Today we had to put down our dog, Jack. He was our 2nd pet. We got him about a year after we felt "grown up" enough to handle a cat. I can pretty confidently say that Jack was one of the best dogs ever. You could do anything with him or to him. Until Molly was born, Jack was our baby. And once Molly & Emmett were born, he was the best big brother to them both.
In January, Jack started having seizures. Our vet put him on meds and they seemed to be helping until the other night. Since Wednesday, he'd been having seizures every few hours. Afterward, he would be completely woozy & out of it and the more he had, the harder it was for him to come out of them. By this morning, he wasn't even waking up between them. It was so hard to watch. When we went to the vet this morning, they offered to add a new medicine, but our vet could really only say that he might have a few more good months and couldn't guarantee that there wouldn't be anymore sets of days like this. Actually, he could guarantee that there would be days like this. Jack definitely hadn't been himself since the first round of seizures. Sitting there at the vet with him on the floor, mostly asleep (when he used to love going to the vet), it hit me that he was pretty much gone and that it was me being selfish to keep trying new meds.
We had the kids come to the vet's office to say goodbye. They were both so gentle with Jack. It was really amazing to watch. Emmett just patted him on the head. Molly gave him the most wonderful hugs and kept saying how much she loved him & how much she would miss him.
Tonight when I put Emmett to bed, we say goodnight to all of our family members. Before I could stop myself, I said, "Good night, Jack Dog." And Emmett said, "Night, Jack" in his adorable 1-year-old voice. God that sucked. It was so cute and so sweet.
Trying to explain to our 3-year-old why she wasn't going to see her best friend again was heartbreaking. I don't think she full understands this whole thing but she kind of does - I'm not sure which is worse. She asked who was going to feed Jack if he wasn't going to live with us anymore. We tried to explain that he was going to fall asleep and he wasn't going to wake up. And I think that hit home for her. She hasn't really cried but every now & then she just buries her head in her hands and cuddles up with us. I really don't know what to do other than hug her - especially when I'm barely holding it together myself.
I don't want to throw away his dog dishes or his bed. I don't know what to do with his food. I keep looking for him, expecting him to be laying on his bed or looking for something to eat & then realizing that I'm never going to see that again.
Ugh - being a grown-up sucks sometimes.
