I know I won’t be able to write this tomorrow. Or anytime soon after. It is hard enough to write tonight.
Tomorrow morning, Kevin is going to take our big puppy to the vet. We’re going to let him go to heaven.
It’s killing me.
Kevin and I got these big mutts at a low time in our lives when we were aching for children and that ache didn’t seem to be going away any time soon. They filled a void and they brought smiles and laughter into our home.
They not only gave us someone to love, but they brought comfort to our sadness. We’d barely had them a week before our baby nephew died. Two months later we lost my dad. Focusing on these pups got me through some dark days.
Kevin trained them and they responded so well. Fetch, shake, lie down, beg, hold it, wait, okay …
When we were finally blessed with Ricky, these dogs took right to him. Trouble weighs near 100 pounds and Daisy is around 80, but they were gentle beasts with our little boy. Except for the occasional tail to the face, I never worried about them hurting any of our boys.
They have been very much a part of our family.
Every boy should have a dog. My boys have been lucky enough to have had these two. Ricky keeps telling me that he won’t let Poppy take Trouble to the vet…nobody is taking him anywhere! I’ve tried to let the boys have plenty of time to say their good-byes. I’ve tried to let MYSELF have plenty of time to say good-bye.
I’m not sure it is possible to have enough time.
It hurts.
My big puppy still has his mind and still thinks he wants to play fetch and run in the yard, but his body just can’t any more. His hip and shoulder joints are shot. His legs cross when he walks. His balance on dry ground is awful and we can’t make him try to get around in ice and snow. He can’t live on 3 pain pills a day forever. For the good of Trouble, we have to let him go.
I know Dad will take care of him for me.
But it sucks.
I think I need some chocolate.