Quotation Contest entry ~ The loss of a pet.
-- Eleanor Roosevelt
How do you say goodbye? Take a life that God has given to you to love and protect? That was the hard decision my husband and I made on June 23rd, 2017. A faithful and loving companion named Little Foot was granted permission to leave this world at 10:43 a.m. A tall Pomeranian, he became a part of my husband's family seventeen years ago as a puppy. While he was originally meant to be a friend for his little sister, the puppy took to Scott and they were inseparable for years.
During a hard time in his young life, Scott and Little Foot moved in with Grandma Ferguson and she became enamoured with the small dog. Now, how can you tell grandma when it's time to move that you're taking the dog? You can't. So, Scott left Little Foot behind and moved away. As the years went on, grandma passed away and Little Foot was being taken care of by Aunt Bernie. So, how do you tell a beloved aunt that you want your dog back? You don't. So Scott lived without his dog for a couple more years until he got married (to me!) and started a family.
One day in the summer of 2012 Little Foot's family was moving and they couldn't have dogs so Scott was asked if he would like his dog back. Yes, of course! From that day on Little Foot was a part of our family and became a companion for a new generation in our son, Maxwell.
Five years in no time at all. Seventeen years seems even shorter when you can remember your dog as a puppy, watch them grow then become old. He had so many changes when he came to us, it seemed to happen overnight. He started to grey around his eyes and nose, his eyes started to blur with the unforgiving blindness that took both eyes. His hearing was starting to falter; he no longer responded to his name or the high pitched clapping that used to signal that it was time to come in. Finally, he couldn't walk up and down the stairs.
I tried to get Scott to put him to sleep for about six months until he finally made the appointment himself. The dog was living in constant fear, if anything got moved he would be 'lost' and just stand in the middle of the room. After I stopped pushing him to make the call, he made it and told me I would have to take him. So I did.
As I sit here writing this, it was only hours ago I rubbed his ears for the last time and told him everything would be okay. He wouldn't be hurting anymore, he wouldn't be scared. He would be in Heaven with Grandma Ferguson and I'm sure he is waiting for Scott now, but he is running and jumping and chasing the squirrels like he used to.
Sometimes we have to make decisions we don't want to. We have to be the ones who say 'enough is enough' the suffering can stop, the hurt, the fear. While we can't do that for our human selves, we can do it for our four legged companions. I only hope and pray we did the right thing.