I walked around the corner to the hallway, still calling his name to wake him up. I saw him laying in the entry to the den, eyes lit up, ears up, panting, looking so relieved I was finally home. I saw the piece of poo laying behind him and assumed, as has happened before, that he realized he was about to go in the house and took off for the hall to get outside (not that he could get outside when no one was home), but instead fell and couldn’t get himself up on the slippery hardwood floors.
About a couple of weeks before, I had found him in the same position in front of the front door. I managed to get a rug underneath him and then helped him up. He was standing and jumping down the stairs and getting up and down on his own right away.
This time, even with a rug, I couldn’t get him to stay up on his own. He had also peed. He never peed in the house.
I tried and tried and tried to get him to just stand without falling down, but I couldn’t get him to stand still to catch his balance. At this point, my heart was sinking because I knew.
Matt got home about 25 minutes later. He was able to get Murray up and outside and walking. I was on the phone with the vet at this point and was thinking that he might be okay, since he was walking. But then he tried to go poo again and he couldn’t hold his hips right, I had to help him.
But I still thought that he just needed to get his strength back. He was eating and seemed interested in things and wanted to do things.
But he kept falling down and could not get himself back up.
I emailed the vet and said we would be bringing him in the next morning. I didn’t say it was time, but I knew.
I brought his bed into the den and got him to lay down on it. We brought water in there and fed him his goober treats. We placed his Pig “duck” next to him and he licked him as he always did. We tried to watch The Simpsons and have a normal night because, maybe he would be better by morning after taking his pills and relaxing.
But as the night wore on, Matt and I just kind of looked at each other and knew. What could we do? If a dog can’t get up anymore, what can you do? I always thought when it would be his time to go that he would give me a look or that he would be vacant and distant and want nothing to do with anything. But his mind was there. He was sharp. He wanted to give me kisses. That’s what made it so hard.
He was obviously in pain. I slept on the couch next to him and all night long woke up to him panting heavily and crying. The next morning he was still unable to get up on his own.
Matt managed to get him outside for one last backyard walk. The vet called and I told them that I think it’s time.
We got him into the car and I crawled into the backseat with him with visions in my head of him curling up in my lap and me kissing him on the forehead the whole ride.
Instead he crawled in with his bottom facing me and then pooped. He was generally kind of gross.
I think the thing I’m having the hardest time with is when we got to the vet, they put us in a room and Murray was up and wandering. The vet came in and she asked how he was and if he’s eating and I said yes, his upper half is normal. He’s eating and interested in things but his bottom half has quit. She said, “Oh!” like maybe he’s not that bad. But I turned to her and said, “No, it’s time.” I never gave her a chance to give us all of the options. Maybe there was something we could have done. Maybe I was just too tired.
I’m sure she just said that because back in June, when we were thisclose to putting him down after he had a particularly bad day, I wouldn’t let her and asked to take him home for one last day and then he got better. I’m sure she just didn’t want to jump to conclusions.
But that’s what killed me. He did get better. Maybe he could have gotten better again.
But I was just too tired.
Matt assures me it was time and we did the right thing and he wouldn’t have let it happen no matter how tired I was if he didn’t think it was time.
I just wish I could be certain.
Instead, I’m sitting here at work on the anniversary of his last day and doing what I can to hold it together. Being sick has made crying and grieving physically painful. My nose will have started to clear and I’ll start to cry and it clogs back up and makes it impossible to breathe and gives me an automatic headache.
So, as I said I would, here’s 25 Songs That Play At Work While I’m Sick. I think I had said I would make this a light-hearted post when I did this. But, oh well. It also doesn’t help that it’s like my iPod knows and mostly plays the darkest and saddest songs.
- “Them” – Mimicking Birds
- “Daisy and Prudence” – Erin McKeown
- “Come Talk to Me” – Peter Gabriel
- “Splishy Splashy” – Lisa Hannigan
- “USA Up All Nite” – Middlepicker
- “Record Collector” – Lissie
- “Soul vs. Meat” – Birds of Virginia
- “Great Heron Gates” – Earlimart
- “Me and You Cherry Red” – Vampire Hands
- “Between the Bars” – Elliott Smith
- “The Water” – Haley Bonar
- “Black Door” – Pink Mink
- “Ask” – The Smiths
- “New Kanada” – Solid Gold
- “Spanish Bombs” – The Clash
- “Us” – Haley Bonar
- “Halah” – Mazzy Star
- “Doubt” – Wye Oak
- “Still Can’t” – The Cranberries
- “Railroad Man” – The Eels
- “Worthy of Your Esteem” – Hayden
- “Booby Prize” – Pink Mink
- “Sun Don’t Shine” – Haley Bonar
- “Astronaut” – Amanda Palmer
- “Wake Up Your Saints” – The National
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