All Dogs go to Heaven, I hope

December 18, 2012
Today I lost another good friend.  I had to put my Basset Hound "Gracie" down. She was 12-1/2 years old.  She had some chronic cysts, which I guess are somewhat common in Bassets.  She had two or three removed in the past, but had one close to her left shoulder that the vet was "watching".  He said that if it ruptured to the "inside", it could cause some problems.  But if it ruptured to the "outside", it might drain and maybe go away.  It ruptured to the outside, luckily, and just "leaked" occasionally.  However, after time, and the addition of Sophie (our chihuahua) to our family, the wound got a lot more attention.  Sophie would try to "keep it clean", and possibly rubbed it raw in her enthusiasm.  Then it would itch, and Gracie would scratch at it.  It got progressively worse, and would bleed when disturbed.  Then it got to where it smelled like rotting flesh, which it probably was.  I don't know that it wasn't cancer, I just couldn't afford the tests and biopsies it would have taken to find out.  Also, she was developing two more lumps on her right side.  Knowing what I was probably going to have to do made it no easier to do it.  But the whole house literally smelled like death.  And I realized that I could put it off no longer.  So after work today, Janet, Angie, and Gracie "picked me up" after work and we drove to the vet.  I signed a form stating that she had not bitten anyone in the last ten days.  Then we got to sit in a small room with a couch in it.  Gracie was nervous, as she always got when we went to the vet.  She hated to have her nails cut, and the vet was the only one who could do it.  It was just too stressful on all of us to try to do it ourselves.  I was secretly hoping (selfishly, I know) that they could "fix" her and I would have her for longer.  But I knew better.  They might have been able to extend her life, or she could have died from the anesthesia.  She was over twelve, remember?
So Janet and Angie made their exit, as they didn't want to "see" it or be present when "it happened".  So Gracie and I and Dr. Clark spent her last minutes together.  I loved on her, and pet her while he shaved a spot on her back leg.  He told me it was up to me, then.  I kissed her on the head, told her I loved her, and Dr. Clark prepared to give her the injection.  He mentioned that it would work fast, and that she probably wouldn't even "vocalize".  She went to sleep in about five seconds, and her heart stopped about 30 seconds later.  Dr. Clark thanked me for allowing him to take care of her over the last twelve years, and I thanked him for his kindness and compassion.  Then I removed her collar, and walked in tears, through the waiting room, and went to the car.  I am devastated, but I know she is out of pain.

A lot of people pick out their pets, and some spend a lot of time finding the right one.  'Didn't happen that way with Gracie.  She picked ME.  From the first time I held her, I knew I was her Human.

She loved everyone in the family, but was devoted to me.  Would sleep either on my feet or at my feet if she could get up on the bed, and by my side of the bed if she couldn't.  She spent the last year or so sleeping on the floor next to the bed.