In memory of our dog, Tyson Wigglebottom

I want to write this to help me process my feelings on what happened today. I just wanted to put it into words. @verucassault if you want to post anything here you can. I took my dog’s life today. I feel like I’m sitting. Facing out towards the ocean on a grey, cloudy day. Sand completely covers my legs, rooting me to the beach. The salty brine of the ocean beats across my chest in waves. The cold of the water sets my brain on fire whenever it crashes against me. Every time the water lashes against my skin I feel the hot tears. I remember silently begging Tyson to eat his food, even after the labored breathing. Even after his crying from the seizure. He sniffed the food and turned to me as what I could only interpret as him telling me he was ready to die. His parents tried to build a castle around his heart to give him as much comfort as we could give, but we knew at some point, no matter what, the castle was going to be taken by the ocean. I collapsed to my knees and with a complete lack of composure begged him to eat his food. He was licking my arm just yesterday. Perhaps, comforting me knowing that I was the one that wasn’t ready. Something told me. This was the day. I had to let go and say goodbye today or he will suffer. I called my wife and we took him to the vet. My wife was embracing him on the counter the whole time. The vet told us this and that, all these extreme medical treatments that could maybe prolong his life for a few weeks so that he dies alone in some hospital bed. I could only feel the waves crashing against my heart every now and then, sending a searing pain through my brain. Tyson didn’t know he was never going to leave that place alive. He didn’t know that we decided today is the day he dies. I knew I could have convinced my wife that we can try other medications, draw it out for a few more weeks, maybe another month or two. But what’s the point? Why extend his suffering? The weight of the decision pounded at my chest like cold salt water. I was trapped, rooted in the sand as I was forced to feel everything. I thought about Tyson and I running to the river. I watched as they shaved his arm and put in the needle. Tyson Wigglebottom. 16 years old. My heart wretched as I knew he didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t want to be the one responsible for taking his precious life. I thought about all the brand new dog toys we had got him but forgot to give him while he was still able to walk and play. I thought about the last few days when I didn’t see him at the door waiting for me after work. Every memory was like wave crashing against me, crushing me underneath. As the pentobarbital flooded into his arm I cupped his head in my hands, looking right into his eyes as I was sobbing uncontrollably and saying goodbye to him. I watched every moment as the life drained out of his eyes. I bore the incredible weight of the decision I made. The agony was so profound at that moment I blacked out, not remembering anything I did until we got up to leave him behind. Waves of inescapable sobbing hit me as I’m rooted to the ground. Its the death that forces us all one way or another to bear witness. All it left behind is the leash hanging on the coat rack. The toys still on the floor that he left months ago when he was healthier. No new memories of him from today forward, because today is the day I decided he should die. I let him go before his heart could give out. Before his lungs filled with fluid. Before he lost all control over his bowels. Up until the very last moment he was conscious we were there for him. I hope wherever you are now, you are no longer struggling to breathe. That you can run again. I’ll miss you forever and never forget about you, Tyson.

My condolences to you and Veru. As I sometimes say, parents and pets should be eternal.

Tyson shall be wiggling his bottom, happily in the next life. The memories of his life and of the love you and Veru gave him shall stay with him from now on, and forever. And may all that love and care one day be repaid in gentle kindness. I'm sorry for your loss, pets are our family, through and through. It stings, I know... but I'm sure you've both got things all under control. You two are absolute goats, and little Tyson too. Best wishes, and my condolences.

You didn't decide that he should die. You decided that you loved him enough to free him from any pain or discomfort. Love sometimes means making VERY hard decisions or in some cases, losing a loved one so that they may be free. If there is a heaven, I'm sure animals have a special place reserved for them. While your pain may seem heavy, your heart is yet filled with all the love he gave you. It's never easy losing a friend, let alone a family member.

@arc https://media1.tenor.com/m/E6fMkQRZBdIAAAAC/kanna-kamui-pat.gif