My dog fell ill and he went downhill suddenly. He was sick two Friday's ago when I was on vacation, then sent home with some meds. Things got worse, the first vet misdiagnosed everything (so frustrated with them!!), long story short, he went to the hospital on Saturday morning and on Sunday he was just a disaster. I begged the hospital to let me see the dog, the vet wasn't going to do it at first, but somehow he acquiesed. I think he probably re-arranged his entire Sunday just so I could be there with my pet--I am truly touched by his kindess of the hospital staff-- I have never seen a god in such a way before and it was awful. He was a good dog, 13 years old and had never really been sick before.
I had to put him down on Sunday and the vet that re-arranged his schedule was nice enough to let me know my decision was the best way--he waited for me to bring it up--we did it there and then and I held the dog as he was died. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do in my entire life and I am heartbroken in a way I have never known.
I feel guilty--wish I were a better owner when he was alive-- it was the classic story of girl gets pet as a teenager, goes off to college, and dog stays at the family house while girl goes out to live her life and move in with her fiance. The dog had visits to my fiance's house where I live and I would visit him as well, but not as often as I should. Everyone always knew he was my dog and he always loved being by my side. No matter how long it had been since I'd seen him last he'd come to greet me at the door--or come to lick my face and play--even as he got old and gray. That dog got me through some terrible experiences in my life and I wish I could have realized how special he truly was when he was alive.
On the day I put him down, I was worried he couldn't recognize me, that's how badly it all had turned. The vet said it was the first time the dog picked his head up all day. The dog tried to stand up when I came to see him, probably to greet me in our customary way--but his legs wobbled left and right and he fell down. He was drooling all over himself, his eyes were a mess. And I knew it was time. I almost think weirdly that the dog held on just for me, just to say goodbye, because when the vet at the hospital called and said he might not live through his tests (wich were scheduled for Monday) I begged to see that dog.
He died with his head on my lap looking at me, while I held him. He went peacefully with no fear and I know it was better that way. I remember feeling so sorry that the dog would not close his eyes, that maybe he couldn't close his eyes and I felt so sad that he died with his eyes open. When I told my mom how haunted I was by this she said the dog wanted me to be the last thing he saw because he loved me so much.
I'm so sad and heartbroken--I never had a pet before and never knew how much they meant to their owners. To anyone else that has lost one on this site, I feel for you. And I'm really hoping all dogs do go to heaven because my dog deserved to.