well my mother made my decision for me.
she's already had him put to sleep, without even asking if i wanted to be there. she woke up this morning and he was laying there barely breathing and couldn't move.
she was there holding him so he wasn't alone, she just told me that he's being buried right now.
she told me that she was going to lie to me and tell me that he had died in his sleep so i wouldn't know that she pretty much made the decision to kill my dog. i'm glad she didn't. i dunno what's going to be said to my cousin, though. my cousin really bonded with him when he was around crawling age, and has never had poochy not be around.
oh my god i feel awful. after so many times of him almost dying i felt like he might never. i've never cried this much about anything, not even a boy. i wish i never had gone away to college so i could have spent the last years of his life with him.
i love you poochy <3 i'm so sorry.
i never realized he was as sick as he was. apparently he perked up when i was around regardless of the fact that he could barely move. i feel so fucking awful like if i would have taken him with me that he would still be alive and i could still sit at my computer and rub his tummy while i read lj.
:( it's like this came out of nowhere. whenever i would talk to my mom i'd always ask how poochy was doing and she always just said "fine" or would tell me something funny that he did...
argh... sorry. hearing me lament about my dog probably isn't really helping you since you just lost one too <3
My mom lied to me and my sister about our old dog. Lying about it would *not* have made it any easier on you.
We had Dixie (don't laugh) for 13 years. She was a mutt who pawed on our door on Christmas Eve night. No lie! She was just a puppy and had no collar or anything. We posted pictures around the neighborhood hoping to find the owners, but no one ever called. For a while we wondered if maybe our parents had just faked the whole thing. Like, bought the dog and brought it to the front door for me and my sister to find, but I really don't think it happened that way. She was by far the best dog we ever had.
Towards the end of her life, my mom kept complaining about how hard it was getting to take care of her and how it was so sad to watch her getting so worn out. She said she was giving her to a canine foster care program that took in elderly dogs. We didn't like it, but it sounded like a tolerable alternative. Something about the whole thing smelled a little funny though, so I started pressing her for more information about the program, and she had trouble producing specifics. On a hunch, I went back to my hometown without her knowledge and visited the local animal shelter.
She was there. Not only that, she had been there for over a week. I talked with one of the workers and she said that they would probably end up putting her down because no one would adopt a dog that old. Little did she know...
I payed the adoption fee, signed the paperwork, and adopted the dog that had been mine since childhood. I called my sister to tell her everything and drove Dixie up to NC to see her. My sister offered to take care of her through her dying day (I have a large black lab and was a little concerned about Dixie's frailty given his bulk and energy level). She lived for 2 more years and was seemingly a happy old dog during the entire stretch. Frail, yes, but happy.
We never told our parents what we did. We decided it would be more fitting to let them believe they committed Dixie to an almost certain death.
It really is amazing the effect these animals can have on us supposedly advanced humans. I'm so sorry you're having to go through this.