I can never be “ready” to let you go…
The vet sat down across from me, shifted his weight and laid his hand on Scoonie’s greying head and took a deep breath. He made a face, and immediately I knew…I was going to hear something I didn’t want to. I was optimistic when I walked into the office to discuss options for my old dog and the tumor that has been wearing on his slow body. So when he kindly said “Putting him down may not be the worst option to consider”, I wasn’t ready. I’ll never be ready. But I knew he was right. As the words left him, my sweet old man looked up at me with his classic grin, like he was still taking care of me while I broke inside, and I just let it flow.
My son watched me cry. He watched me pour my heart out to the vet, just pleading with him to tell me what to do. I wanted him to just tell me what to do so I didn’t have to make the decision myself. My baby boy brought me a tissue and snuggled next to me as the vet went to fill even more bottles of pain killer and antibiotic for my first love. I had to explain to him, that very soon…Scoonie (his best pal) wouldn’t sleep at the end of his bed anymore. And I was broken.
The staff was kind, and provided me with options, and we walked out with one last bottle of hope, and a week or so to know what our future will hold. No matter how “old” he gets, I was never going to be “prepared” to let him go. He is my business namesake, the reason I do what I do, and part of who I am. My dog followed me through the best and the worst with a smile on his face, so if we have a day, or a month before he tells me he is ready to leave, I want him to know how much he means to our pack.
No matter how many years I have with you, it’s never enough! I want all of my moments back, and all the time that ran by while I watched you gray, and slow down. I don’t know how much time we have left together, and my soul is hurting, but I couldn’t have asked for a better dog and soul mate to help me get through the hardest years of my life. We healed each other every step of the way. I wish I had so much more time to throw a ball, share a pizza crust (that NEITHER of us should be eating…), and tell you what a good boy you are. Please don’t forget me…you are part of my soul and I will never let you go. Please tell me when you are ready and I will do my best to listen, no matter how much I’d rather hold you in my arms forever.