Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Chancie...

This morning my beloved old Sweaterdog, Chance, passed away. I took her to the vet and he agreed that at this point euthanasia was the kindest option for Chancie. I paid extra for sedation prior to the injection, so she could fall asleep and pass in her peaceful sleep.

She fell asleep in my arms, her little faced squished under my chin. It took about ten minutes. She was calm and comfortable, wrapped in her blanket, snuggling with me. When she was asleep, the vet gave her the euthanasia, and she was gone within a few seconds. There was no pain, no twitching, none of the awful things I have seen dogs do as they die... Only peaceful rest.

I have never had to put a dog of mine to sleep. It was horrific, and I did not even realize how truly devastated I was until afterward. All I can think of, all I can see in my mind, is her sweet, trusting eyes... She trusted me... And I basically killed her. I did it for good reasons,but I caused her death, regardless.

No, she had no hope of being pain free, and she would not have gotten any younger... But the thought that I was the one holding her as she died horrifies me.

I drove home with my hand on her still warm body... I scratched her ears and cried, and told her how sorry I was. I carried her out of the car, and Jason said his goodbyes...

I can't think about when we put her in the hole in the cold ground, or when we covered her over with rocks so nothing will dig her up. Every time I walk past her grave, my throat closes up and I want to curl up in a ball with her down there.

I just want to see her sweet little curled up self asleep on one of the couches, snoring. The living room looks desolate and empty without her. Her presence filled our home, now it's empty and lonely.

I want to feel good about ending her pain... I just can't.

7 comments:

Princess Fiona (according to my husband) said...

My heart is breaking for you. RIP Chancie.

Melly said...

I really, really hate this for you. I'm so sorry you had to do that. If you need me, give me a call, I'm here for ya.

horsesandhounds said...

I'm so sorry for your loss. It is never easy... What you did was the kindest thing for her and don't feel badly about her dying in your arms. She was where she was happiest and felt safe, snuggled up with you. May all dogs be so lucky as to have an owner who cares that much.

Laura in L.A. said...

Honey, you did absolutely the right thing, and you did it in the best possible way. Death is a part of life, so don't let your sadness overwhelm you. You gave your dog a wonderful life, and you unselfishly helped her into a better place at the end of her life. I am so proud of you for being strong enough to do right by your dog.

God always needs good dogs. :):) Chancie's home, and you will meet her again.

Love, Laura

colorisnteverything said...

RIP, Chancie. She sounds so much like our old Princess dog. She was such a sweetheart. Always snoring upside down on the couch.

I am proud of you for the decision you made, Squish. It was not easy. It was really hard, I am sure.

May she rest in peace and see you again over the rainbow bridge.

Event Girl said...

I wanted to send my prayers + thoughts of sympathy your way. I have tears welling up in my eyes, so I can only imagine what the drive home was like for you.

Chancie was truly a blessing, and in time you will smile when you walk past the spot you laid her to rest.

I'm sorry for your sorrow - but don't beat yourself up. You did the right thing, and put down an animal that was in pain, or fast approaching.
I have had to do the same in the past with my first pet (Pepper), and I cannot say I still don't feel a bit of guilt from time to time.
But mostly, I smile when I think of her.

OKfine said...

I am so sorry for your loss. I too have had to have dogs put to sleep. As hard as it is to be with them at the end, I think it's much more important to be there with them. I know my voice and hand touching them was the last thing they heard and felt. It would be too traumatic for them to be with strangers.
I too have felt guilt With time comes the knowledge that we did the right thing, even though our hearts are breaking.