Decisions

And then there comes a time when old age is no longer kind to a dog.

When creakiness becomes pain, stiffness becomes unsteadiness, absentmindedness becomes confusion, and sleep becomes a relief for you both.

The first stage in making any decision is realising that there is a decision to be made.  The first painful step on a difficult road.  And it is difficult every time, no matter how many times you have been down this path with a different dog by your side.  The guilt of considering there could be life without them, your loyal dog - how could you want that to be true?  How could that be a decision you even contemplate?

Good days and bad days, from when you first realise it may soon be time it could be weeks or months.  But when the soul of my dog looks out at me through those misty old eyes and I see no joy, no spark, no hope, and he asks to be set free, how can I refuse him this, when he has asked for so little all his life?

And so I stroke that soft head again, I think of all the things we have been to each other over the years, he has given me so much.  And my decision is made, not because I don't love my dog, but because I do.  How much do we love them, these dogs, so much, and how hard is it to let go, so very hard.

 

I know I will fall back on phrases it seems we dog-owners must have said since the beginning of time, "it's for the best, the right thing to do, it wasn't fair, he wasn't happy".  None of it seems enough, none of it expresses the hurt I feel, the loss, the emptiness.  None of it explains how he told me it was time, and how he asked me to be strong enough to make the choice, even though I feel like I am losing a part of myself.

Life will never be the same without him, my shadow.  The world will not stop turning, but it should.

And then I will let him go, but I will always remember.