Last June I wrote about Brandy. She’s special in more ways than I could tell you… She’s the first American I ever loved. She’s been my friend and constant companion for nearly 11 years. She was my first pet as an adult. She was my baby before my own children were born.
And I have to let her go.
It’s been a long time coming, but somehow that doesn’t make the realization any easier.
Our vet diagnosed her with a heart murmur in January of 2008 and told us she might live another 3 to 6 months. That was over 3½ years ago. Now at nearly age 14, she’s lived much longer than I dared to pray she might. For some time, I’ve actually been praying that the end would come peacefully, with nature’s help, without necessitating this awful choice from me and mine.
Since 2008, we’ve treated every spring and every summer as if it were her last. We’ve continued her treatment faithfully, watching her body slow down considerably while her mind stayed as sharp as ever. Her “younger” fur sisters still fear her. While the legs haven’t worked so well recently, the teeth still work perfectly.
Last Saturday I recorded another video of her lounging in the yard. While she was never much for enjoying the outdoors as a younger dog, sunshine, bird song, curious rabbits and the scents on the wind have become everything to her this year. She was miserable and depressed on the days it rained, leaving her stranded indoors.
I prayed so hard for her to fall asleep on a warm summer day… but the days have run out. I know she could stand the cooling temperatures, but as much as I’d hoped she would make it to her 14th birthday party this November, it’s too cruel to prolong what we can no longer stave off.
The medicines aren’t working anymore. She’s lost the will to eat this week. Even feeding her by hand isn’t working anymore, because so little is staying down. She’ll starve unless we end it ourselves. And soon.
So we made the choice, minutes ago.
I’m trying uselessly to capture more pictures of the beautiful lady I still know is inside her frail body. I know I won’t sleep tonight and so I’m coping in the only way I know how, writing on my stupid blog that I hardly use and that is hardly read.
I sent an email tonight. I have to make a couple of difficult phone calls tomorrow.
On Saturday my heart will be in agony as my hand rests over another heart that I know full well will quit beating, because of something I had to do. Something awful, but unavoidable.
For all the love she’s given me, it’s taking all the love I have to let go now.
Tough times ahead.
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