Stoic doesn't live here.

He wouldn't say it outright. Not with Sprite sitting right there and "examining" her own rest friend, a puppy named Rosebud.

I couldn't understand it at first. We both talked around the elephant, trying to keep it as light as possible for the "I'm almost six years old"'s ears, but the more I asked, the more his answers became clear.

That little fatty tumor that had been sitting so quietly on her side for so many years, dismissed as "something beagles get, don't worry about it", had become active and spread into her lymph nodes. Sometime over the last two days, it began to feed histamines into other areas until they became noticable in the one bulge I spotted on her belly this morning after picking Blue and Harry up from the boarders.

I had called the vet and got her an appointment for early afternoon and then called the pet hotel to ask if anything had happened this weekend. Surely, another dog must have caused this. Or Blue had fallen. Anything of the outside variety. A bad bug bite? Hernia?

No, nothing, they said. Blue was great. The only time she made any noise was when they took Harry out without her.

I thought back to the first moments when I had brought Blue in to be checked, babbling at random about that stupid fatty tumor, her epilepsy, her heart murmur. Other than being incontinent over the last few months, the only issue I had noticed was that her lower belly had become loose on Friday evening. Maybe her bladder was dropping, maybe that was why she was having accidents ten minutes after going outside. Old age, right? I should expect this with a twelve year old dog.

The vet said one had nothing to do with the other. What I had seen on Friday was the precursor to today's issue.

By the time he inspected her, the one mass was now two. She yelped in pain when he lifted her to the table for a better look.

They brought her back to run a test and I could hear her howl from the exam room where we sat. Sprite grasped my hand. "That was Blue!"

"Yes, they're running a test to see what's wrong. Sometimes, it has to hurt to get better."

He came back minutes later with an answer. It was quick. So quick. That had to be good news.

The tumor was very aggressive. Her body was filling with histamines. They could give her something to stop the pain, but she would go into shock before long. She was having a reaction like an allergy patient would have to a bee sting or peanut butter. She would continue to swell up until her body couldn't take it anymore.

This was not going to stop with or without our intervention.

I asked about time. He shook his head and advised they could medicate her to lift the pain, but she only had about 24 hours at the most if we took her home. Sprite having to see her decline, Harry having to see her decline, I wouldn't be able to handle seeing her decline. Stoic doesn't live in my heart. I would crumble immediately.

John came to the office to hear it himself and we both tried to explain it to Sprite as Blue sat quietly by us.

We would be honest with her about it. We had to. We talked about Blue going to sleep and not waking up. We talked about there being no more pain. We talked about Blue being so sick, this was the best way to help her stop hurting.

I cried. I couldn't hold it together. She watched me cry, her only response being, "but I want two dogs."

She didn't understand.

She gamely waved goodbye to Blue and gave her a last pat on the head, this dog who had loved her and had been loved so heavily by her since the day she could first grab onto Blue's soft fur.

I rubbed her under her jowls, felt her impossibly long ears. I couldn't be there for the last minutes. I couldn't do it as a sixteen year old when we had to say goodbye to our old dog Daisy. I couldn't do it now, even though I felt like I was deserting her.

We walked out, two hours to the dot had passed since we walked in with our silently sick dog.

Sprite and I entered the house, releasing Harry from his crate. I lost my composure once more as he raced through the house, looking for Blue, maybe she had wormed her way under the bed without him. We let him out, watching him bark his way around the yard, calling out for her.

He wouldn't touch his dinner, waiting for Blue to come try to stake her claim first, waiting to growl at her, because that's what they did twice a day. It was their routine. Only when the hunger got to be too much did he relinquish his post and eat.

It had happened too quickly. The words kept coming back to me, the written words "poor prognosis" and "euthanasia" the vet had scribbled on a sheet of paper to keep those epiphets away from young innocent ears. Had we made the right decision?

Our resolve not to play God, something we had discussed a while ago, were we playing God now by signing that paper to end her life?

My mom's best friend explained it to me in a phone call later that evening, "you're not ending her life, you're ending her pain. You did her a favor."

We let Sprite into our bed as we settled down for the night. She cuddled close to me. "Blue is at the vet's."

Her earlier comment to John, "Blue will be at the vet's forever" rang in my ears.

"Honey, Blue won't stay at the vet's." The tears came again.

I am so bad at this.

"Where will she go?"

Just get it over with, Jen. "Sprite, Blue passed away today."

"Why?"

"Because she was sick. She had an owie that hurt too much."

"They didn't fix her owie?"

"They couldn't."

"So will she come back?"

I hugged her tighter. "No. When I say she passed away, what it means is she died."

"Blue's dead?"

"Yes."

We both grew silent for a while before I heard her voice again.

"Does Harry know she passed away?"

"I'm not sure. I do know he misses her though."

"So do I."

"Me too."

"She's a good dog."

"Yes, she is."

 

 

 

Comments

[Jan]

Damn it, girl - you made me cry. Again.

Your Mom's friend is absolutely right - you didn't end her life, you ended her pain. It would have been horrible for her otherwise.

I am so, so sorry.

[Michele]

I am so sorry to hear about Blue.

We went through this with Tripper so I understand your pain and how much your second guess your decision. You did the right thing. Even though it is hard to explain to a 6 year old and her doggie friend.

[VandyJ]

What got me was the description of Harry looking for Blue. Guiness looked for Tascha for days after we had to put her to sleep. Amazing the impact these small furry creatures have on our lives.
My thought are with you all.

[Alaina]

And now I'm crying, too. Oh I am so so sorry. Please give Sprite an extra hug from us, too, and I'll send one to you and John as well. That's such a tough concept for someone so young to grasp. I don't look forward to that day. Learning about death and loss is just so hard, and you want to protect your little one from it at all cost. Sending prayers to you all.

[amy]

It took me longer than usual to type this because my eyes keep welling up and making me hit the wrong keys. It's terrible that Blue is gone but at least she got to live it up with you guys for 12 years, right? She couldn't have had a better family. My thoughts are with you guys.

[AimeeWrites]

I'm so, so sorry, Jen. It's one of the hardest things we ever have to do. xoxo

[Rachel]

Too fast, so sad, so sorry :( David and I have only been through it once, but you don't forget.

[Stacy Uncorked]

I'm sitting here bawling. But I did start laughing through my tears when I got to: "but I want two dogs." :) I'm so so sorry about Blue - and I agree with both your mom's friend and Jan, you didn't end her life, you ended her pain.

I can totally empathize - my bestest buddy Elvis was 13 when he started getting odd lumps - and since dogs are so smart, just days before we were scheduled to visit a vet he was trying to run away for the first time in all 13 years when he got tagged by a car. I think he was trying to go somewhere else to die so we wouldn't see that he was sick.

His hip was broken, and because I didn't want to hurt him (or me, since he was 45 lbs and I already had trouble picking him up off the road out front and carrying him out back to safety - he bit me, but it was a reactionary bite to me apparently setting him down with weight to his broken hip side...so trying to put him in the car would have not been a pretty sight) I had to call an emergency mobile vet - who pretty much had the same resulting prognosis and I had to make a decision to let him go over that Rainbow Bridge. I still miss him. Princess Nagger, on the other hand - who was 5 going on 6 when we lost Elvis - sort of remembers him but certainly not as much as I do.

Tell Sprite that Elvis is hanging out with Blue and they'll have tons of fun together. :) ((HUGZ!!))

[Becca]

Now I am sitting at my desk at work fighting back the tears. So much love and hugs for all of you.

[Erin]

xoxoxo
I'm so so sorry.

[Weekend Cowgirl]

I am so sorry for your family. We had to do the same thing last fall for our 17 year old black lab. It pierces the heart. Lost my sweet donkey and one goat last month and the feeling is the same... but, you will have lots of pictures and sweet memories which really helps...

[Jenny]

I am so sorry that you miss Blue. She was well-loved, and now she has no more pain. Dallin is just a bit older than Sprite, he still talks about and misses his grandma's dog, Chili. And that was over a year ago. I hope in time Harry and all of you will heal from your pain of missing her. Sending hugs from Arizona.

[Meli]

I'm so very sorry for your family.
xoxo