Today was rough. Maybe rough doesn’t even describe it. We had to put our 13.5-year-old dog down. It’s not like we didn’t know the time was drawing near. We thought we were losing her over the summer. We also thought we were losing her last year, but she somehow bounced back. When she was hardly getting up yesterday, I prayed that we’d see a difference in the morning, but instead, she got worse instead of better. It was time.
The last time we had to put a dog down, our kids were 5, 4, and 2. They didn’t understand. I remember we dropped the kids off at my mother-in-law’s so we could be with our Bailey. Hysterical didn’t even cover my emotions. That dog didn’t leave my side through three miscarriages and three extremely difficult pregnancies.
But Pretzel was different. I’ll be honest, she was the worst puppy I’ve ever had! She ate countless backpacks, lunch boxes, household items. One day I remember looking out my kitchen window and there she was, standing on the frozen pool, eating the cover. She was an expensive dog, to say the least.
While she was never my emotional support dog, she turned into a really sweet girl. She loved to just lay out in the yard and watch what was going on. While our German Shepherd is constantly bringing us his frisbee, Pretzel was content and happy just being near us in the yard.
Our whole family went to the vet’s office to put her down, and though it was difficult, I’m glad we were all there together. She looked around for each of us, and we all hugged and kissed her and reminded her how very loved she was. I have a hard time keeping my emotions in check when I lose anyone or anything close to me, but I looked at my three beautiful children through my tears. They were all crying, but they were clinging to each other, holding each other up. It touched me so much to see them like this. Somehow none of their daily bickerings mattered. We were all there going through a tremendous family loss at the same moment.
My son asked me last night what I think happens to dogs after they pass. I told him I like to believe we’ll see them up in heaven. Maybe our sweet Bailey was there to meet Pretzel and hear all about our family as the kids have grown. Maybe my mother was there to help her get settled and love her as we do. I told my son, no one can be sure of what happens when we die, but it brings me comfort to think that God has a place for all souls after we die. We will see our loved ones again; pets included.
Until then, sweet Pretzel, I hope there is a garbage can you knock over or a backpack you can chew on in heaven. You were a huge part of our life for more than 13 years, and moving forward without you here will not be easy. Rest easy, baby girl. There is no more pain.
Autoimmune Mama 
Recent Comments