On Friday night my dog started having trouble breathing. She was 13 years old and had a heart murmur that was progressing to congestive heart failure. I was alone in the house since dh and ds were still out of town on their climbing trip. I texted my daughter (who works for our vet) and she said to bring Yaya in first thing Saturday morning.
We arrived at the clinic and they took Yaya for x-rays. They gave her shots to help ease the situation. Then they started her on oxygen. As I sat holding the oxygen mask for Yaya I began to accept the situation for what is was. I would be going home without her.
My first thought was, "I don't want this to happen!" But reality kicked in and I had to accept that this is real life. Real life includes loss.
I began to talk to Yaya, telling it was going to be okay. I told her about the other dogs she would meet on the other side -- what I like to think of as the Elysian Fields. When the vet came in to check on her, I told him I didn't want her to suffer. This wasn't about me. It was all about what was in her best interest.
We moved her to an exam room, and he gave her a sedative. As my daughter and I stood and loved on Yaya, her breathing relaxed and the panic in her eyes disappeared. We stroked her fur and whispered words of love and encouragement. She slipped away. And we cried. Not for her, but for the realness of her leaving.
Real live is messy and tough, but it's also full of wonder and love and affection.
RIP in Yaya.
linking up with Five Minute Friday