Thursday, June 14, 2007

. . . There Is a Dark Cloud

Come on. You knew this was coming. If you have any sort of sense of foreboding, you knew.

On Monday, I put Goober to sleep. I put Goober down. Those are very nice, acceptable ways of saying that I killed her. Yes, I know all the reasons it was ok. I know why I decided to do it when I did.

The last time I went to the vet with her, she told me I would know when the time was right. What a frigging weight to have on your shoulders.

On Sunday morning, trying to jump up onto my bed, Goober tore something in her leg, and began to bleed profusely. I applied pressure and was able to eventually stop the bleeding. But here is the problem: She never cried. She. Never. Cried.

You know that hurt her. No animal bleeds that much without pain. Yet there was not a single yelp. And that made me realize that she has an incredibly high threshold for pain. That just because she does not cry, does not mean she is not in pain. (A lot of double negatives there; did ya follow?) And since I have had my new pup--about a week--Goober cries a lot if the puppy jumps on top of her. So I am thinking that she has been in pain for some time but (like my mom) holds it in. But with the pup jumping on her, she just couldn't keep it in anymore.

It has been up to me this whole time about when to put her down. I though I would keep her alive as long as she didn't seem to be in pain. But now. But now, if she doesn't cry when she is in pain, how do I know? She is keeping up a brave front for me. I know she is in more pain than she lets on, because of the tear in her leg, and because of the yelping from the pup. She has also been having trouble breathing of late. Which is another sign the doc said I would see near the end.

So I did what had to happen. I called everyone that loved her. I called Rose, I called my dad and mom, my sisters. On Sunday, Goober sat on the love seat in my living room and received all these visitors with the grace with which she has done everything in her life.

On Monday morning, I called the vet and made the appointment. Kristy went with me. Kristy is the other "strong" person in my family. I don't know how I would get through things without her. We got there with Goober and Ginny walking in on leashes. I told the receptionist my last name, and she instantly knew what I was there for.

I then picked up Ginny. The receptionist became quite alarmed. I could see in her face the thought process that I was here to put to sleep a little puppy. Of course, I immediately corrected her by asking if she would look after my puppy while we had our appointment with Goober.

I waited an appropriate amount of time before pointing this out to my sister. It was funny in a grotesque way, but when you live with death constantly there, you learn to laugh at the grotesque.

When they gave her the shot, Goober went down quickly. I think she was ready. The last day, she had walked to all her favorite spots and scented them. She asked for rides in the car. (She never had before.) She gave me lots of kisses on my face. (Again, she never had before.)

I went home and cried. A lot. My dad called and Whitney called. Rachel came over that night and I held it together for them. I knew they were there to comfort me, but still, my WASP instinct was to hold it together. The next day, I resumed crying. I called the doctor. She prescribed a sedative. I took it.

I've been getting through each day. I know I am overreacting partly because of my mom's sickness, and partly because the thing with dogs that people who don't own them never get is: They are family.

Goodbye, Goober. Goodbye, my pup.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Oh Tina! So sorry about Goober.

This post has reduced me to tears. Made me think of my pup that grew up with me from 9 months to 16.

Hugs, Tina.

dan said...

They are a member of the family. Sometimes, peace is all that you can do for them.

Coming from a police dog family, I've seen more than my share. And it's never easier.

Things are better for Goober, that's all you can know. I hope that's enough.