Yesterday we had to say goodbye to our dog Lucky. She was 6 1/2 years old, Brian and I had her for 5 of those years. She snuggled at my knees for 9 long weeks during my bedrest with the twins growing nearly as fat as I did.
She has always been a very anxious dog & since the girls came along and she was shoved lower on the totem pole, she has not been quite the same. She became obsessed with licking, she stopped wagging her tail, she chose to spend more time alone on her bed rather than snuggling. Over a year ago, she developed a sore on her leg that we have not been able to heal despite many many months in a cone. She started wetting on the carpet. She stopped playing altogether & those very few times you could get her to chase a ball, she would quickly start limping and need to stop.
I think this is one of the hardest decisions we've had to make in a long time and I'm still not one hundred percent certain we made the right one...
The house has been weirdly quiet without the occasional barking at a car door slam, the barreling of a dog to the door when we come home eliciting screams from the girls. Instead it is replaced with the steady stream of questions from the girls who are endlessly curious about death and don't yet comprehend it's finality. No, we don't need to put food in Lucky's bowl. No we won't see her tomorrow. Yes, we can draw pictures OF Lucky, but we won't be able to give them to her. Mama's crying because she's sad. She's sad because she misses Lucky. She misses Lucky because Lucky was her friend and she is gone. Yes, forever. Yes, she is with God. No, she will not be on a cross where we can go and see her. Why? Well, that is complicated...
I'm so sorry about Lucky.
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