And so I wait...

As we sat in the waiting room, a storm raged outside the veterinarian's office... the lights blinked and then the power went out. I looked at Jason and thought is this really happening? and then asked out loud "Is this a sign? Maybe this is a sign..." My heart leaped- maybe we won't actually have to go through with this, maybe they can't perform any procedures without power. And just as I thought that, the power came back on. And so we waited... we waited longer than anyone should have to in our situation. Luke was nervous and shaking- he hates going to the vet and the thunder and lightning wasn't helping. The tech called us back to the room,walking with her head down. In an eerily calm voice she explained to us exactly what would happen and what decisions we would need to make about afterwards. She told us she was sorry and that the doctor would be in shortly and to take as much time as we needed. And so we pet Luke and tried to calm him down even though both of our hearts were beating wildly out of control. And then we waited...

Yesterday, we put Luke down. I hate the phrase "putting an animal down". It does nothing to convey the hurt and anguish and sorrow that accompanies the situation. Luke, our dog for over 10 years, our faithful little buddy, sleep companion, couch sitting friend, under the kitchen table floor cleaner, big protector, bark at nothing, lovable dachshund. I already miss hearing his nails click across the hardwood floors...

For those that don't know Luke's story, I will give the abridged version- I was working at Van Michael's Salon during college and one of the colorists, Obi (yes, Luke really was named after Star Wars, one of the schnauzers was named Vader) was talking about his 3 dogs. He had two schnauzers and one dachshund. Obi told me that his dachshund barked a lot and the other two dogs didn't really get a long with him. He was going to take him back to the Humane Society, if he could not find a home for him. So I offered to take him and within a few days, I was bringing Luke back to a house that I shared with 5 other people while I was going to Tech. I don't really remember if I even asked if anyone minded having a dog in the house, all I remember is that I couldn't let this poor little guy go back to the Humane Society. And so was our beginning together, we bonded right away. It is true what people say, rescue dogs always know they have been rescued and they are forever grateful.

Luke began to have back problems, as most dachshunds do, several years ago. He would jump off the bed or couch and pinch a nerve or a disc in his back. We have always been able to rest his back and give him a round of steroids and pain killers and he would act good as new. However, this last time, he seemed as though he was in more pain than ever before, he was walking differently than before and the slightest movement the wrong way would send his muscles into spasms. Our vet sent us to a specialist to have x-rays ran to see what our options were. Luke's x-rays came back showing 2 bulging discs- one is his neck and one in his back. The surgeon said that even with Luke's age, he was an excellent candidate for surgery, however, they would only be able to address one of the discs at a time. Hopefully, taking care of one disc would relieve the pressure on the other disc, but the surgeon could not guarantee that in several months we would not be back in the same position with the other disc and Luke would need another surgery. The recovery from back surgery is pretty intense for the patient and the parent involving a weeks stay at the hospital, physical therapy several times a day, on-going pain medication, bi-weekly trips to the surgeons office and total crating for a minimum of 6 weeks. This was not something we were willing to put Luke through. He hated going to the vet- the office made him nervous. He spit out his pain medicine unless we were very creative in the food we hid it in and he would have absolutely been miserable having to stay in his crate for 6 weeks.

Would our decision have been different if we had all the money in the world or didn't have two toddlers in the house or had Luke been several years younger... possibly...probably? I guess I will never know for sure. Everyone, everyone that we have talked to has said that we are doing the right thing, the merciful thing. However, having to choose the day and the hour of a living creatures last breath does not feel merciful. It feels self-righteous and like playing god- things that I am absolutely not comfortable with. I have been told that I will eventually feel at peace that we have done the right thing and in my mind I believe that we did, but my heart... still has a gigantic dachshund size hole in it.


And so I wait...

Miss you buddy