I have many more Iceland pictures to post, but I've been busy. We left knowing our pet bulldog was on her last legs. She'd been diagnosed with congestive heart failure 2 weeks prior to our trip. Making the decision on what to do with her was easy, Mrs. Bulldog said we'd go and let a friend watch our baby. Everything worked out for the best, and we came home to a happy pup, all of 12 1/2 years old. With Thanksgiving coming, she'd get to see all her favorite family members. We took our annual picture on the beach, which she's featured prominently in for all of her years. She was pleased to see her bull terrier cousin, her Nanny and Poppy, and all the people who made her happy over the years. She had even taken a trip down the shore to see my family.
I guess she'd said her good-byes, because at about 9:45 last night she managed to jump up and sit next to Mrs. Bulldog - her place of prominence - only to slide down and lay on the floor, where she expired shortly afterward. We cried a little, then prepared her for this morning, when we took her to be cremated.
The real pain for me occurred this morning. Expecting her to greet me with pure happiness, knowing the day was about to start and she'd have friends around her. But I knew it wasn't happening. I expect to hear her claws clicking on the hardwood floors, a little bark to say she's ready for food, or requesting to go out. It will take a few days to get used to the silence, having one less body in the house. I had to skip work. As I told a friend, I've been to this rodeo before, having put down our last dog 14 years ago. When you make the decision to put down a pet, versus having one pass naturally in front of you, the impact is different. I'm not sure why, but it has certainly affected me deeply.
No matter what, and I don't care how cliche it sounds, the reality is dogs give back far more than they take. The hardest part of having one as part of the family really is saying goodbye. I can think of every time I complained about having to get up and care for her. The baths I gave her, cutting her claws and the fights she gave me over that, taking her to the vet, all the little things which were annoyances in my everyday life but were really an honor to provide for such a loving pet. I'll never trade the moments of lying on the floor or couch with her, soundly sleeping with her head on my feet, or the fun walks she used to take when she still could. The playful way she'd wrestle with the boys when they were all younger. We didn't allow begging for food, but when she reached 11, she got whatever she wanted. I'd complain to her as she stared at me expecting just a little bite. She always got a taste, and I appreciated her presence. Even if all she wanted from me was food.
I wish all of you the best with your pets. Love them, and enjoy them. I doubt we'll get another. Mrs. Bulldog wants to travel more, and with both of us working out of the house, it's not fair for the dog to be alone all day. They certainly love us, and we owe them.
