I feel guilty for being sad already, and Duke is still with us.
Duke turns 14 in the next few days, and although I try to deny it or explain away the changes, I can see him slowing down. And it makes me terribly sad. He doesn't run as much as he used to, he's a little slow to get up, harder to wake up from his sleep, hard of hearing, etc. As much as I want to believe that our boy will always be with us, that he will always be our young pup, the fact is that he's getting very old and our time with him is drawing short. How in the world am I going to deal with losing him?
So the worst part is that I'm letting the sadness of the FUTURE event of losing him affect me. I'm not sure that's a good thing. It's kind of like going to visit family for three days and moping around the first day because you know you have to leave in two days. Can Duke detect my sentimentality? Is it possible that I could be affecting how quickly he is growing old because he can sense that I see him growing old? I hate that I treat him differently because I know that I'll have to say goodbye to him in the future.
I was telling Jennifer the other day that I've taken more pictures of Duke in the past year than I did in the previous five years combined. Every time I look at him I want to take his picture, because I don't want to let him go. Maybe it's selfish, because I'm scared that if he passes and I don't have many pictures of him then I'll be guilt-ridden for the rest of my life. I find myself on the floor a lot more, playing with Duke, and TRYING to snuggle with him (he has always hated snuggling; must be claustrophobic).
We absolutely love our pets. They have been our children and we love them like people love their kids. The idea of seeing either one of them suffer is almost unbearable. Both of our pets (Duke and Koshi) are old now, and there are challenges that go along with that. I know it sounds petty, but every trip to the vet has the potential to become a moral dilemma. How much money do you spend to maintain the life of an aging pet? According to the vet, our Koshi is in the early stages of kidney failure. She's 15 years old and has had a good life. She's not suffering at the moment, and monthly medication and a science diet, although more expensive than before, is reasonable. But how do you identify the point where her quality of life is suffering to the point where the expense is no longer worth it? Gosh, even talking about it makes me feel like a horrible person. It feels like putting a price limit on the life of my Koshi. It's certainly more complicated than that, and I'm not sure that I'm even verbalizing it well enough to understand.
When we left California we decided to put down Andie, our little Bichon that Jennifer saved from the street in Spain. She was very old, sickly, and generally did not have a good life. She was suffering a lot, and we decided it was time. I would love to say that from that day on Jennifer and I have been sure that we made the right decision, but how would we know that? I (and I suspect Jennifer does too) occasionally wonder about whether or not it was too soon. Did we take her life too early? I can't even begin to explain how painful it is to have that internal debate. It's excruciating. And we'll probably have to face two more similar decisions in the next few years. I'm dreading it. Putting little Andie down was the hardest thing that I've ever done in my life, no kidding. Sometimes I selfishly hope that when the time comes that Koshi and Duke both will simply go to sleep at night and not wake up... just pass peacefully on from this life. That's why I find myself lying on the floor beside Duke's bed each night, hugging and kissing him and telling him how much I love him.
Ultimately, I'm scared of life without Duke and Koshi. I don't want to let them go. Maybe my thoughts about reaching that point now is my mind's way of trying to mentally prepare me for it so that it doesn't destroy me when the time comes. But at the same time I know I'll never be totally prepared for it.
Awwww. I know how you feel. My cat Jackie passed a few years ago, and though she did suffer a bit her last few days, I knew she HATED going to the vet and couldn't stand the thought of her last experience being one she couldn't stand. She luckily, passed away very quietly after going to sleep one night on a makeshift bed that I had prepared for her (I knew the time was coming quickly). John and I dozed off too, and when we woke up, she was gone. My Gus (well over 12 yrs old) is hyperthyroid and his condition is pretty controlled through medication and diet, but I know too that any trip to the vet could mean a serious outlay of cash as he's aging. It's a terrible decision when it comes....
ReplyDeleteMy childhood dog Sandy died in 2000, 13 years after we rescued him from our neighbors who had neglected him for 2 years, poor thing. He was my dad's dog through and through, and while I've never in my life seen my dad cry, nor even lose his composure, my mom told me that my dad cried almost every morning for about 6 months after Sandy died. :( I know he still misses him so much. And the more years you're fortunate enough to have them, the more difficult it is when you lose them. :sigh: Just love on him while you can.
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