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7-13-01 - 3:19 p.m.

I was just reading Smartie's diary (one of my daily reads along with another recently added journal, which I've noticed has suddenly become password-protected. Hmm) and her first paragraph was about how much she misses her dog.

I miss mine, too! Reading that made me realize how much I miss her. She had some liver problems and some strange and rare muscle-deteriorating disease, was losing so much weight that her skin was slack on her bones, and was in so much pain she could hardly wag her tail, so we had her put down. My vet said there were things we could have done, but there was no guarantee she'd make it, and even if she did she'd have to live through the extreme pain of the treatment first. So we let her go the easiest way.

And it was easy. It was horrifically easy. I just remember Sharon taking me out of school last September 23rd, ashen-faced and more solemn than I'd seen her in a long time. I remember my thought process as I grabbed my things and made my way to the office: "Please don't let it be Matilda, please let me just have a doctor's appointment I forgot about..." but I knew it had to be something bad about my puppy, because I remembered Sharon telling me she was going to take Tildy to the vet for another check-up on her condition. When I finally made it to the office, I forced a polite smile on my face and asked what was going on. Sharon took my hand and Kellie soon appeared in the office, then Ricky. It was then that I knew. I just knew.

So we drove the the vet's office, Kellie and Ricky in tears, me in complete shock, and when we we got there and she saw me (she was my dog, mind you) she smiled her huge doggy smile and wagged her tail and tried to get up to rush over, but couldn't. So I ran to her, collapsed, threw my arms around her and started crying harder than I'd cried in a looooong time.

And when it came time for Dr. Shatila to administer the shots, her back leg was shaved, and a little syringe filled with bright pink liquid soon emptied itself into her. It was awful. Suddenly her entire body went rigid, her head slumped onto the table, and she was gone. It was so fast and so painless and so terrible, I can't even really describe it. The only true friend I ever had, the one creature who had brought me more happiness than any other in this world, suddenly...gone.

So, Smartie, believe me when I say I understand. I remember I had to take my kitty to the vet for her annual shots, and as I was driving there my eyes filled with tears, and I broke down in the examination room, remembering the last time I'd been there.

And you know what the worst part is? This: I was listening to Dr. Dog's radio show (animal question & answer thing) and someone called and told him that she had owned a dog and a cat. The dog had moved in first, and the cat had adopted many of the dog's traits (much like my dog and cat) but since the dog had been put to sleep, the cat had come every day to wait at the door, and she had wondered why. Dr. Dog told her that when an animal's companion animal dies, as with the dog and the cat, the cat (or other animal) doesn't understand, and so it will wait at the door for its friend, not knowing that the friend isn't going to be returning. That just sucks.

Yah, so that's my horribly depresssing entry for today.

 

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