Just wanted to come on tonight and seek some support after having put my dog to sleep this weekend. It happened Friday and I'm doing much better now, but I still feel sad this is always a good place for an outpouring of much-needed support.
Max was 11.5 years old and I had him since he was a puppy. He was a hooligan his whole life - I won't even try to disguise that. But he was off the charts when it comes to loyalty and devotion and for that I have to praise him. He was my first dog and I bonded with him so much more than I thought possible; he showed me what it would be like to be attached to a child when I finally had one 9 years later.
I couldn't begin to list all the things he destroyed, any more than I could list all the walks and hikes he inspired me to take and all the calories I burned trying to meet his need for exercise, or quantify how comforting it was to have him sleeping near me when my husband was in the Navy and out to sea.
Max began going crazy in the last 6-8 months, destroying the house far more than he ever had, with an intensity he never showed. He broke two dog crates and hurt himself in the process. I finally stopped being in denial about his quality of life this week and took him in to the vet who said his actions were a symptom of brain disease (possibly tumor) and said he would have agreed to euthanize him the second time he broke out of a crate and embarked on a path of destruction. He also was suffering from sciatica and incontinence.
I'm not totally at peace with the decision. For a dog, who is totally loyal and could probably live out another two years in the state he was in, I feel like it was a betrayal of his devotion to me to put him to sleep. But I know he wasn't happy and didn't have a good quality of life.
I have a lot of regrets about his life. I wish I could have been present for him a lot more - as he would have happily sat by my side every minute of his life if given the opportunity. But that just wasn't an option for me as I need to work and none of my jobs ever allowed it.
Here's to Max. He was a hooligan, a loving companion, and a devoted friend. I wish I could have done more for him, but I know he had a good life and a lot of love while he was here. I wish it didn't have to end the way it did, but I'm happy he's no longer in any physical or emotional pain.
I would welcome any advice about helping a two year old understand the permanence of a dog not coming home again (he seems to be starting to grasp it) or tips on how to help a second dog cope with the loss of her primary companion. I'm stepping up the exercise she gets and the mental stimulation as well, but would love more tips.
Max was 11.5 years old and I had him since he was a puppy. He was a hooligan his whole life - I won't even try to disguise that. But he was off the charts when it comes to loyalty and devotion and for that I have to praise him. He was my first dog and I bonded with him so much more than I thought possible; he showed me what it would be like to be attached to a child when I finally had one 9 years later.
I couldn't begin to list all the things he destroyed, any more than I could list all the walks and hikes he inspired me to take and all the calories I burned trying to meet his need for exercise, or quantify how comforting it was to have him sleeping near me when my husband was in the Navy and out to sea.
Max began going crazy in the last 6-8 months, destroying the house far more than he ever had, with an intensity he never showed. He broke two dog crates and hurt himself in the process. I finally stopped being in denial about his quality of life this week and took him in to the vet who said his actions were a symptom of brain disease (possibly tumor) and said he would have agreed to euthanize him the second time he broke out of a crate and embarked on a path of destruction. He also was suffering from sciatica and incontinence.
I'm not totally at peace with the decision. For a dog, who is totally loyal and could probably live out another two years in the state he was in, I feel like it was a betrayal of his devotion to me to put him to sleep. But I know he wasn't happy and didn't have a good quality of life.
I have a lot of regrets about his life. I wish I could have been present for him a lot more - as he would have happily sat by my side every minute of his life if given the opportunity. But that just wasn't an option for me as I need to work and none of my jobs ever allowed it.
Here's to Max. He was a hooligan, a loving companion, and a devoted friend. I wish I could have done more for him, but I know he had a good life and a lot of love while he was here. I wish it didn't have to end the way it did, but I'm happy he's no longer in any physical or emotional pain.
I would welcome any advice about helping a two year old understand the permanence of a dog not coming home again (he seems to be starting to grasp it) or tips on how to help a second dog cope with the loss of her primary companion. I'm stepping up the exercise she gets and the mental stimulation as well, but would love more tips.
