Our Louie

Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole. ~Roger Caras

I shouldn’t write about this now. I have just barely managed to stop crying. So to write about it, about him, is counter-productive when all I am trying to do, is hold myself together. But it’s all I can think about.

Today Kevin took our dog, Luciano, and had him put to sleep. Louie was not an old dog – not even 10. But he has had these tumors, cancer, for several months. And for a while he was doing OK in spite of the tumors. But in the last several weeks he has gone down hill quickly. He lost weight rapidly. And a few days ago, he stopped eating. He stopped wagging his tail. He stopped doing much of anything except sleeping. He spent the weekend in his woobie in front of the fireplace, his favorite spot in the world. We knew it was time. But to say it… oh, that was hard. In fact, I have not spoken of it to anyone except Kevin. And even then, I didn’t say much. I couldn’t face it. And I have this tendency to run. So none of our friends or family have known that Louie has been sick. I guess I was hoping for a miracle, or something.

But there was no miracle. And Kevin and I finally said the words that we’d both been swallowing back – that we needed to let him go. We first spoke of it Thursday. I thought maybe we’d have another few weeks with him. But no. This weekend that became clear. Our little sausage, our little foodie, he wouldn’t even accept a treat. He would barely lift his head. But neither of us have ever done this before. It’s so easy to see someone else’s pet suffer and to tell them the right thing to do is to let go. It’s much harder to let go of your own pet. And I cried all weekend. Kevin took the day off of work to be with him today, before his appointment. I came to work, but I can’t quite figure out why. All I’ve thought about all day is him. All I’ve done is cry. At the same time, how can I go home knowing he won’t be there?

It’s only been an hour now since Kevin called, sobbing. My brave husband, he stayed with him until the end. He refused to take someone with him for support. He wanted to be alone with Lou, comforting him. And he was. He said Louie was peaceful. While that gives me comfort, I can’t help but feel bitter at the thought. Because he shouldn’t be dying in peace – he should be alive, happy, his whole body wiggling with each wag of his tail.

This day is so cold and sad…