We had to say goodbye to one of our dogs this week. We knew the time was near. Apollo had been mentally declining for months. We knew when we went to West Virginia in March that it would be his last trip down. He was finding it more and more difficult to navigate the stairs, he had almost no impulse control, he was very grumpy with everyone, and he seemed to get lost in the house sometimes.
What we did not expect was to wake up in the morning and find his face a little puffy. By the time I was home from work, his face was swollen enough that it was pressing his eye closed. Being almost 13, his teeth were getting bad, so we figured it had to be a tooth infection, which would warrant a trip to the vet. That’s when when we made the decision. We knew he had to be in pain. I made the phone call and they had an opening 1.5 hours later. We certainly didn’t expect it to be so soon, but we also didn’t want him to suffer.
Of course, even though we knew his time was coming, we weren’t prepared. Honestly though, can you ever really be prepared? We cuddled him on the bed, and took him for a walk through the woods. We had the car window down the whole time so he could sniff all the smells.
There was only one small ratty dog in the waiting room when we arrived. I think his name was Marley. We were put in a room and two ladies came in. Of course, Apollo growled, as usual, so we to put a muzzle on him temporarily so they could give him the sedative shot. If he had bitten someone, he would have had to go into a 10 day quarantine. Once that shot was administered, we could take the muzzle off and they left the room. It takes about 10-15 minutes for him to get really sleepy, so we sat on the bench and held him. After that time had passed, they came back in and shaved a small spot on his leg. I internally chuckled that they swabbed in with alcohol. It’s not like he was going to die from a dirty needle. We held him and tried to hold back tears as they pushed in the meds, and then they listened to his heart as we watched him take his last breaths. One of the ladies commented on how tough he was, as he lasted a touch longer than I remember Athena lasting. She seemed to go almost instantly. They gave us a puppy pad to wrap under him and we had the room for a few minutes before exiting a side door so we didn’t need to go through the waiting room.
We brought him home and sat on the porch with him for a tiny bit. We decided to bury him by the shop. I dug up some daffodils that had made their way to the ditch.
The girls had a hard time that day, but they seem to be coping OK. They were a lot younger when Athena died, so they didn’t have quite this emotional response. Us adults are having a much harder time. He was the last pet we had from our old house. He’s actually a year older than our youngest kiddo, so he’s always been in her life. I had to work the day after and I just walked around lost. It’s going to take me awhile to get back into things without randomly tearing up. I was the one that had to make the phone call, drive the car, and sign the papers, so it feels like I am directly responsible for his death. It’s a horrible feeling.
Everyone processes death differently, but while posting about it, the phrase, “Just a boy and his dog.” came into my mind and I couldn’t shake it out, so I wrote a poem.
Just a boy and his dog,
on a path through the woods.
Exploring sticks, leaves, and smells,
just like good boys should.
The snap of a twig,
the crunch of the leaves,
the chirp of a bird,
and the dog takes off with speed.
His fur sticks to briars,
as his paws hit the ground.
The boy runs behind him,
as they follow the sound.
But the bird has flown away,
so high in the sky,
and the dog continues the chase,
as the boy cries goodbye.
Just a boy and his dog
spending time together,
as the clock hands freeze,
they’ll be side by side forever.
For Apollo
August 31st, 2010 – April 4th, 2023