Sometimes love means letting go. How I overcame denial to bid my dog a final farewell.
Deciding when it’s time to say your final goodbye to your pet is never easy. People often say, “you’ll know.” But when you’re in the throes of the grief, pain and the selfish wanting for more time, it’s hard to be rational because I need more time. I’m not ready.
The impending death of my beloved yellow Labrador, Bogart, was sooner than I let myself believe. I wanted to squeeze more life out of the once rambunctious, future guide dog puppy I picked up in January 2012. I wanted him to meet my future husband. Snuggle with my future children. Become the oldest living Labrador on record. He achieved none of those things.
I knew losing him was going to hit hard, so I prearranged some time off for when it happened. On a Monday a few weeks later, I informed some co-workers of the plan, adding that it probably wouldn’t be for a couple more weeks. I have never been more wrong in my life.
That night, while unsuccessfully holding back tears as I sat across from my parents at dinner, I stared at the dog that had been by my side for more than a decade. I realized the time was much sooner.
The next morning, I plopped myself in my work-from-home setup in the sunroom in a spot directly in Bogart’s eye line. Typically, he was happy as long as he could see me. But not this day. He barked and barked and barked until I closed the 10-foot gap to give him some love before returning to my workstation. Rinse and repeat.
Eventually, I heard what Bogart was telling me: It was time.
So what did I do next? I cried.
I had hours, not weeks, to say goodbye.
My dad made phone calls to Bogart’s vet and to an in-home pet euthanasia service a neighbor recommended to see which option would best serve us. Meanwhile, I informed family and close friends of the news.
I put on his red bow tie and my parents and I sat around him. We spent every last second of those last few hours with him as we could, giving and getting as much love as possible. Thanking him for all the joy he brought to our lives. Inhaling the comforting Frito scent of his paws. Apologizing for every complaint about how much he shed in the hot Georgia summers.
He hadn’t eaten much in his last few days. Regardless of the venison, chicken or hamburger that was prepared just for him. The one thing he happily ate was his favorite food: peanut butter. So we opened his jar and gave him free rein. He happily obliged.
Eventually, he was content. He lay back, snuggling his head in my lap.
Meeting people was Bogart’s third favorite thing to do, after eating and sleeping. He curiously perked up to say hello to the three-person team that arrived from Sweet Dreams for the in-house euthanasia and let them love on him. Once he was pleased enough to meet them, he laid his head in my lap for a final time, where he stayed as he greeted death like an old friend.
Pet euthanasia: At home or at the vet?
As I watched my dog deteriorate during his final few weeks, I secretly hoped I’d walk outside to check on him and find he had passed peacefully while lying in the sunshine in his favorite spot in the yard.
I didn’t want to have to make the decision. But I had to. The easier decision to make was: do I do it at home or at the vet?
I love his vet. Bogart, however, did not. It’s a locally owned business with wonderful staff. Every time we visited, Bogart would stay as far away from me as his leash allowed and made friends with the ladies at the front desk. He gave them his best puppy dog eyes in an effort to convince them he was being tortured and this trip to the vet was a big mistake.
In the months before his passing, we had made a few trips to the vet, none of which he was happy about. Plus, he struggled to stand and walk, so getting him to, in and out of a vehicle was a challenge, considering he weighed around 85 pounds. I wanted him to be comfortable and in his favorite place as he crossed the rainbow bridge, not in a place that stressed him out.
That’s why I chose the in-home option. The price was double what his vet charged, so this might not be an affordable option for all.
My experience with pet euthanasia was more peaceful than I ever imagined. The vet team was very empathic and respectful of the atmosphere. They informed my parents and me of the different steps and what to expect in the process. They allowed us the time and space to say final goodbyes, and waited for me to give the OK before proceeding with each step.
And then he was gone. I didn’t know how long it would take once the process started, but I only knew it happened when one of their team members officially declared that he passed.
Now, Bogart’s ashes sit in a beautiful box beside my TV, next to the dried bouquet of flowers my best friend brought me later that day. His bowtie is wrapped around the vase. Eventually, the plan is to plant something beautiful, flowery and fragrant and put some of his ashes in the ground with it.
Losing a pet, adjusting to a new normal
Grief is a weird thing. I feel silly crying about a dog. But he was a permanent fixture in my life for 12 years, so I’m allowed to grieve as I adjust to a new normal. I got him as a young, naive 21-year-old and lost him as a slightly less young, 33-year-old woman with two degrees and a career. That’s a lot of life packed into those years. He was a constant for me, there on my worst days and on my best days.
Each day in the grieving process is different. On a day when I’m writing something like this, I’m a blubbery mess, grateful to live alone so no one sees my swollen eyes. Other days, I can speak of him fondly and without any tears. Then there are the moments in between. Like, when I drop food and have to pick it up myself, when I open a jar of peanut butter and don’t have anyone to lick the knife clean or when I come home to an empty house. There have also been times when I am panic-stricken because I haven’t fed Bogart, before remembering there no longer is a Bogart.
I’m forever grateful for the time I had with the best dog in the world. I’m also so, so grateful for the people in my life who showered me with love, support and never made me feel bad for crying about a dog.