the call to say "you're going to die at 5:00pm on Monday" is some very heavy stuff. I went through all sorts of "last" thoughts... This was his last breakfast, he's only got 1.5hrs left, etc. Having the end of his life timestamped like that is just something I wasn't prepared for, even though I thought I was ready.
- From Sunday night to Monday afternoon was torture at times given he's got absolutely no idea any of this is planned for him. He went about his normal day eating breakfast, chilllin' in the back yard eating sticks, rocks, bark straight off the tree (seriously, WTF Bailey ).
- The process was so much more intimate when he passed; we were there cuddled up with him on the floor as he went to sleep. We immediately got to bury him as a family. When my parents, grandparents, etc passed it had this sanitized feeling to it. The body is whisked away to be processed by various people and then you get to see this modified version of them a week+ later. You're almost insulated from their death compared to a pet. I don't know how else to put it into words.
RIP Bailey https://scontent.fphl2-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/33329562_956874497801070_381691377068539904_n.jpg?_nc_cat=0&oh=72c99179451215b842bf9228b572393a&oe=5BC17907
I think it's cool your kids helped you bury her. Circle of life and such. I only recall seeing my dad cry twice in my entire life. One was the day his mother passed away. The other was the day he and I (around age 12 I think) buried our dog in our back yard. 
