We struggled over the past few months with the diminishing quality of life that our beloved dog was experiencing. Some days were okay, many were not. She spent much of each day sleeping, getting up only when she needed to go out to take care of business or to eat. And we often had to feed her by hand.
When she was up and around, she had difficulty walking, her hind legs unable to keep her backside from collapsing into an awkward sitting position.
Was she in a lot pain? Who knows? Like most dogs are, she was stoic. And if she was in pain, she never cried out or whimpered. We couldn’t ask her how she was feeling and she couldn’t tell us. Not in a way we could definitively understand. And not in a way that could give us any degree of certainty.
That’s what made our decision so difficult. Was it the right time? Were we prematurely taking away days, weeks, or even months from her life?
We spoke with our veterinarian, who came to our house yesterday afternoon. She confirmed that it was, indeed, time.
I suppose we’ll always second guess our decision, always feel a sense of guilt. But she’s gone now and we are heartbroken.
We miss her.