I've been around animals all of my life. I've put more than my share of animals down. I know when it's time. I'm not one to prolong the suffering of an animal for my own benefit.
I'm also the mother of an 8 1/2 year old son.
In less than an hour, I'll be putting our dog down. I've had "HQ" for about 12 years, ever since he was tied to a "No Stopping or Standing Any Time" sign in front of headquarters as a puppy. I brought him home and named him "HQ," because naming him after the sign was a bit of a mouthful.
His hind legs have gotten so bad that they hardly bend anymore. There's no flexion. Anti-inflammatories are no longer effective. His left hind leg swings and crosses when he's standing. He can barely make it up two steps. He falls down if he goes around a corner too fast. His kidneys seem to be on the way out. Yesterday, while I was cooking, he peed while walking through the kitchen.
Eric was heartbroken and hysterical when my mother's dog died. He was about 6 at the time. I told him the truth about the dog's death when he got home from school. It was the same when each guinea pig died, and when his favorite chicken died. But, Eric has known "HQ" since the day he was born. True, the dog annoys him to no end, has growled at him when he's come into our bedroom while the dog is sleeping, and he's asked "When is 'HQ' going to die so we can get a puppy?" I mentioned putting the dog down before, and was told "You hate animals! You just want to kill him!"
This will be the first time I haven't had a body to show my son. Sounds gruesome, doesn't it? I'm going to have the dog cremated. Right now, we just can't bury him here. When we're able to get the backhoe out there, I'll bury his ashes with my other dog, cat, and horse.
How do I deal with this when my son gets home from school today?
I'm also the mother of an 8 1/2 year old son.
In less than an hour, I'll be putting our dog down. I've had "HQ" for about 12 years, ever since he was tied to a "No Stopping or Standing Any Time" sign in front of headquarters as a puppy. I brought him home and named him "HQ," because naming him after the sign was a bit of a mouthful.
His hind legs have gotten so bad that they hardly bend anymore. There's no flexion. Anti-inflammatories are no longer effective. His left hind leg swings and crosses when he's standing. He can barely make it up two steps. He falls down if he goes around a corner too fast. His kidneys seem to be on the way out. Yesterday, while I was cooking, he peed while walking through the kitchen.
Eric was heartbroken and hysterical when my mother's dog died. He was about 6 at the time. I told him the truth about the dog's death when he got home from school. It was the same when each guinea pig died, and when his favorite chicken died. But, Eric has known "HQ" since the day he was born. True, the dog annoys him to no end, has growled at him when he's come into our bedroom while the dog is sleeping, and he's asked "When is 'HQ' going to die so we can get a puppy?" I mentioned putting the dog down before, and was told "You hate animals! You just want to kill him!"
This will be the first time I haven't had a body to show my son. Sounds gruesome, doesn't it? I'm going to have the dog cremated. Right now, we just can't bury him here. When we're able to get the backhoe out there, I'll bury his ashes with my other dog, cat, and horse.
How do I deal with this when my son gets home from school today?
