In beginning the process of adding another member to my canine family I must first come to terms with the death of my dog Montana. I have been stealthy about avoiding this topic, feeling it best to keep busy and not talk about it with friends. However, this doesn't stop the tears at night and the sadness in my heart from continuing into my future. So, I am going to buck up and face it head first. What better way to do so then to write about it on a blog posted for everyone to see. Perhaps in addition to helping me heal, this will help someone else who is struggling with the loss of a pet, or struggling with the decision to put their pet to sleep.
Let me begin with this. Having Montana put to sleep sucked. That pretty much sums it up. She was my first dog that was all mine. I picked her out at the pound, I named her, and I took her everywhere with me. She was literally the perfect dog. She never chewed anything up, had maybe two accidents in the house when I first got her, was fine home alone, perfect with other dogs and cats and fine with people. Her only problems were children and going to the vet, two things I am not all that fond of either...
As the years passed I helped her age with dignity. I had two hip replacements done on her severely dysplastic hips. I stopped taking her on long hikes that would only ended with her feeling uncomfortable all night. I fed her food that helped brain function, gave her meds for arthritis and cognitive dysfunction and always helped her into the car because she couldn't make the jump. But in the end, it wasn't enough. Old age was still going to take her from me, and I had to come to terms that Montana now, wasn't the Montana of even a few years ago.
In the end, Montana spent most of her days pacing, panting, and pooping in the house. I knew she wasn't happy anymore. Who wants to wake up and realize they've peed all over themselves? Certainly not a dog as dignified as Montana was. However, the decision to euthanize your pet is an incredibly intimate decision. I've counseled lots of people on euthanasia, but this is the first time I have gone through it myself, and I can honestly say that there wasn't one thing someone said to me that mattered at all. I had to come to terms with the decision on my own, and this wasn't something that other people could help with.
My first step was to make an appointment to have a vet friend come over to my home to have her euthanized. I made the appointment for a couple of weeks out. At first I had a hard time with making an "appointment" for something so emotional, but in retrospect I am so glad I did. I was able to make Montana's needs first on my list. Stella and I could come second for two weeks. As long as Montana was happy, that was all that mattered. I began feeding her gourmet meals, and let her have the coveted seat on the couch next to me every night. I didn't get upset with her if she didn't want to go out to potty at night even though I knew it meant she would wake me up at some point during the night, or worse, would have an accident that we both were unhappily greeted with in the morning. As the day neared, I did my best to compose myself, but deep in my heart I feel like Montana knew what was coming, and amazingly, she was ok with it. Dogs are so in tune with their people, they know when we are upset, happy or frustrated, how could I hide my emotions about something so important from a dog that knew everything I felt? The week before her euthanasia I tried to take my holiday photo with my animals. We went to the farm where my horse is and when I called the dogs over for the photo Montana was nowhere to be found. I looked all around for her, to no avail. As soon as I put the camera away I looked up and Montana was there. Think of it what you will, but I can tell you I was freaked out. Small incidents like this sort of helped me. When Montana peed all over the floor right in front of me, it helped me feel better about the decision I had made. Strange isn't it? But it honestly felt like she knew and she was ready. I felt better that it was a decision we were coming to together.
The euthanasia itself was one of the hardest moments of my life. My two vet friends that were with us were amazing. Montana was comfortable and at ease and most importantly she knew I was with her until the end, her head in my lap and my hands giving her her favorite ear massages. That night, as I cried and cried and cried, Stella and my two cats hopped into my bed with me and pressed their bodies up against me. They got as close to me as they possibly could, something they had never done before. Feeling them there helped me realize that I wasn't in this alone, and I was so lucky to have these animals in my life. No matter how difficult it is to lose a pet, the love they give is well worth the pain and I can't imagine a life without my four legged family.
Each day gets better, and I find myself talking about Montana more without coming to tears. I feel so lucky to have had her in my life and to have been loved so much by her. I hope I made everyday we were together a good one, and I still feel guilt about the days that maybe weren't her best. For anyone that is struggling with the decision to euthanize a pet I empathize. But know that one day, perhaps not anytime soon, you too will be able to move forward and realize how priceless the memories are that you have, and how those will be with you forever.
